#oh hi chevrolet

[arthurs-puppygirl]

Wait a sec…

I knew I recognized that name ✨

[fictionz]

Not once in my childhood did I appreciate that our family car was an orange shortie with yellow accents all throughout. If I’d had any sense I would’ve begged our pop to store it for me when the engine started to give out instead of selling it off for pennies.

[strang3lov3]

Chevelle

Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)

Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.

A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.

Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.

Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷

It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 

Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.

Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 

-

You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.

You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 

You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 

You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.

The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 

“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 

You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.

You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.

-

In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 

When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.

What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 

-

The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”

“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”

“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”

Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 

You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.

“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”

“Mm,” you hum.

“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 

“No, I can’t. That-that���s terrible.”

“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 

Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”

Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.

“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 

Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”

“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 

Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 

The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”

“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 

 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”

You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”

Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 

“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”

“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”

Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 

He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”

You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”

“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 

Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 

You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”

You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.

 “Is that it?” 

“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”

His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”

Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 

You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 

“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.

Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 

He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”

You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.

What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 

“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 

Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.

He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”

The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 

You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 

“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”

Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”

His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 

“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 

“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 

Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.

From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 

“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”

You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 

“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”

You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”

It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”

Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”

You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.

“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.

He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 

Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 

You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 

“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”

Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.

Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 

His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.

With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 

Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 

 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”

“You want me…”

“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.

He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3

From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine (carol's edition)

you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here. a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall. tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.

The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.

For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.

He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.

The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out. Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off. "Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"

"What're y--" He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.

"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!" He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.

"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?" "Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay." "Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.

"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer. "Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."

"Why?" The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.

"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit." He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.

"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..." "Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up." He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time. He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what? Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.

"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side. "I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."

"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli. "And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"

"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."

"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.

"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- " "Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me." You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.

In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture. "You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."

You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.

"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."

"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."

"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"

You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out." "What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose. "Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version." "You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.

"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."

You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.

"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."

"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."

"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."

"It's fine--"

A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.

"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"

"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"

"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.

"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."

"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.

"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."

"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.

"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."

"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."

"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name." "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light. "How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"

You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall. "Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable." You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy." "'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob." He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee. "Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.

"Can I open the card?"

"Sure."

"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.

You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."

"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"

"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap." You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. "Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"

"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."

"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."

"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only. "So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.

"No, that'll be later," you smirk.

"Hm?' his brows raise.

"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.

"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.

"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway. "Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."

You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.

Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.

After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday. And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.

[waywardsou2]

Logan X Male!Reader with Astraphobia

Tags: reader is afraid of thunderstorms, could be read as platonic or romantic, minimum dialogue, fluff

Word Count: 1k+

Summary: Logan has gone out to work for the day and a Strom has rolled in. Lucky for you, you are alone and petrified of storms. Oh wait...did I say lucky?

The storm raged on outside your home. A thunderous bellowing that shook the windows and made the whole world feel like it was shaking around you. You were curled up on your bed. A thick blanket wrapped tightly around you, not only to keep the cold out but to keep you safe.

It was silly, the notion that a piece of material could protect you from harm that could be inflicted by a storm but you always felt a little safer know you were covered by something that brought you comfort.

But you really wished that Logan would just get home. He went out a few hours ago, before the storm hit but he still wasn’t home yet. Through the thunderous claps of lightning surrounding the house you listened for his foot steps, the thump of his boots on the creaking floorboards.

You closed your eyes, straining your ears for any familiar sound whilst also trying to block out the thunder. An impossible task but still you tried. Your heart raced inside of your chest and you heart pounded, louder than even the rain on the windows. And then you heard it, the clunk of a car door locking back into place. You let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Logan pulled up in his 1965 Chevrolet El Camino parking in the drive and making a dash for the door so he didn’t get drenched and bring a mess inside. He kicked his boots off at the entrance as he closed the door behind him and called out your name.

The loud noise made you flinch, he called again but you didn’t answer.

Shaking off any excess water at the front door and placing his leather to dry on the coat rack he ran his hand through his hair and went looking for you.

The main part of the house was lit up. The hanging fairy lights you insited on installing in the rafters were on. Leaving a yellow glow to light up the room, contrasting the blue-grey of the outside world. His foots steps thumped down the hallway, he stuck his head in each room as he went looking for you until he found you curled up on the bed, a blanket wrapped tightly around you.

How had he forgotten, you were afraid of thunderstorms.

He approached you slowly, not wanting to startle you. But knowing you he figured you had already heard him before you had even stepped inside the house.

You felt the bed dip as he gently sat himself beside you, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But he was here and that was what mattered

Logan still kept his walls up. Replacing a brick each time it cracked and made sure there were no gaps in the motar. Not even for you. Sometimes he would look over the wall. So you could see his face. But it didn’t take long before he hid behind it again. Too many things had happened in his life. 180 years was a lot of time for things to go wrong…

But today he felt brave, he felt like stepping away from the wall for a while, just for you.

Because he knew you needed him to.

He waited, waited for you to move or speak but you didn’t. So he knew he had to make the first move, he shifted his weight, turning so his back was against the head board and your back was resting against his leg.

He sat beside you, a comforting presence. A strong and fierce one, but one that never failed to make the air in your lungs feel crisper. The weight on your shoulders a little lighter. And the darkness around you just that little bit brighter.

With him next to you the whole world fell away. His deep breathing the only thing you could hear, the scent of rain and the woodland musk that covered him the only thing you could smell. And even with your eyes closed you could see his face. You hoped the scowl that always furrowed his brow was a little less hard than usual. But you didn’t open your eyes to check

“The storm should clear out soon” he muttered, his voice low, almost too quite to hear.

“At least this way I don’t have to clean the truck. Although the same can’t be said for the tires”

Your mouth still remains shut but he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t really want to have an actual conversation and neither do you. But he want’s you to know he’s here. More than just physically being here.

“No trees fell on the main road. It’s good. Means getting to town will be easy”

Your breathing is deeper now, less restricted and anxious, your heartbeat is slower. Matching the rhythm in his own chest.

He looked down at you, your head turned away from him and your hair laying messily atop it. You looked more relaxed than he imagined you must’ve been. But he could still tell the storm was frightening you.

Gingerly he lifted up his left arm and placed it on your side. His bicep resting on your shoulder and his hand on your ribs. The touch was light. Almost non-existent. Like his hand was hovering over you rather than actually touching you. But the contact was the last thing you needed to feel truly safe.

To feel truly protected and cared for. You inhaled deeply and sighed contentedly.

Logan watched as his hand rose and fell with your breathing, he watched with hooded eyes. Tired from his days work but content to be home and in your company.

“You’re going to be okay. The storm will let up soon, and I won’t leave you until it does” he said a bit louder this time, making sure that you could fully hear him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you”

He meant it, he had lost so much but wasn’t going to lose you, and he wasn’t going to let you lose anything else either. He couldn’t rest knowing he had left you alone in the world. His spirit would roam the world until he knew you had also found peace.

But he didn’t want to leave you and he never would. Over his dead body.

He watched his hand again as it rose and fell in time with your breaths. He hated knowing that just under his skin were a set of claws sharp enough to kill a man, he hated looking at his hands knowing what the world saw when they looked at him. A dangerous killing machine that needed to be put down. He wasn’t that. And he never wanted you to think of him that way.

He thought of a song that you listened to often, it wasn’t his cup of tea (or shot of Jack Daniels should he say) but he knew how much you liked it so he began to sing it softly. Having heard it enough times to know it word for word.

And I don’t want the world to see me. Cause I don’t think that they’d understand

When everything’s made to be broken. I just want you to know who I am

His voice was low, and beautiful and everything to you. You listened intently to his singing, forgetting completely about the thunderstorm, as everything faded away except the two of you.

I wrote this for my gorgeous friend and biggest supporter @raetastic07. Thank you for letting me write and post this. Creating is my love language and I loved making this for you.

I also take requests if anyone is interested

[beenbaanbuun]

chevrolet w/ mechanic!Jongho

words - 3.1 k (i’m planning a part 2)

genre - smut

warnings - smoking, bff!yunho, pining, dom!jongho, sub!reader, begging, boot riding, light clit play, nicknames, light degradation, insecurity, making out, kneeling (i’m a slut for kneeling…) and i think that’s it

——————————————————————————

By the door to the garage stands a tall man with a cigarette between his lips. Handsome is too light of a descriptor for this man. Sure, it was accurate, but it does him no justice. Because not only is he hot as fuck, but he is also huge. Wide shoulders lead to thick arms that carry strong, veiny hands and long, lithe fingers. His honey skin is completely clear except for a single mole on his neck that serves to remind you that he is an actual human and not just a daydream that you’ve thought up within your romance-deprived mind.

You sigh loudly as you drop your head into your palm, elbow resting on your knee as you sit cross-legged on the hood of one of Yunho’s cars. No doubt he was silently seething about you using his precious 1967 Chevy Impala as nothing more than somewhere to perch, but he’d learned a long time ago that scolding you for it is futile. Besides, where else was going to give you such a perfect view of Jongho?

“Stop staring at him,” Yunho grumbles to you, breaking out of your trance as he pushes a tyre past you, “you’re being weird.”

You watch him as he leans it against the body of one of his customers’ cars before bobbing down to take a closer look at the wheel of the car. If you were listening to him just a few moments prior, you’d know exactly what was wrong with the car. It's just that as Yunho was monologuing about the wheel rims, Jongho was also unzipping his overalls and pulling them free from his top half. How could you focus on anything else when the man of your dreams was practically undressing himself in front of you?

“I’m not being weird,” you say as you go back to watching Jongho just in time to see him flick the ash away from the tip of the cigarette. The sleeve of his black t-shirt constricts around his bicep as he lifts the almost burnt-out cig back to his lips to take another puff. You swallow down a wad of drool that had gathered upon your tongue. It's a shame you can’t so easily get rid of the moisture that had gathered uncomfortably between your thighs.

“You know, just because you do something every day, it doesn't mean it isn't weird?” He sends a sarcastic smile in your direction, but you miss it, too focused on the way Jongho’s lips purse to exhale a plume of white smoke into the air. You lick your lips just as he takes one final drag and you feel your heart skip a beat as he tosses the butt to the floor and stomps it out with one giant combat boot. Oh, to be that cigarette, you think to yourself before shaking yourself out of your dizzy stupor.

Your eyes flicker away from him as he pushes himself away from the garage door frame and turns to walk back inside. The thud of his heavy boots against the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down your spine because even though you’re not watching him, you can hear him growing closer to you. Slow, careful footsteps grow louder and louder as his soles thud against the floor. Over and over they ring through your head like a metronome until at last they come to a stop right in front of the Chevy.

Carefully, you lift your gaze, letting it scan every inch of him until you reach his face. Thick thighs hidden by his tight denim overalls that you’d just love to rip open and see what's underneath. You bet they're soft; perfect to dig your teeth into as you sit between them. Stomach that you just know is toned to the point where it looks like it's been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. Arms folded over his chest, muscular and ready to slip around your throat and choke you until you're gasping for breath. Jaw set in stone as he stares down at you with a steely gaze and a taunting smirk playing on his lips.

You suck in a sharp breath as he looks you up and down, eyes lingering on your cleavage for just a moment or two before making their way up to your face. Behind the initial iciness you see in them, there's something else. A hint of playfulness, perhaps, although it looks a little more sinister. You shudder underneath it, pulling your eyes from his to study your fingers instead.

“Hey, Yun?” He calls out to the other man, yet never once takes his eyes off of you. All pretty, sitting there in those jersey shorts that sit flush against the bulge of your pretty thighs, and that low-cut top that shows too much for him not to sneak a glance every once in a while. The way your nipples peek through the thin material lets him know that you forewent a bra when you were getting dressed this morning. They pebble up as the cool afternoon brushes against them. Jongho can barely pull his eyes away from them.

“What?” Yunho grunts as he uses a cloth to wipe a grease stain from the chrome spokes of the wheel he was messing with.

“Do you want to take the afternoon off?” You don't need to look at Yunho to see his excitement at the suggestion. The clattering of metal tools against the cement was enough for you to understand that yes, Yunho definitely wants to take the afternoon off. “I’ll finish up here and take the Princess home when I’m done. I’m sure she can be patient and sit on her little throne until I’m finished, can't you?”

No. You absolutely cannot be alone in a room with Jongho. It takes a lot for you to be in a room with him when Yunho is there too. Being with him alone would break your sanity in two. Absolutely not.

“I can walk,” you say, voice wavering so much it's practically a whimper. God, you sound pathetic.

“Don’t be silly,” Jongho purrs, from where he stands above you, “I'm sure I speak for both of us when I say it’ll make us feel better if one of us sees you get home safe.”

“Then Yuyu can take me,” you spit out a little too quickly. Yunho lets out a snicker, and if Jongho’s imposing form wasn't blocking you from his view, you'd shoot him a middle finger in payment.

“I was going to visit Mingi,” his boyfriend that he insists isn't actually his boyfriend, “and his cafe is in the opposite direction to your house...”

Despite him not saying the word, you know it's a no. Whether he just wants to see you suffer as you try and keep your desperation for Jongho under lock whilst you're alone together is an entirely different question; you wouldn’t be surprised if that really was the case. He seems to find the way you squirm whenever the other man is near amusing.

“I’ll take care of you, Princess,” a finger gently brushes against your chin, tilting your head up until you lock eyes with Jongho’s once more. His tongue darts out to wet his lips - those plush pink lips - before disappearing once more, leaving nothing but a trail of spit in its wake. That pool between your legs only grows, “I’ll treat you even better than Yuyu does.”

You hear the condescending use of the nickname you have for Yunho; it goes hand in hand with the way he slurs the word, Princess. All of it makes you feel tiny beneath him and you just know that you won't make it out of this garage alive.

“So I’m good to go, yeah?” Jongho calls out a reply that you hardly register, and before you know it, Yunho is hopping into his regular car and driving off into the distance. The rumbling of his engine covers the sound of blood rushing through your ears until it doesn't. Until everything is silent and it's just you and him.

Jongho.

The man you’d been thirsting after from the very moment you spotted him. Always avoiding talking with him in favour of watching him. The way he smiles as he talks with Yunho, or furrows his brow when he’s studying an engine. The way he bites his lip as he lifts heavy metal pieces into his arms and sighs long and hard whenever he gets to put them down. The way he laughs whenever he’s told a joke and frowns when he’s made a mistake. Watching all that has just added to your fixation on him.

And now you are alone together.

You're alone with him. Alone and you don't know how to act. Yunho has always been a buffer to lead the conversation but now he isn't there and your mind has just gone blank. You hope Jongho says something first since you can't think of anything to say, but you also hope he doesn't say anything at all. What would you even reply? Something completely idiotic, more than likely. Something that makes you look like an absolute fool in front of the man you’d been silently wishing would pay you even a modicum of attention for the past year.

Well, his attention is finally on you so you need to be perfect. Desirable, but not to the point where you seem desperate. Intelligent, but not to the point where you seem like a smart-ass. Agreeable, but not to the point of being a pushover. You just need to be perfect.

How the fuck do you be perfect?

Jongho finally slips his finger away from your chin, but you darent look away. Are you supposed to? Is that what he wants? Oh god, what if he thinks you’re being weird by holding eye contact for so long?

“You can relax, Princess,” he chuckles, eyes crinkling up at the corners as he smiles. So pretty, you think. “Untense those shoulders and take a deep breath for me, hm? Can't have you feeling overwhelmed before we even start, now can we?

You do as he asks, for him.

Your shoulders drop a few inches and your chest rises and falls dramatically.

Relax… for him.

“That's a good girl,” he utters, voice low and breathy in a way that goes straight to your pussy. “Sit tight while I go and lock up, okay?”

You nod blindly before your brain kicks in just a second later. Lock up? You thought Jongho was supposed to be driving you home, yet his car sits on the far side of the garage, very much inside. If he locks up then…

“I thought you were going to drive me back to mine?” you finally say as Jongho pushes the door shut and locks it with a key he slips from his pocket. You hear the lock click and as soon as it does, he is on his way back to you, heavy boots thudding against the floor. They remind you of a clock, this time, counting down the seconds as he stalks closer to you; the seconds until you reach your demise.

“I mean if you want me to, I will,” he shrugs as he passes the car Yunho had been working on, “but I was hoping you’d want me to do… other things for you.”

Tick tock, tick tock.

His feet taunt you as he takes the longer route to get to you. They drag out your torture, the stickiness of your pussy growing as your thoughts seem to race through your brain at a speed too fast for you to comprehend. Thoughts about what you should be doing to appear perfect simply come and go, much too fast for you to dwell on them. You don't have the brain power to try and slow them down, so you just sit there dumbly as Jongho finally comes to a stop in front of you.

His footsteps come to a stop, the clock that counts down to your doom falling silent.

“I mean, you spend all that time staring at me and you think I don't notice, but I do,” he lays his hands down on the hood, pressing his weight down onto them as he leans over you. Your eyes go wide as his face comes to rest mere inches from your own, hot breath fanning over your face. From this distance you can smell the cigarette smoke that permeates his clothes, mixing deliciously with the gasoline and car oil that swims through the air of the garage. It's intoxicating. “I saw the way you stared at me during my cig break; eyes all glossed over as you sat and fidgeted and pretended that you weren't already dripping for me. God, I bet it's like a fucking ocean down there, Princess, all slick and ready for me.”

With two fingers, he walks his hand closer to you until it catches on your knee. You break eye contact to stare it at as it slithers its way up your thigh, rising higher and higher until his fingers catch on the seam of your shorts. He hums your name to bring your attention back to him. You obey.

“Can I?” he whispers as he pushes his face even closer. His lips are millimetres from your own; you’d barely have to move to take a kiss from him, “Or do you still want me to drive you home?”

You do it.

You close the gap.

All caution flies out of the window as you dive right in, pressing your lips hard against his own. No more thoughts of whether or not you’re perfect enough as you take what you want from him. He tastes of mint and smoke and it makes you dizzy. He kisses you back almost immediately, lips sloppily dancing over yours as if he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him. You moan into his mouth. He reciprocates it with one of his own, and the sound is just as beautiful as you imagined. Soft and musical and just as pretty as he is. It just makes you dive in deeper, arms swinging up until they're wrapped around his neck to hold him close. He takes that as a green light and dips his fingers into your shorts.

They travel up the inner seam, heading straight to your aching pussy. You’re sure he can already feel just how wet you are, just from feeling your inner thighs. When he smiles against your lips, you know you're right. They linger there for a few seconds, playing with the stickiness for just a moment or two before continuing their journey to the apex of your thighs.

When they reach it, Jongho stills his movements for just a moment or two. His lips pull away from yours so he can let out a soft chuckle. “No panties and no bra?” He tilts a brow as he flicks a finger against your clit, drawing another sound from your lips. “I didn't realise I was dealing such a slut,” he growls as he lunges forward to attack your lips once more. His tongue immediately darts out to brush against your lips and demand entry. You give it to him, bottom jaw going slack as you let him lick into your mouth.

His finger begins to tap at your clit with the same metronomic pace as his footsteps from earlier. Each hit sends a shiver down your spine as a jolt of pleasure lurches through you. But it's not enough, and as soon as it's there, it's gone again. It's torturous in the best way possible, and it leaves you wanting more.

“More,” you whine as you pull away for breath, “Jongho, I want more.”

“More?” he teases, stopping his finger in place against your clit, “you’re a greedy little thing, aren't you?” He slips his fingers completely free from your shorts and takes a step back from the car. “How about you get on your knees and beg? If you prove that you can be the good little slut I know you are, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

It's a deal too good to pass up, so as quickly as you can you slide off the bonnet and drop to your knees. The bare concrete scuffs your skin, but you barely give a wince, too lost in the lust that clouds your brain that you don't even register the pain. It's a small price to pay to get what you want, anyway.

“Hands behind your back,” he says as he stares you down. You do as he says within mere milliseconds. It makes him smile to see you obey so quickly, “legs spread, too.”

Again, you do it, shuffling your knees against the concrete until they sit shoulder-width. You're sure there's a wet patch on the material, but you don't blush. In fact, you're rather happy to show him just how much of an effect he has on you. It only feels right after pining over him for a year; he deserves to know just how much you need him.

He studies your form, his annoyingly cocky gaze brushing up and down your body like he has all the time in the world; like you're not at his feet desperately wanting more. He huffs out a breath before using one of his boots to kick your knees even wider, spreading your thighs until they ache due to the stretch. You whine up at him, only getting a sly smile in response. “What?” he coos, “I told you to spread your legs, didn’t I?”

And you suppose he's right; he did ask you to spread your legs. You just didn't know that meant for you to spread them until you couldn't anymore. Until you could feel the chill of the room brush against your wet thighs, the gusset of your shorts barely covering your pussy, never mind anything else. You shiver at a particularly cold draught, and Jongho laughs.

And then something colder hits your core. Icy and hard, just like the steel toe cap of a boot. You glance down to make sure you're not going insane; the big black tip of Jongho’s shoe pressing up against your clothes pussy is enough evidence that you're not. You swallow hard as he moves it back and forth against your slit, dragging the inner seam of your shorts against you. You inhale a shuddery breath as your gaze travels back up to his face.

His stupidly handsome face.

“You like that?” you nod, “then be a good girl. Do what I told you to, and I’ll let you cum on my boot. Beg, Princess.”

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

summary: in which best friends, y/n henderson and steve harrington get caught up in their feelings while paranormal activities occur in the small town of hawkins, indiana

cw: fem!reader, I wrote this a long time ago(I apologize for everything cringe), shit writing, first person pov, jealous steve, swearing, billy being touchy/aggressive?, dustin purring, stancy, 2.4k

<3

As I approach Hawkins High School, I take in the bustling parking lot, the scene filled with many students going about their morning. I set my bike on the rack, lock it up, and start to make my way towards the building, my eyes slowly taking in the atmosphere. The sun is shining brightly, the morning glow causing long shadows to cast across the grounds. The sound of chatter and the smell of cigarettes fills the air as I walk.

As I pass the parking lot, my eyes land on the familiar sight of Steve's maroon car parked in a spot. I see Nancy in the passenger seat, both of them engaged in a deep conversation. My eyes immediately catch Steve's gaze, causing my heart to pound in my chest. He's the first to send a little two-finger wave and a smile in my direction which causes butterflies to flutter alive in my stomach. I wave back, my eyes moving to Nancy as she finally glances up and sends a bright smile and another wave.

I don't get very far away from Steve's car when I hear the engine of a car revving. Steve and Nancy climb out of his car and I stand next to the girl. As my eyes catch a black Chevrolet Camaro whipping into the parking lot, tires screeching against the tarmac. I stop and watch in interest, the sound drawing in other members of the student body. My curiosity grows and I wonder who could be making such a dramatic entrance.

A girl with fiery red hair climbs out the passenger side and skates up the road, quickly disappearing from sight as she heads towards the middle school. Meanwhile, a boy about my age, clad in all denim with blonde hair and stunning eyes, climbs out of the drivers side in an almost slow-motion manner, sending all the girls around swooning. He looks around with a smirk, locking eyes with mine and sending me a wink before taking a drag of his cigarette and tossing it away. Glares come my way from the other girls, but I merely roll my eyes and cross my arms, unfazed by the attention.

"Who is that?" Nancy asks with her eyes locked on the boy.

"I have no idea," I say glancing towards Steve, who looks slightly jealous, "But I honestly don't care." I add, walking towards the building.

I reach my locker, unlocking it and grabbing my books before shutting it and preparing to head towards my first class. As I shut the locker door, however, I'm met with the new boy standing there with a smug look on his face. Our eyes meet and I take a deep breath and brace myself for whatever this interaction might hold.

"I saw your pretty face out there and knew I had to introduce myself the first chance I got," The boy says, leaning against a nearby locker while crossing his legs, "Billy Hargrove, and you are?" He says, giving me his hand to shake.

"None of your concern." I retort, attempting to move past him but instead he grabs my hips, keeping his rough hands firmly planted there.

"Feisty, I like it." Billy smirks, leaning towards me, his breath fanning over my face. "So, what's your name?" He whispers into my ear making me shudder.

"Get off me, you perv." I say, trying to push him away but his grip is too strong and I struggle against it. This causes a scene in the hallway as other students watch me squirm against Billy.

"She said, get off." I hear Steve's furious voice from behind me.

Billy surprisingly lets go of my hips, stepping back and eyeing Steve up and down, sizing him up. Steve stands his ground, despite being slightly shorter than the new boy, glaring at him defiantly as he takes a defensive stance. A tense moment passes between the two, the tension in the air thick.

"Oh? And who are you?" Billy spits out with a raised eyebrow, "The poor excuse for a boyfriend?"

"No, I have a girlfriend." Steve says quietly, breaking eye contact by looking down to his shoes.

Billy grins victoriously.

"Then what's the problem?" The boy asks, "If you already got a girl, can't I take this one?" Billy glances back at me, sending me another wink, and I scoff.

Steve's jaw visibly clenches.

"You fuck her on the side or something?" Billy asks casually.

Steve looks up at the boy, fury visible in his eyes as his hand forming a tight fist. I notice this, and not wanting to start a fight, I rush over and grab Steve's clenched hand. I gently push him back and away from the smirking boy behind me.

"Steve..." I say softly as my heart races. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, from Billy's previous comment, "Let's go."

"You better listen to your little bitch, Steve." Billy says, the smugness evident in his tone.

As I gently push Steve away, he stares at the boy with an angry glare, his body tensing as he fights his anger and urge to strike. Finally, after a long moment, Steve lets out a deep breath and we walk away together.

"Thanks." I finally say as Steve and I reach our first class, which we have together.

"Yeah." Steve breathes out, facing me, "You okay?" He asks as we walk into class and I give him a small smile.

"Yeah, I think so."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

After class, I notice Nancy and Jonathan walking down the hallway together. I increase my speed and quickly catch up to the two.

"Hey guys," I greet my friends with a warm smile.

"Hey, (Y/n)," They both say in unison, returning my smile.

As we walk down the hall, my eye catches Tina, one of our classmates, leaned up against the wall handing out bright orange flyers.

"Hey, Nancy. Hey, (Y/n)," She greets us both with a smile, handing us two flyers.

"Hey, thanks." Nancy responds.

"Thanks, Tina." I say kindly.

I look down at the paper in my hands, hesitantly. I immediately notice the little ghost holding a beer bottle in the corner.

Tina's Halloween Bash

Come and get sheet faced.

"Oh, could I get one more?" Nancy asks the girl.

"Yeah, sure." Tina smiles brightly, before handing Nancy another flyer.

"You're coming to this." Nancy says happily, handing Jonathan the extra flyer that she grabbed.

"Come and get sheet faced." Jonathan reads off the paper, giving Nancy a look, "No, I'm not." He says simply.

"I can't let you sit all alone Halloween." Nancy explains, "That's just not acceptable."

"Well, you can relax. I'm not gonna be alone." Jonathan says, and Nancy raises her eyebrows at him, "I'm going trick-or-treating with Will."

"All night?" I ask surprised. Even I'm not going with the boys.

"Yeah." Jonathan says plainly.

"No, no way." Nancy shakes her head in amusement, "You're gonna be home by 8:00, listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something."

"Sounds like a nice night." Jonathan smiles at the girl.

"Come on, Jonathan," I plead, "If I go, will you go?"

"See? I mean, you could go with (Y/n)," Nancy says as we approach her locker, "And if you do, who knows, you might even, like, meet someone."

Suddenly, I notice Steve sneak up behind Nancy, his sunglasses on and a sly grin resting on his face. He grabs her by the waist and lifts her off her feet, making her let out a surprised and delighted squeal. My stomach drops, and I glance over at Jonathan, whose staring at Nancy longingly.

"Oh my god. Take those stupid things off." Nancy says with a bright smile.

"I missed you." Steve grins, taking off his shades as he holds the girl in his arms.

"It's been like an hour." Nancy replies.

"Tell me about it." Steve mumbles before slowly connecting his lips with Nancy's.

I feel a pang of jealousy at the sight. I turn away quickly wrapping my arm around Jonathan's shoulder as we walk away from the couple.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jonathan asks randomly as we head to our next class.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask, facing the boy, "You're the one whose in love with Nancy." I comment simply.

"How—" Jonathan starts with wide eyes.

"It's all in the eyes, my friend, it's always the eyes." I sigh, and smile softly.

"Then, the way you look as Steve, surely says something." Jonathan replies with a wide grin.

"Shut up." I laugh lightly, laughing Jonathan's shoulder, "It's not that obvious is it?" I ask worriedly.

"It so is."

I groan.

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

After school, I head towards the bike rack to unlock my bike. That's when Dustin and Lucas approach me on their own bikes, presumably coming from the middle school just up the road.

"Hey, guys," I greet them with a smile as I hop onto my bike, "What's going on?"

"We need you to come with us to the arcade." Lucas replies quickly when we start riding down the street, the school slowly drifting from view.

"It's an emergency." My brother adds and I glance at them confused.

"What? Why?" I ask, slowing my bike down to a stop.

Dustin groans.

"(Y/n), come on," My brother pleads, "What part of emergency do you not understand?"

"Jesus, when did that attitude of yours get worse?" I mumble before following him and Lucas to the arcade.

When we arrive we quickly set our bikes down and hide behind a car. Lucas has his binoculars in hand, searching for something or someone.

We wait there for a while and nothing seems to be happening.

"Still no sign?" Dustin asks Lucas whose still looking through his binoculars.

"Jack shit." Lucas replies plainly.

"Oh, damn it." Dustin sighs after checking his watch and turning towards me, "Our mom's gonna murder us."

"So go home," Lucas shrugs, bringing the binoculars down from his eyes, "I'll radio if she comes." He finishes simply.

She.

"Oh yeah, nice try." Dustin comments, irritated, "You just want me out of here so you can make your move."

"Move?" I ask glancing between the boys, "You both want to ask out the same girl?"

"That's right," Dustin says with a smile, "And she will not be able to resist these pearls." Dustin adds before purring, showing off his pearly whites. Lucas and I just give him a weird look.

"Ten o'clock." Dustin says quickly, making us turn.

"What?" Lucas asks, confused by the sudden topic change.

"Ten o'clock." He says again, pointing in the direction of the same black car that pulled into the school parking lot this morning.

Lucas quickly brings the binoculars back up to his eyes and we all watch the girl with red hair climb out of the car. She stand there, with her hand on the door, yelling at Billy through the car.

"They're arguing, they're arguing." Lucas says frantically and my brother rolls his eyes.

"Oh my god." Dustin mumbles, "I see that. I don't even know why you need those." He says louder this time.

"God. You're so stupid." My brother mumbles again, before returning his eyes to the scene in front of him.

Billy's face is full of anger and frustration as he drives away and the girl slams to door shut, sending him off with her middle finger.

I mentally applaud her.

She then rushes into the arcade and Dustin and Lucas glance at each other. Before not so stealthily walking towards to window so that we could watch the girl play video games.

"What am I missing here?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"She's new, and her name is Max." Dustin explains simply.

"She's incredible." Lucas swoons over the girl's video game abilities.

"She's..." Dustin starts with a smile.

"Mad Max."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

As we ride our bikes home, Dustin, Lucas, and I try to contact Mike through the radio to tell him the news. So far, we've had no luck reaching him.

"Mike?" Dustin asks into the mic for what seems like the fiftieth time.

"Hello, is that you?!" We hear Mike's desperate voice through the walkie-talkie.

"Yeah, it's me, Dustin." My brother says plainly, "What're you doing on this channel, again?" Dustin asks, clearly irritated.

"I've been trying to reach you all day. We were right. Max is Mad Max." Dustin continues through the comms.

"Yeah, I'm busy." Mike says, annoyed.

"But—" That's all Dustin can get out before the line goes dead.

"What are you gonna now?" I ask the two boys.

"We stick to the plan." Dustin replies.

"What plan?" I ask, glancing back and forth between the two. Of course, like usual, I'm ignored.

"Mike's not gonna like it." Lucas says, worriedly.

"Last time I checked, our party is not a dictatorship," Dustin explains, "It's a democracy."

"What if Max says no?" Lucas asks.

"How could Max say no to these?" Dustin says before purring again.

"I wouldn't." I mumble hoping my brother doesn't hear.

He does.

"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side." Dustin says turning towards me.

I just shrug.

"I told you to stop that." Lucas says annoyed with my brother's antics as we approach our house.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Dustin says with a smile.

"Bye, Lucas." I say, sending the boy a small wave.

"Later." He says before Dustin and I turn into our driveway.

Dustin and I make our way up our driveway, and set our bikes down, starting to walk towards the door. When out of the blue, a strange noise comes from the woods around us. We glance at each other, curious expressions forming on our faces.

"Mews?" I call out, wondering if our cat is out there.

"Mews?" Dustin says, making a few kissing noises before shrugging and walking inside.

I stand there for a few more seconds, ears listening for that noise again, but it never comes. I finally head inside, relieved to find Mews curled up on her favorite spot on the couch, her soft tail twitching lightly as she sleeps. I smile, giving her tiny head a soft pat before making my way to my bedroom, reassured that everything is okay.

<3

next chapter . masterlist . steve harrington masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[lionneee]

You and Aemond are in the car with your friends

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: p in v, oral (male), fingering, smut, kissing, taking of sexual themes, smut.•

Modern!Aemond x Fem!Reader

It was a long trip with an old car. It was such a stupid idea. That car was consuming gas just like a thirsty person would drink water. Your friend Creagn had the great idea to rent an old Chevrolet of the ‘60, and it was even a cool idea, just to try something different, and it wasn’t even that expensive,  then you found out why.

“There should be a gas station 5 kilometers away.” Maris said, looking at the map on her phone. Aemond hummed as he kept driving, keeping his hand on your thigh during the drive. The seats were bench-like, so you sat closer to Aemond.

“Could get something to drink too, I’m thirsty.” Cassandra suggested, and Maeis nodded along with her.

“Oh, you’re thirsty girl?” Cregan joked as he raised his eyebrow, and Maris and Cassandra were quick to roll their eyes and start a little argument about Cregan’s flirtiness. You chuckled and kept loving at the road, then your phone to indicate to Aemond the way to the gas station that Maris found. You were just checking the next exit as you felt Aemond’s hand dig between your thighs, and you were quick to shut the close, glancing at Aemond. He kept staring at the road, his expression as usual, emotionless. He glanced at you and squeezed your thigh hard, digging his fingers in old bruises. You squeaked and barely widened your thighs, and Aemond didn’t waste a second to slip his hand between them. You quickly grab his wrist and give him a warning glance.

“Aemond.” You warn him, and you give a quick glance behind you, as your friends keep on bickering.

“Just sit and look pretty, baby.” He smirks. “This ride is getting boring, let me have some fun.” He murmurs, giving you a glance, and you don’t know what it was, but you just melt, and widen your legs a bit more. Aemond quickly slips his hand under your skirt, and you were so thankful for this bench-seat, so your friends behind couldn’t see much of Aemond’s movements. He passes his fingers over your covered slit, and you bite your lip, clenching your hand on the edge of the seat. You look at Aemond, but his gaze is back on the road, his expression giving nothing away. He slowly moves your panties to the side, and you keep your legs wide, not to make anything harder for him to keep going with his ministrations. He smirks as his fingers finally touch your wet cunt.

“What happened here, baby?” He murmurs again, leaning towards you to keep his voice lower as he gathers the wetness of your cunt with his fingers, a barely wet audible sound coming from the movements of his fingers. “Is it me, or the idea of getting caught, uh?” He keeps on talking. “Maybe both.” He leans back up, thrusting his fingers, knuckle deep, inside your tight hole. A little whimper escaping your mouth, making him chuckle. You wanted to moan out loud, the feeling of him inside you in such a risky situation turning you on incredibly. He crooked his fingers slowly, searching for that spot inside of you. You take a deep breath and lean your head to his shoulder.

“Aemond..” You whisper, whimpering. “Please… Oh, please no…” You try to suffocate you grunt as you feel his fingers finding that rough patch, caressing it slowly, only making more moisture coming out of you. You look down at him, seeing a slightly visible bulge in his pants. You move your hand over his crotch and squeeze lightly his cock, and suddenly the car speeds for a moment. Your friends behind gasps.

“Dude, you trying to kill us?” Cregans exclaims, not really that worried.

“You were getting annoying with that bickering.” Aemond says casually, shooting you a smirk with a proud glance. Cregan sighs and shakes his head, amused.

“Aemond, take the left road, there is an Autogrill there.” Cassandra says, snapping you out of the ball. You take a deep breath, as Aemond’s fingers stop and pull out of you, you immediately clench your legs close. You look down at his hand and you see his fingers glistening, wet. He raises that hand and points to a road, seriously, the only one possible.

“That one?” He asks with a smirk. Your face turns red tomato.

“Yeah.” Cassandra conferms, and Aemond takes the turn and gets in the autogrill parking spot. It was full, so he had to park in a hidden, not completely legal, spot.

“We’ll wait for you here.” Aemond says, as your friends behind nod and get out of the car. As soon as they’re out, Aemond doesn’t even wait for them to be out of hearing range to grab you by your neck and pull you into a heated kiss, devouring your lips.

You whine and turn on your seat, so your side is against the backrest of the seat, as you lean to Aemond, getting him closer. He groans in the kiss as he slips his hand back between your thighs, caressing your clit. You moan and you pull back from the kiss.

“Aemond, wait, someone…” You wrap your hand around his wrist as you look around, but he grabs your cheek in his hand and leans your head back to kiss your neck.

“Cregan and the sisters always fight over everything, it’ll take a long time for them, and, there’s no one around, they’re all inside. No one's gonna see us.” He slaps your hand away and he moves you so you sit on your haunches, then, he slips two fingers inside you cunt again, making you gasp out loud. He quickly finds that patch again, and he quickly starts abusing that spot again, rubbing aggressively there, and you clench your hand on his shoulder and press your face against his neck to shut yourself up. Your body is moving repeatedly due to the harsh movement’s of Aemond’s hand and arm.

“Fuck… Aemond, ‘s too much…” You cry out, as he keeps stimulating that delicate spot harshly, sending a mix of pleasure waves and slight pain.

“It’s your fault princess.” He grabs the back of your neck with his other hand and pulls your head back to look at your face, red, puffy, big eyes with a pleading expression. “You turned me on so much.” He clashed your lips together again, but you have to pull away when you feel the orgasm building, and you know it’ll be devastating. You press your head against his as you close your eyes shut, feeling the pleasure raising, you moan out loud.

“Look at me when you cum.” He growls. You shake your head, too lost in pleasure. “I’ll stop, do you want me to stop? Mh?” He smirks as you immediately open your eyes,

“No! Holy fuck- Aemond please…” You moan out loud as you finally feel the orgasm at its limit as he barely slips out his fingers only to add a third one.

“Come on, baby, cum. I want to see you cum on my fingers.” He watches you, continuously switching his gaze from your cunt to your face, undecided where to look at. You raise slightly your hips, jerking them unconsciously as you finally feel your orgasm explode, hot, strong waves of pleasure going through your whole body,

“Yes, Aemond please, don’t stop- Ah, yes- Yes-” You whine out loud as Aemond keeps moving his fingers more gently, riding out your orgasm, as your whole body convulses. You fall back on your haunches as Aemond carefully slips his fingers out of you. You look at him in awe as you breath heavily, watching at his fingers, wet and covered in your moisture. You lean forward and put your hand over his evident bulge, and he groans.

“I almost cummed in my pants just at the sight of you, baby, careful with that soft hand of yours.” He says as you massage him gently, making him breathe heavier. You quickly unbutton his pants, tugging them down along his boxers, just enough to let his cock spring free. Long, thick, pale, with veins on the underside. Just beautiful. You look at him with innocent eyes.

“Hand? Who talked about my hand?” He watches you instantly as you speak, groaning when he sees you bending down, ass in the air as you lick the underside of his cock, tracing the veins there, going up to the tip, and sucking it in your mouth, making his finch at the intense pleasure. 

“Shit, baby, fuck-” He grunts as you put your arms on your back and you just take him all in your mouth, gagging on him, but you stay there, as Aemond groans out loud, throwing his head back, putting his clean hand on the back of your head, as he licks the fingers of the other hand, tasting you. He clenches his hand on your hair to keep you firm as he planted his feet on the ground to thrust his hips up. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat again and again, but you do your best to not move your hands from behind you and keep your head firm, hollowing your cheeks to make it more pleasurable for him.

“Good God, so lucky to have such a good girl, am I?” He grunted, sucking his fingers again, savoring the taste of your cunt again. “You know how good you taste on my fingers, baby?”

You moan out loud as you understand that he has been licking his fingers as you kept sucking him off, to be both with the taste of the other in your mouth at the same time.

He grips  your hair tighter, as the other keeps your wrists together on your back,, his hips pushing harder in your mouth, choking you and causing tears of effort to spill from your eyes.

“So pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby…” He growls, feeling that with a few more thrusts he would cum. He closed his eye as he felt his orgasm approaching.

“Swallow. Fucking swallow it all.” He hiss as he cums hard inside your mouth, panting heavily as his cum squirted into her mouth. He moves in your mouth for a bit more, wanting to prolong his pleasure.

“That’s it. Good girl.” He purred in delight as you swallow one last time and let his cock out of your mouth with a wet slap.

You lick your lips, sitting straight and looking at him proudly.

Aemond passes his thumb on her lower lip and chin, gathering what spilled out of her and slipping it inside your mouth. you lick him clean he pulls you to him and gives you a sweet kiss, smiling proudly at you. 

You both roll down the windows of the car, hoping the smell of what you did would go away in time and get outside the car as Aemond grabs a cigarette to smoke.You stay seated on the driver seat, facing outside, swaying you feet in the air, as finally, you see Cregan, Maris and Cassandra coming back with a bag of snacks and drinks.

Maris looks at both of you with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you guys okay? Y/N your face is red.”

Aemond shoots you a knowing look, smirking as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Y-yeah, it’s just the sun.” You mutter embarrassed. Aemond chuckles and bends down to give you a quick kiss.

“Ready to go?” Cregan asks enthusiasts.

“More than ready.” Aemond states as he finishes his cigarette and throws it away. You scoop back on your seat as they all get in the car. Cregan smells the air, before saying:

“Smells funny in here.”

You turn red tomato as Aemond smirks, and turns on the engine to drive off.

[nescaveckwriter]

Heyy! Can I request a Dean Winchester x reader with an established relationship where they have to deal with a case for which they have to dress up all nice, and reader usually wear baggy clothes or clothing that hides most of her body and for the first time, he sees reader in a tight fitting dress and he's just

😍 "shit, that's my woman?!"

And he's just over the moon even more for reader (if that's even possible)

😱💓🥰... Awww sweetheart this is such a cute idea, I just simply love it, also thanks for asking, I really do hope you like, this little drabble, I've written is what you had in mind💓 anywayz I hope you have an epic day, love ... 🐞💓🥰

A/N: I love receiving requests, so keep em coming 😅

Warnings: 18+Only, Some mention of violence, and intimacy, but nothing to much, light foul language. And Pure FLUFF 🥳😘💕

Pictures used: Pinterest

Copyright: Please do not copy, my work.

Words: 1189 😘

Lady in Red 💕

His husky voice lingers in the air, oh how I loved the sound of his voice, we have been together for a few years now, and somehow hearing him, looking at him, never got old. His green eyes caught mine, helding it captive, because I mean who wouldn't drown in those emerald green orbs, mouthing with his plum lips across the table, "I love you" as Sam discussed the plan with us. Mouthing back "I love you too Dean". Looking at each other as if we were the only people in the room.

"Really you two?" Sam looked at the two of them, "we need to focus, the two of you need to pose as a high end, couple, for this charity event, so I need both of you too listen" Dean and I looked a little guilty, but then Dean smirked "bite me" I chuckled a little, the way Sam's face has irritation written all over..

Sam looked at me, eyeing the oversized clothing I always wear, oh he didn't want to say it out loud but, I knew what he was thinking, how am I going to look the part?. I barely even wear makeup or do my hair, but like who would not want to be comfortable when you're fighting monsters and ghosts. I smile, "Don't worry boys, I'll dress the part" Dean gave me this surprised almost scolding look sounding sincere, "You are beautiful sweetheart, I don't care what you wear, your beautiful" he walked up to me, and without hesitation he pulled me into an endearing kiss, his hands resting on my hips, I heard Sam, mumbling "Oh! Give me a break" and walk out, leaving the two of us, I could feel the way Dean smiled, against my lips. After a few more seconds, we came up for air, sounding breathy ,"Babe you should stop terrorising your brother so much" he simply smirked "Not my fault Sammy is so easily annoyed" I laugh, starting to turn away from him, "I need to go and get ready for tonight's event, you too mister" he grabbed my wrist, "Come here sweetheart" he pulled me close to him, looking into my eyes, "you know I love you right, more than anything in this world?" I smiled, looking at this gorgeous man in front of me, his freckles, my damn weakness, "Mhmm you see I know that's not true" surprised he looks at me "what?" Chuckling a bit "what about baby?" Referencing the love for his Chevrolet Impala, standing in the garage, he burst into laughter "You are driving me crazy woman, now go get ready" giving me a playful slap on the rear. I walk away, smiling, my heart bursting with love and joy.

He smiles as he watches her walk away, wearing loose fitting jeans one of his t-shirts and some flannel, hair in a messy bun, it's true he didn't care what she wore, she's so beautiful for him, but he would be lying, if he said he wasn't curious what she'll look like all dressed up, for some reason that's beyond him, she always thinks she's not pretty, but oh how far that could be from the truth, he knows every single inch of her body, every little spot that makes her tickle, every Little sensitive part, that makes her moan in pleasure, he loves her, even more than his car, but he'll never admit it.

Checking himself in the mirror, mumbling "I hate these monkey suits" as he struggled with his bow tie. He walks around the bunker searching for Sam, of course he finds his little brother's nose buried in those damn books, "Sammy help a man out?" Sam looks up, "you can hunt some of the most dangerous creatures, but you can't fix a tie?" The glare Dean gives him shows he isn't happy at the remark, he gets up, helping his big brother fix the tie.

Sam's eyes widens, his mouth falls open, Dean looks at him "What's your problem?" Sam could barely utter a single word he was stunned to say the least, Dean followed his eyes and when Dean turned around, his breathing hitched, his heart rate went up, he slightly gasped for air, taking in the beauty before him, his eyes wandered over her. Her hair draped over her shoulders, her eyes glistening, her smile could light up the darkest of rooms, wearing a red tight fitting dress. The high cut slit in her dress, exposing her right leg, the crystal like heels, making her seem taller, her legs leaner, the low halter cut, just exposing enough of her collar bone, to leave something for the imagination.

Without saying a word, Dean gestured for her to turn, the back of the dress, totally exposed, just covered her lower back. He bit his lower lip, and with the back of his hand, hitting against Sam's chest, his voice sounding a bit more husky, "shit, that's my woman?!" She laughed and her voice rang, "Last time I checked, I was all yours"

All the way to the event Dean could barely keep his eyes on the road.

When he led her through the doors, his hand rested on the curve of her back, so many eyes were on her, and he slightly chuckled when she whispered "why are they all looking at me?" As if she doesn't know she's beautiful! So he just smiled, took her hand, and asked "do me the honour and dance with me?" She did a little playful dip, "the honour would be all mine" before he pulled her close, he gave her a once over. He never saw the highlights in your hair, that caught your eyes, or the dress you're wearing tonight, he pulls you close. Dancing cheek to cheek, the way she feels this close to him, her small hands on his shoulders, his calloused hands, in the small of her back, sending electric shocks through her spine, swaying with the music, maybe Dean's caught up in the moment, but there's a question weighing on him for months, but now, now it feels like the right moment, he's voice sounded deeper than normal as he whispered, hot air brushing against her neck "Sweetheart?"

Slightly breathy, "Yes?" He cleared his throat, "make me the happiest man alive, and be my wife?"

Her swaying body came to a stop , "A...are you asking me" he cut her off, pulled back looking in her eyes, "yes, will you marry me?" I couldn't believe it, he just asked me to be forever his, without further due, I planted a kiss on his plum lips, soft tears rolling down my cheeks, he smiled against her soft lips, "is that a yes?" I break the kiss, smiling widely, "yes a million times yes" he laughed, picked her up, gave a twirl, and placed her down, his fingers intertwined with hers. Giving me that signature smirk, "What do you, say Mrs Winchester let's go catch that shifter, then we celebrate with some pie and beer?" I laughed, nodding, as happy as can be, "lead the way Mr Winchester".

@k-slla @jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @angelbabyyy99 @pia-bartolini

[jedifarmerr]

Untimely - Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC (AFAB).

Summary: Joel might have a little crush on his business partner, but it’s no big deal - really.

This can be read as either pre-canon or AU. Reader has a nickname, but physical description is a blank slate

Rating: E (18+ no minors)

Warnings/Tags: Joel’s POV, readers dad used to be Joel’s boss, discussion of absent parents (not reader), very minor discussion of parental death (again not reader), Joel is kinda awkward when it comes to dating, workplace relationship but without power dynamics, squint and you’ll find an age gap (no exact age is stated but she does have a college degree), pining and lots of it, denial of feelings and all that good stuff, and smut in general. I’m not gonna tag everything or this would get way too long but consent is clearly stated and does not have any major triggers (to my knowledge, but let me know if you catch something).

Word Count: 23,000. This was supposed to be a short one-shot, but got out of control. Oops. This is separated into two parts on AO3

Note: I’m back!! I know it’s been a hot minute, but I’m very very excited and very very nervous to share what I’ve been working on in my absence. But here it is!

---

The first full week of September, and Austin was deadlocked in a nasty heatwave. 

Days like this made Joel wish he’d chosen a job that involved a roof over his head – or maybe just a little shade. Anything would be better than being crushed under the weight of the cruel Texas sun as it poured down through the bare-bone house. Still, Joel hammered his way through it. Even as the sun baked his scalp and covered every inch of his skin in sweat. 

Joel flapped his shirt to dry the cotton sticking to his chest like silicone glue. His walk was more so a waddle, which was honestly his fault for wearing jeans. The denim chafed against his thighs while combing the work site for any loose supplies. All he wanted to do was hop into his work truck, blast the air conditioning and leave, but instead he diligently checked between every wooden beam and around every corner. Despite the lack of drywall leaving barely any hiding spots, it was insane how often Tommy forgot a power drill behind a tub of paint or cement. 

Or somewhere else incredibly stupid. 

Nothing major today, though. Just a few nails that jingled around in his tool belt as he stepped out onto the future front porch, immediately spotting Tommy. Kinda hard to miss with his big ass head poking out the driver side window while puffing on his daily post-work Marlboro. 

“The engine was making that funny noise again,” Tommy claimed, his voice echoing across the dirt lawns and unpaved driveways of the brand new subdivision. 

Joel walked past the rusty-white hood, but heard nothing other than the usual ancient roar. There was the radio in the cab playing Foolish Games by Jewel – a favorite of Sarah’s. 

“Funny noise, huh?” He eyed Tommy with blatant skepticism before slumping into the dusty cloth seat with a thunk. “Well, sounds like it’s fixed now.” 

“Oh yeah good as new.” Tommy burned the soul from his cigarette, then chucked the butt out the window. “This thing’s gotta be what - 10? 15 years old?” 

“Something like that.” Joel didn’t know off the top of his head. The truck had been a part of the company even longer than him, meaning it had to be somewhere closer to 15 than 10. From what he could recall it’d been a few years off mint condition even when Danny first hired him. 

“Then, how the hell is it still running?” 

“Danny’s a smart man who didn’t buy a shitty Chevy,” Joel lightheartedly jabbed at his little brother – a self-proclaimed Chevrolet man, but only because of his buddies. “He knew that Ford was better - built tough.” 

“Well, ain’t lookin’ too tough now,” Tommy pointed out and Joel shrugged. 

As long as the truck got him from one place to the next, he didn’t care if it was taped together by spit and gorilla glue. He knew for a fact Tommy wouldn’t complain either if a new one was coming out of his wallet instead. 

Tommy threw the truck into reverse. “I’m telling you now, you’re gonna regret not buying a new one sooner.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Joel snorted. “Put some sugar in the gas tank?” 

“I don’t have to sabotage this piece of shit - it’ll crap out on its own soon enough,” Tommy said. “Hell, it could even happen today.” 

“Better not,” Joel grumbled, but otherwise went quiet. He didn’t know why Tommy had to put that idea in his head. Sarah was waiting for him at the shop. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to break down. 

For a mile or so, Joel sat on the edge of his seat, carefully listening to the bumps and groans – typical for a truck around Sarah’s age. The engine rattled as Tommy merged onto Highway 183, but it always did when accelerating. He swore it did. 

Whatever – enough. 

There was paperwork to do. Today’s timesheets were in the glovebox, only halfway complete. So, he pulled out the folder and set to work. At least it offered a distraction from the brakes screeching like a horde of bats during rush hour traffic. 

“Did you ever hear from the concrete guys?” Tommy turned down an obnoxiously loud ad for a car dealership in town. 

Grunting, he curtly nodded. His pen found Harry’s Concrete at the bottom of the sheet and promptly scratched it out with scathing red ink. Just seeing their name triggered a sour taste in his mouth. 

He was used to the concrete guys being flaky, but not like this. These last couple months had been like dandruff in the winter. Brutal. Today, the bastards didn’t even have the balls to call until after lunch. No excuse, either. 

“Third day in a row,” Tommy just had to say, as if he needed a nudge. “In my opinion - I think it’s time to hire somebody else.” 

“Well, you know who to share that opinion with, and it ain’t me,” Joel chided – annoyed. It drove him crazy how often Tommy needed to be reminded of simple things, like what Joel’s role in the business entailed. For God sake – it’d been over a year now since he became a partner in the company. 

Joel could initially understand the confusion. After all, Danny had run the business as a one-man show and everyone, including Joel, thought his daughter would fully take over once he retired. Danny had always said that was the plan anyway, and even named the place: Teddy’s Company. 

Originally, Joel had thought Teddy was her real name until three years ago when he finally got the chance to meet her. But how was he supposed to know when Danny never called her by anything else? It wasn’t like Joel had known much about her back then either, and what little he did came from Danny’s vague and blue-moon updates. 

College is going well. 

Her new job’s treating her good. 

She moved into a new place, seems to like it. 

Short – brief. Some people probably thought Danny was being crusty but that wasn’t the case. No, Danny was never rude or mean, just quiet. A man of few words who on his more mute days could even make Joel look chatty. 

Before meeting her, Joel used to wonder what she’d be like. His future boss. There was a mystery around her that made her seem almost mythical, an enigma. She was like Willy Wonka with her name plastered all over the place: on his shirts, the side of the truck, front and center of the shop. But Joel had no idea who she was. 

Even with a gun to his head, he couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd. Or even a line-up. The only picture he’d seen of her was in a popsicle frame on Danny’s otherwise bare desk: The two of them at a petting zoo where she couldn’t be older than six. 

Without much to go by, Joel had simply assumed that she would look and act, at least somewhat similar to her dad. He’d built Teddy up in his mind as a strong, burly woman who was gruff around the edges. Someone with a sailor’s mouth and stubby fingernails embedded with dirt and grit and grout.

Instead, they were fake and baby pink. She looked like she had never changed a tire in her whole life. 

She probably hadn’t, but she was without a doubt smarter than Tommy and him combined. A graduate from some fancy university in California with an equally fancy business degree. Charming with a nice, smooth voice perfect for sales. If she went to a random street corner to sell bags of cow manure she could sucker anyone, even him, into waiting in line to buy one. 

She was down-right impressive. Finances, pitches, and permits, she could do it all. However, the other side of the business – the manual labor, a little more dirty. 

Joel had not a doubt in his mind that she had the ability to learn it, but did she want to? 

Hell no. 

For one, she had this irrational fear over being electrocuted. Back before Danny retired and she first started working at the front desk, Joel had walked in on her changing out a lightbulb, and you would’ve thought a snake had popped out of the ceiling. He’d mistaken it for a fear of heights until a few months back when Sarah refused to let him shower during a rainstorm. Sarah had looked hysterical using her lanky-arms to body-block the stairs, warning him that he’d get fried if he went up there. 

“Don’t you know dad, lightning can travel through plumbing? Teddy was telling me all about it today.” 

Joel didn’t have a clue where that particular fear stemmed from, but her vendetta against attics, now that he could understand. After all, she’d probably still be in California if not for her dad’s accident. 

It was never Danny’s plan to retire so early. Despite the appointments and constant physical therapy, it’d still caught Joel by surprise, though not as much as Teddy’s offer to run the business alongside her. Together. 50/50. Sure, it came with this boring paperwork, but a bigger paycheck as well. Only a fool would’ve turned that down. 

Besides, promotion or not – he would’ve stayed and worked for her, regardless. 

—

Back at the shop, Joel would usually help Tommy unload the truck, but not today. 

Instead, Joel tucked the file under his arm, hung his tool belt on the rack, then made his way through the garage. He entered through the back door, letting it slam behind him. The cool air greeted him, tingling his tacky skin and he shivered. 

The vents rumbled inside the white hallway walls, echoing around the shop. Along with two voices coming from the lobby. When he heard Teddy’s laugh, he ran a quick hand through his hair, fixing the damp strands away from his forehead. 

He rounded the corner and Teddy was at her desk. Everything from her neck down was cut-off by the high-glass counter, making her look like a floating head. A very nice-looking floating head or a nice head to look at or -

Whatever. 

She was smiling at him – that same honey-golden smile that welcomed him every morning. The same smile he wished was here to welcome him every evening, as well. But with how late he worked most days, it was a hit or miss. He could never guarantee she would still be here, except on the days with Sarah. 

“You’re late,” Sarah said before he could even say hi. 

Joel glanced at the clock above the front door. 5:45. 15 minutes. 

“Barely.” Anything less than thirty was a win in his book. It didn’t matter that Teddy chose to stick around and keep Sarah company, he wouldn’t push it. She was his business partner – not a babysitter. 

“Still late.” Sarah stepped away from Teddy’s desk with her arms crossed menacingly over her chest. If not for the twitch of her lips, she would’ve appeared deadly serious. The girl never could keep a straight face though for more than a second. 

“Let me guess, you’ll forgive me if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” 

Bingo. Sarah tapped on the tip of her nose and Joel huffed a laugh. 

“Well, Uncle Tommy drove, but we can ask-” 

“We?” Sarah looked at him like he was crazy before shaking her head. “I think I’ll handle this one on my own.” 

“What’re you trying to say?” He asked and her lips curved into a half-cocky, half-play smirk that screamed teenage girl. A stage of life he felt rather unprepared for, even more so than diapers and potty training and 6th grade math. The teenage years were bound to be harder than statistics and exponents and long division. 

“Come on, dad. When has Uncle Tommy ever said no to this?” She showed off her best puppy dog eyes and alright – yeah, poor Tommy didn’t stand a chance. 

But Joel didn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. He was too stunned that the little girl who used to hide behind his legs at the grocery store was the same one who was strutting down the hallway now without even glancing back. 

He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at Teddy. “I don’t know where all this confidence of hers has come from recently,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the now-shut door. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with you.” 

“Me?” She fluttered her lashes like she was clueless – definitely something she wasn’t. 

“That’s right,” he replied as he approached her desk. Her area always smelled clean and homey like fresh laundry in a field of wildflowers. The last thing he wanted to do was invade her perfumed bubble with the stench of his sweat and that specific twang that came from being outside all day. So, when he caught a strong whiff of her perfume, he stopped and propped his hip against the desk before saying, “I think you’re rubbing off on her.” 

“And is that such a bad thing?” She squinted at him and unlike Sarah, she could actually keep a straight face. 

“No.” He firmly shook his head. “In fact, I meant that as a compliment.” 

In an instant, her flat-line lips split into a wide grin. He smiled in return, stupidly pleased with himself for making her light up like that. His gaze momentarily dropped from her lips to the single button left undone on her shirt. The charcoal gray fabric shined in a way that reminded him of moonlight over Travis Lake. It looked soft and smooth as butter. And not to mention expensive. Joel bet if he touched it, even so carefully, the material would immediately snag under his callouses. 

Teddy motioned for the file and when he handed it over, he felt a draft under his armpit from the hole in his shirt. He glanced down at his jeans, covered in dirt and mud and sawdust. Filthy. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness. It was hard not to feel like a mess next to her sometimes when she was always dressed so goddamn professional with her pressed slacks and tucked in shirts. Anyone who saw her would think she worked for some big corpo with a koi pond in the lobby. Not a Morton building with more garage than office space. 

“They didn’t show?” 

Teddy’s voice jolted his attention back to her face. Her lips were pinched, her cherry red fingernail was bleeding into his own pissed-off pen marks. He mentally cursed himself for being too wrapped up in his own stupid head to warn her about the concrete guys. Good going, idiot. 

There was nothing he could do about it now, except frown and shake his head. “They called and said-” 

“Let me guess, they’ll be there first thing tomorrow?” She bitterly scoffed, clipping the folder shut. The manila spine crunched under her grip before she abruptly turned away from him to face the wall of cabinets behind her. She never said it out loud that it bothered her, but clearly it did and rightfully so. 

Working here this long Joel had witnessed these same people treat her dad with respect only to now try and walk all over her. He found it complete and utter bullshit, but was it a surprise? Sadly, not really. Enough years around construction sites and his tinnitus resembled cat-calls more than a compressor. 

Still, he fucking hated it. His left eye flinched watching her file away the folder in silence. The protective lobe in his brain flared as his fingers curled and burned into a fist at his side. God – he wanted to go to Harry’s Concrete and give that bald loser a piece of his mind and maybe a black eye, but he didn’t. 

He wouldn’t. 

No – instead, he continued to bite his tongue until his mouth flooded with the taste of pennies. He’d become used to the tang of copper in his mouth after the roofers, the plumbers, even the electricians that tried her in the past. The only reason he held himself back was because of her. Because she asked him to let her deal with it, and she was perfectly capable of handling things herself. Better than him at it, in fact. 

Teddy slammed the drawer shut, rattling the entire cabinet. “I’m not gonna fire them.” 

“Okay,” he said without having to think twice. He didn’t expect her to fire them, honestly.  She’d explained to him before that she’d never burn bridges prematurely. The grass was not always greener on the other side, especially not in Texas. Especially not in this line of work. 

“Or - I should say I’m not going to fire them yet, anyway.” Her voice was steady – determined. “But one more and it’s over. I’m gonna let Harry know that he’s on his last strike when I call him tomorrow.” 

“Give ‘em hell,” he encouraged her. Whatever she said in those calls had, so far, been enough to whip everyone who crossed her into shape. Just once, he wished he could be a fly on the wall to witness her in action. She didn’t look particularly tough, but he imagined her being like an asp caterpillar, fuzzy and harmless until poked.

She didn’t linger on the topic, and instead asked about his day. He did the same. Neither had much to report outside the usual. 

“So, how was Sarah today? Did she talk your ear off about the homecoming dance coming up?” 

She giggled, gathering up the papers on her desk and stacking them into a neat pile in the corner. “How did you know?” 

“Cause she found out Monday, and hasn’t talked about anything else since.” 

“Oh and it’s only just begun,” she said with a smirk. “Welcome to your life for the next few weeks, Joel.” 

Joel scratched at the spot where his temple was already beginning to throb. Why did they have to announce it so early? It was great seeing Sarah so excited, but she kept asking him about his own first homecoming. He hated lying to her, but he couldn’t very well tell her the only thing he remembered was Rachel Borthwick and how she let him feel her up – the first boobs he ever touched – underneath the gymnasium bleachers. The thought of Sarah being that same age made him want to throw up. 

He swallowed the thought before it came out all over her desk. “Were you the same way at her age?” 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure if you asked my dad, he’d tell you I was worse.” She snorted, almost seeming embarrassed by her younger self. “For some odd reason, I had it built up in my mind that it’d be like that prom scene from Grease. Minus the broadcast and all that-” 

“Wait, your dance wasn’t on the news?” He tried to keep a straight face, but he was just as bad as his daughter. 

“Shut up.” She playfully shoved his arm and he rubbed it like it hurt. She rolled her eyes, but continued anyway. “My dad didn’t have the heart to tell me, so it was a pretty huge letdown when they didn’t even play Born to Hand Jive. I think I even requested it.” 

“How did you survive?” 

“It’s a miracle,” she said, and he huffed out a laugh. Three years later, and she still surprised him with every new story she chose to reveal. 

There was a split-second where the only sound in the room came from the buzzy-white fluorescent lights above him. Teddy stole a quick glance towards the hallway, as if checking if Sarah was back. She had still not reappeared and he wondered if Tommy had baited her into helping him unload the truck or maybe just sticking around to talk. 

Teddy clicked her fingernails on the counter in front of him. “Real quick, I wanted to ask,” she said before clearing her throat. “Have you and Sarah talked at all about dress shopping?” 

Joel shifted back a step, his boots scratching against the cheap, gray carpet. “Dress shopping?” He forced the words from his throat, then shook his head. He looked away, feeling a pit in his stomach that reminded him of Muffins for Mother’s Day in elementary school – Mommy & Me at the daycare. 

Again – dress shopping was another one of those things girls usually did with their mom’s, but Lisa wasn’t meant to be a mom. She’d even said so herself in the note she left next to her engagement ring on the day she vanished with their dog. Joel wished his own mom was still around to help fill in when the gaps felt too big for him, but sadly, she had passed away before Sarah turned 4. Since then, it’d only been just Tommy and him. 

“The only reason I ask is because,” Teddy started, clutching at the dainty gold chain around her neck, “Well, she sorta asked me to take her.” 

“Oh.” Joel didn’t know what else to say. Not that it offended him or anything petty like that. God no – he wasn’t delusional enough to think that he would be Sarah’s first choice when it came to fashion. After all, his idea of dressing up was a flannel and whatever jeans were clean. Teddy made a lot more sense than him. 

“I didn’t give her an answer, just so you know. I wanted to check with you first.” Her voice was rushed, slightly pitchy, and he realized this was the first time he’d ever seen her even remotely nervous. She must be just as cautious as him about crossing whatever line was supposed to exist in this…relationship? Dynamic? 

Joel smiled at her, softly, hoping to ease her anxiety. “Well, thank you,” he said and she appeared to relax at his calm tone. “I have no problems with you taking her, as long as you wanna do it.” 

“Of course, I want to, but are you - are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us if you want. We could all go together?” 

The offer was tempting, but he declined. He knew Sarah would enjoy it being just the two of them. It could be girl time or whatever. 

Teddy pulled out her planner to check on what dates would work best when Sarah came back in. Once she heard the good news, the victorious grin on her face somehow grew even bigger. The last time he saw her that excited was when he surprised her with tickets to Six Flags for her 11th birthday. 

Teddy and her started to discuss which stores to hit and what mall would be best, basically a foreign language to him. He should’ve started on closing duties, but instead he found his gaze drawn to Teddy. How she appeared equally as thrilled as Sarah. He always could tell when she was excited by the way she talked with her hands. That smile was downright infectious and – 

He noticed Sarah watching him. Her quizzical eyes were glued to his face. Shit. He was staring. Quick. Joel forced a smile at Sarah that hopefully said nothing-to-see-here. He didn’t stick around to wait for her reaction and instead, fled into his office. 

For a few minutes, he pretended to check over files and went down the list of closing duties, completely avoiding them until the only thing left was setting the alarm. Finally, he dared to look in their direction again. When he saw Sarah’s focus was entirely on Teddy, the tension drained from his shoulders. 

He thought he was in the clear. 

—-

“Dad, do you think Teddy’s pretty?” 

Joel’s head whipped up and a sharp, pointy fry was lodged into the back of his throat. It burned and stabbed its way down to his esophagus. For a second, he thought he was going to choke and die at his own dining room table from a McDonald’s fry. 

“What?” His voice crackled like sandpaper from holding in a cough. 

“She asked if you thought Teddy was pretty?” Tommy repeated, loud and clear with a smug grin that he didn’t even try to hide behind his Big Mac. 

Joel’s gaze flickered from one set of brown eyes to the next. He was cornered, his back against the bay window. No way out and no one to blame but himself for this mess. He was, after all, the dummy who got caught. 

Joel held up a waiting finger, then slowly sipped on his coke to calm his burning throat. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he wrapped his head around what to say. Lying was out of the question. It seemed more damning than the truth. 

The thing was – there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t like she was asking if he liked her. Not that he did like her. Well, maybe just a little. Just a teeny, tiny crush but it was nothing really. Stupid, honestly. For the most part, he could ignore it. 

Joel cleared his throat and gave a casual shrug. “Uh yeah, she’s uh - she’s pretty.” 

Despite his best attempt at cool, Sarah’s lips still flickered. Only the corners, as she continued to bathe her fries in a pool of ketchup. 

“Have you ever thought about - maybe asking her out?” 

A deep laugh barked in his ears and bounced around the tile floor like spiky ping pong balls. “Come on, Teddy’s way out of his league.” Tommy’s hand collided against his shoulder with a hard thwack. It slightly stung. 

But Joel didn’t take it too seriously. Tommy hassling him over Teddy was nothing new. Ever since she started working the front desk, it’d been Tommy’s favorite gag. In a weird way, Joel considered it a good thing that he saw it as one big joke. If Tommy had any idea about his silly crush, he would’ve kept his mouth shut instead of teasing him. Tommy might’ve been a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel. 

Sarah didn’t seem to care whether it was a joke or not and scolded her uncle from across the table. She gave him a hard glare before turning back to Joel. She blinked expectantly, not letting him out of this. 

Joel sighed. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t think so.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” He licked his teeth and sucked a stuck piece of meat from between his molars. There was a laundry list of reasons, but he went with the least complicated. “We work together.”

“So? Two teachers at my school are dating, and it’s no big deal. They didn’t even get in trouble.” 

“Wait,” Tommy piped in with a mouthful of bun and sauce. “Isn’t she dating someone?” 

Joel swallowed down the salty taste in his mouth, bitter like vinegar. He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“You think so?” Sarah looked at him with clear suspicion. “So, she didn’t tell you that.” 

“Well…no. But-” 

“Then, how do you know?” 

Joel crinkled the empty wrapper into a tight ball, then tossed it into the paper bag. “Somebody sent her flowers at work. Nice ones too.” Too grand to fit in her car, so instead they lived and died in the tiny break room directly across from his office. 

“When?” 

Three months. “I don’t know, not that long ago.” 

“Well, how do you know they weren’t from her dad?” Sarah asked, not backing down. “Or maybe her friends sent them?” 

Joel shook his head, recalling the stupid plastic holder that had poked out at him like a giant weed among the long stem roses. “The card said Happy Anniversary.” 

At that, Sarah sank into the chair like a deflated balloon. She shoved a whole chicken nugget into her mouth – no sauce. Each dry crunch-crunch grated against the silence. 

This recent interest in his love life was new. He wondered if it had something to do with her age or maybe all those rom-coms she watched. She’d never cared about him dating or – she did try to set him up once, a few months ago, with her best friend’s recently divorced mom, but when he shot it down she had quickly moved on. 

But she didn’t even finish her chicken nuggets. He noticed a faraway look in her eyes – his eyes, one of the only things she inherited from him. She was somewhere deep in her head, in that big brain of hers that definitely didn’t come from him. 

She did eventually perk up when Tommy brought up the new season of the Bachelor, but still wasn’t her usual self. So after Tommy left, Joel settled in beside her on the couch to watch Friends. This show was like her pacifier. Sick or just a bad day, one of Joey’s jokes could cheer her up instantly. 

Not today, though. A whole episode later, and she’d barely said a word. Barely laughed, which had him really concerned. He got the sense that whatever was bothering her was something bigger than just Teddy. 

“You’re quiet tonight.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and snugged her closer. She collapsed into him like a domino. Full cheeks squished against his shirt. She didn’t respond, and he didn’t press. Only can-laughter existed in the space between them. 

Laying like this reminded him of when she was a baby. So tiny, a full head of hair even then. She would fall asleep on his bare chest while waiting for Lisa to return home from work. Looking back, the signs had always been there that one day she would run. She’d practically lived at her job after her maternity leave was done. Hell, she didn’t even take the full 6 weeks. Post-partum, the doctor called it, it’ll get better in time. But it didn’t. There was no medication cocktail that could make her want this life – that could make her want to stay. 

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s eyes didn’t leave Phoebe and Monica. 

“Anything,” he murmured against her hair before placing a light kiss to the top of her head. She no longer smelled of Johnson & Johnson or desitin, but coconuts and lime. 

“Are you lonely?” 

Even with her feathery-soft tone, the words hit him like a sucker punch, square in the jaw. Where the hell did that come from? 

“Do I seem lonely?” The words left him like a reflex, automatic. It was the second time tonight she’d caught him off-guard. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her shoulders sliding along his t-shirt. “Are you?” 

Slowly Sarah lifted her head – her big eyes bore into him and when he could trace every concerned line on her young face, the guilt smothered him like wet mineral wool. It was his job to worry, not hers. 

He urgently shook his head. “No. Of course not.” 

She silently stared at him, squinting as if somehow it would give her Professor X’s ability to read his mind. Clearly, he did not convince her and so he tried again. Harder. 

“Sarah, listen. I am perfectly fine, alright?” He brushed a curly strand of hair from her face, firmly holding her gaze. “If I was lonely, I’d go do something with Uncle Tommy. He’s always asking me to do things after work-” 

“Why don’t you?” 

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at her confusion. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. Teenagers always wanted to be out somewhere, doing something with their friends.

“Cause I’m old. And I’m tired. And honestly, I’d rather be home.” With you. The last part never slipped through the gap in his bottom teeth. He never wanted to make Sarah feel guilty for leaving him and living her life. 

“You’re such a hermit.” She nudged at his chest, a smile sweeping across her face. Exactly what he’d been missing. 

“I prefer homebody,” he corrected, making her burst into a giggling fit. He waited until she went quiet to say, “Either way - you ain’t gotta worry about me, alright?” 

Once again, her expression turned very serious. Her eyes darted once, twice, across his face. “Swear?” 

“On my life.”

—

Later that night, Joel laid awake in bed fighting to find a comfortable position. Even sprawling out in the middle didn’t work. The sheets were tangled around his legs, his feet – his thoughts equally twisted up from Sarah’s question earlier. 

Are you lonely? Was he? 

Joel had never considered himself to be lonely. Not really. Or not all the time, at least. For the most part, Sarah and work kept him busy enough that he never gave it much thought. 

If he did think about it though, he supposed crawling into bed alone every night could get a little depressing. He was still human, after all. Intimacy was a basic human need. It was just simple biology when he occasionally craved a soft touch or someone to talk with before drifting off to sleep. It’d been a long damn time since he experienced either of those things. 

Maybe Sarah was onto something. Maybe it was time for him to get back out there, but oh God. Just thinking about it made him light-headed. 

Where would he even start?

His last serious relationship was his only serious relationship. After Lisa left, there was hardly any time for that. Being a single dad, dating wasn’t his top priority. 

Sure, he’d managed to squeeze in a few first dates over the years, even less second ones, and he couldn’t for the life of him recall a third. If so, it’d been nothing worth remembering. 

Honestly, the only person he’d considered asking out recently was Teddy. It was just a dumb idea that crossed his mind sometime in late spring when too much tree pollen and dust mites must’ve gotten into his head. He’d luckily come to his senses and fast. A few short weeks later, those damn flowers showed up. 

If he was being honest, no one else really interested him. 

And how could they? 

It wasn’t even just about her looks, she was sweet and smart and surprisingly funny. Joking or not, Tommy was right – she was way out of his league and why was he thinking about this right now? Joel cleared his mind with a hard shake of his head. He needed to stop, get some sleep. He didn’t want to know what time it was already. Without looking at the clock, he flipped onto his side, fluffed his pillow, then shut his eyes. 

Within seconds, Teddy slithered back into his mind with her perfect smile, the delicious scent of her soap, and those jeans she would undoubtedly wear tomorrow. Casual Friday might actually be the death of him. Denim on her hips was seriously a sin.  

Just thinking of her fully-clothed ass made his cock twitch inside his boxers. Somehow that was enough to get him half-hard, the tip snagging over the soft-cotton. 

Joel groaned in unison with the bed springs as he flopped onto his back. His palms itched to reach down and squeeze at his cock for a little relief. But he resisted, and forced his mind to somewhere far less pleasant. Broken wires. Wrong-size headers. Clogged drains. A memory of her gripping a PVC pipe invaded his brain and suddenly, it was her small hands wrapped around him instead. How would she look on her knees for him? Would she be able to fit him all in her two hands? If not, would she use her – 

“Fuck.” Joel gritted his teeth and fisted at the comforter. Get a grip. 

He felt like he was going crazy. Probably from the lack of action outside of his own fist. It was finally catching up with him. Tommy did warn him this would happen and fuck – he hated when Tommy was right. 

Joel thought back to the last time he had sex and cringed. Two years ago, but the memory was tattooed in his brain just like the monarch butterfly on the random woman’s lower back. It happened at a sleazy bar where everyone knew Tommy by name. He’d taken too many shots of Wild Turkey, then found himself fucking the woman in a one staller, quick and sloppy, right next to a clogged toilet. Not his proudest moment. He’d go to the grave blaming the whole thing on Tommy, who treated their rare nights out like the bachelor party he was still pissed off that he didn’t get to throw. 

The truth was though, even before Joel’s current involuntary celibacy, his sex life had been relatively non-existent. 

He hadn’t had sex on a semi-consistent basis since his 20’s. A casual hookup with a lady named Amy, who lived in the same apartment complex as him. No-strings attached. An arrangement born out of pure convenience rather than desire or intense lust. She lived in the apartment below him, and once a week came up after Sarah went to sleep and left before the condom hit the trash can. No surprise it ended once he moved out, and ever since then, it’d been random hookups and one-night stands whenever Tommy and him went out for a night. 

Joel sighed and stared up at the moon-stain ceiling of his bedroom, careful not to make any sudden movements in hopes to fight down his erection. While still and quiet might’ve worked to spook a black bear, his boner was sadly proving more resilient. 

With every passing minute, the warm tingly feeling in his belly spread like weeds through his body. His fingertips down to his toes. Fully hard, now. It became clear ignoring it was useless. He would just have to get this over with, so he could get some sleep tonight. 

Joel forcibly kicked off his blankets, then shoved down his boxers. His cock thwacked against his stomach and the tip was already shiny. He preferred to do this in the shower to avoid a mess, the steady stream of water helping to cover up his dry, cracked hands better than saliva. But something was better than nothing. He spit into his hand until his mouth was dry, then wrapped it around his cock. 

Whether in the shower or in his bed, it didn’t matter, Joel always jerked off like it was a chore. Hard and fast strokes where he could barely catch his breath. No need for soft and sensual, just a tight fist to take the edge off. This way, he found it easier to keep his less than friendly thoughts of Teddy at bay. 

He tried his best not to think about Teddy while doing this because friends don’t imagine their friends while fucking their fist. And that was all she was, all she would ever be – a friend. If he could he wouldn’t have thought of anyone at all, but he needed someone to imagine to get off. 

Instead of Teddy, he pictured a cover model from a 90’s Penthouse Magazine that he’d found in the guest room after Tommy moved out. A pretty brunette with big natural tits, who he didn’t have to work with tomorrow. 

His room steadily filled with the wet slap of his hand, the low thrum of the oscillating fan as he pretended the nameless woman was riding him. He was brutally fucking his fist when the woman shape-shifted into Teddy. So abruptly that he could barely register that it was her taking him down to the hilt. Her rolling her hips. Her fingernails scratching over his ribs, his shoulders, his chest with a little smirk even more sinful than her tight jeans. 

“Shit,” Joel hissed when he realized, but too late – his hips surged forward as he came. So sudden, so fast, it almost gave him whiplash. 

Joel was not usually loud during sex, more of a grunter than anything else, but it had never been so vivid. So real. He could practically feel the wet-heat of her cunt clenching around him. He had to snag his bottom lip between his teeth to keep every needy and desperate sound from bleeding out of his mouth as his cock pulsed and throbbed against his palm. He wouldn’t let himself find out what her name tasted like when he moaned. 

Clearly, this was not the first time she’d popped into his mind and he doubted it would be the last. He wouldn’t feel nearly as bad about it either, but there was a fuck-ton of cum on his stomach. Even a little on his chest. Fuck – he came so hard it made him lightheaded. 

He let the shame simmer down and once he caught his breath, he carefully dug out a travel-pack of Kleenex from his nightstand. He didn’t even wanna count how many tissues it took to wipe the syrupy-hot evidence from his skin. 

He’d be sticking to the shower from now until forever. 

—

The days had come and went and over a week later, Joel had not jacked off again. Not in the shower, and definitely not in his bed. But that had nothing to do with Teddy. Seriously. It was just a coincidence. 

Work had picked up. The heat wave had died out, giving way to more 80 degree days. Fall was fast approaching, by far their busiest season. There was a brand new neighborhood of bland cookie-cutter slab houses that had him working doubles everyday and judging by today, this week would be the exact same way. 

The streets were dark and mainly deserted by the time Joel dropped Tommy off at his apartment complex. Joel glanced at his phone – once again – for any missed calls before heading home. Still nothing. No new voicemails – 0 messages. 

The first and last time he heard from Sarah was after Teddy picked her up from school, right before heading into the mall. He’d told Sarah to call him once Teddy dropped her off, but she must’ve forgot. The same way she always forgot to lock the front door. He would be home in less than 5 minutes or else he would’ve called. But he would rather give her a talking-to in person. 

For a second, he wondered if she and Teddy were still at the mall, but it was late. Nearly 9. 

No one could spend 5 hours there. Hell, he could barely spend more than 2 without going stir-crazy. 

The last thing he expected when pulling onto his street was to see Teddy’s car parked in front of his house. The pearly white shell was perfectly lit up underneath a street light. 

What was she doing here?

He thought she would drop Sarah off and dip after their shopping trip, but obviously not. Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t waiting on him. Joel whipped into his driveway and hopped out without bothering to grab his tool box in the back. 

Inside, the living room was lit up with every lamp turned on, but otherwise empty. It was still tidy from the cleaning he did on Sunday, thankfully. He threw his keys on the console table, shutting the front door with his foot. He heard movement upstairs and headed that way. 

“Sarah,” he called out, mainly to give a heads-up and not scare them. “I’m home.” 

“Finally,” Sarah said as he stepped into her room. It smelled like that Body Works store at Barton Creek that Sarah loved, but always had him leaving with a headache. 

He stayed close to the fresh air and leaned against the door frame. Sarah was perched at her vanity, the counter in front of her completely buried under make-up, nail polish, and a bunch of other crap. 

“Teddy’s helping me decide what to wear with my dress.” Sarah swiveled around in her stool to face him. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Joel looked over at Teddy, who was standing behind Sarah with an earring pinched in each hand. The smile on her face was genuine. If she was in any real hurry to leave she didn’t show it. “When did y’all get back?” 

“I don’t know. 8:15? 8:20? Somewhere around there.” Sarah shared a shrug with Teddy. A little over thirty minutes, not bad. With the mess, he would’ve thought closer to an hour. 

“Dinner took a bit longer than I thought it would,” Teddy explained and his brows furrowed. 

“Busy night at the food court or something?” 

He noticed Sarah and Teddy share a secretive glance, and of course, they didn’t eat at the food court. He should’ve known better than to think Teddy would just take her to Sbarro. But out of every chain restaurant – did she have to pick the damn Cheesecake Factory?

Sarah was raving over the Mac & Cheese balls that definitely cost more than the 10 dollars he sent for baked ziti. Judging by the amount of shopping bags in the corner, Sarah had used her extra spending money on clothes instead of Chicken Costoletta. 

He waited until Sarah turned her back to nail Teddy with a knowing look. She swatted it away like a bothersome fly. She could be so damn stubborn sometimes. 

Later, he would deal with it. Money was not a topic he liked to discuss in front of Sarah. Besides, there were more important things at the moment. 

“So, are you gonna show me this dress of yours?” 

Sarah eagerly nodded and bounced over to her bed, picking up the black garment bag. It didn’t even allow him a peek at the color, not even when she hugged it tightly to her chest. 

“Well, come on - don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been waiting all night.” 

“Dad, you gotta see it on me or else you won’t get the full-effect,” she sassed, a duh implied in her tone. “Go downstairs, you and Teddy can wait-”

“Now, hold on there Sarah. It’s - it’s getting pretty late,” he pointed out, and Sarah’s fraying smile told him that she knew what he was trying to say. He hated disappointing her, but this was the right thing to do. “So Teddy, if you need to go home, don’t feel like you gotta stay.” 

Selfishly, Joel wanted her to stay, but why would she? She had already seen the dress, already given up her entire evening for Sarah. This was a free out, and he expected her to take it. 

Instead, She crossed her arms over her chest like a defiant child. “No way you’re getting rid of me that easily, Joel,” she said. “I’m sticking around to see your reaction.” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, she slid past him, her chest brushing against his arm. She motioned him to follow and he did without question. 

She led the way downstairs as if she’d been here before. But the few times she’d come by before to drop off paperwork she never made it past the front porch. 

His pulse slightly hiked up seeing her in his living room for the first time. Her gaze scanning the camel-colored walls, the pictures of Sarah throughout the years, his guitar that he rarely found time to play. Above the DVD and CD rack was the only real piece of art in the room – if that’s what people would call the painting of waves he’d found at a garage sale, the same one where he got the mismatched pillows on the couch. 

Interior design wasn’t his strong suit, but he was still proud of his home. Proud of himself for buying it on his own, for being able to prove this kind of place for his kid. All of this, from the rug to every decoration and lamp. It was best attempts to make this space feel homey – lived in for Sarah’s sake. She would not be the only kid in class growing up in a bachelor pad. 

“So, this is Joel Miller’s house?” Teddy spun around to face him and he found that she looked really good next to his coffee table. “It’s nice. I like it.” 

“Yeah?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, toeing the tile-carpet line that separated the kitchen from the living room. 

“Especially the Cowboys decor.” She pointed her thumb at the framed blue star logo that was hung up by the stairs. “Did you know I used to wanna be a cheerleader for them?”

Joel’s mouth went drier than when eating pretzels. He rapidly shook his head, mainly to erase the mental image of her in that skimpy little outfit. It would probably haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life. 

He cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. “I’m surprised Sarah didn’t give you a tour.” 

“Oh, she did.” Teddy plopped down on the couch with him, keeping a friendly distance of a cushion. “But don’t worry, the grand tour didn’t include your bedroom. She said that was off limits.” She puckered her bottom lip, pouting as if actually disappointed. 

“Trust me, you’re not missing much.” 

“But isn’t that where the magic happens?” 

Joel accidentally let out a snort. Magic. Nothing close to magic had ever happened in that room, unless what he did last week counted. “I think you’ve been watching too much Cribs.” 

Her lips parted, her eyes lit up with a wild look of amusement. “Does Joel Miller secretly watch MTV?” 

“Only against my will.” He jerked his chin towards the stairs. “She loves all that shit.” 

“Yeah. She did talk a lot about True Life while at din…ner.” Teddy clipped her lips together, catching her slip. 

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.” His tone carried a smug edge, making her huff in annoyance.  “So, how ‘bout you tell me how much I owe you for it?” 

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Teddy,” he warned. Still, she insistently shook her head, refusing to make things easy for him. 

“Sorry, but I can’t let you pay me back,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right.” 

“Really? How come?” 

She straightened her posture, the brown leather groaning underneath her. “Well, for one - it was my decision to take her there, wasn’t it?” 

“So?” 

“So, it doesn’t make sense for you to have to pay for something I decided, now does it?” 

Joel licked his teeth at her loop-hole logic. She was eyeing him with a very serious expression, as if this wasn’t over 30? 35 bucks? Hell, there was probably enough in his wallet right now to cover it. 

If this were anyone else, Joel would’ve already said fuck this and drained his wallet of every nickel and dime, just to be safe. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer because he didn’t need anyone’s help or handout. He made enough money to support not only himself, but his daughter perfectly fine. Thank you. 

But this wasn’t just anyone – this was Teddy. Whether it was because she did his payroll or because she was so bullheaded, he didn’t know, but she had a funny way of making him fold. 

“Secondly.” She lifted a second finger before he could raise the white flag. “It wouldn’t be right for you to pay me back for your own gift.” 

Huh? “Gift?” 

She hummed in response. “There might be a little early birthday present waiting for you in the fridge.” 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone, other than Sarah, got him a birthday present. Most of the time, not even Tommy did; his presence was the present or whatever bullshit he said. But she’d thought of him. Him. The idea made his chest begin to swell like metal on a blazing summer day. He ducked his head to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. 

“You didn’t need to get me any-” 

Teddy grasped his arm, instantly turning the rest of his sentence into sawdust. His gaze flickered from her hand on his forearm, to her eyes. She really was beautiful, especially in the warm pool of lamp light in his living room. 

“I wanted to,” she assured him with a voice as soft as her touch. Her thumb gently skimmed over his arm hair and he held back a shiver with the clench of his teeth. “It’s just Classic Vanilla Bean Cheesecake. A little boring, but Sarah said that’s your favorite.”

“It is.” His voice cracked like a pre-teen and embaressed, he averted his eyes. How ridiculous. He needed to get a grip. Pull himself together. He was acting like a fucking virgin. Joel swallowed and stiffly nodded. “Thank you.” 

She gave his arm a small squeeze before pulling away. The spot where she touched him still tingled, still burned. 

“It’s the least I could do, since I’ll be missing it.” 

Joel brushed her off with an easy wave of his hand. Other than work, he didn’t have any plans, so she really wasn’t missing anything. “I think you’ll have more fun in Phoenix, anyway.” 

“Just don’t let Tommy set the place on fire while I’m gone.” 

“Do you have that little faith in me?” he asked – teased. It was only a few days. Leaving Thursday, back in the office by the following. 

She lightly nudged his arm, just as a door opened. 

“Are you ready?” Sarah called out, and his focus shifted to the bottom of the stairs. 

“I was born ready, kiddo. So, come on, let’s see it.” Joel drummed his hands excitedly against his thighs. 

Waiting there reminded him of the fashion shows she used to put on for him. She’d wait at the top of the stairs until he popped in the Whitney Houston CD. For the big finale, they would dance around the living room to I Wanna Dance With Somebody. 

But Sarah didn’t appear in a bright-pink princess costume, but instead a pretty little purple dress. Her heels were real, not made out of cheap plastic or from the Dollar Tree. His little girl looked so grown up. The realization that she was grown up made the back of his eyes burn. 

Joel scrubbed a hand down his slack, scruffy jaw, watching Sarah twist from side-to-side. The shiny material swished around her knees. 

“Baby girl, you look - beautiful,” he said without trying to hide the crackle in his voice. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Sarah giggled, almost bashfully. “That’s exactly what Teddy said.” 

“Well, that’s because it’s the truth,” Teddy stated earnestly. Sarah’s entire face lit up and God –  she had such a killer smile. He would never get tired of seeing it.

When Sarah pulled back her hair to show Teddy two different pairs of earrings, she immediately went over to get a closer look. 

Discussing jewelry and lip gloss, Sarah’s shiny wide eyes clung to her every word as if it was wrapped in gold, as if it held some infinite wisdom. It suddenly hit him that he’d never seen Sarah look at anyone like that. Not her favorite teacher. Not her best friend’s mom. Not even Mrs. Adler who lived next door and used to babysit her after school. 

Poor Mrs. Adler, she meant well but Sarah and her could not have been more different. Thinking about it, Teddy was the first woman that Sarah shared anything in common with, who she didn’t have to share with the rest of the class or came second to a friend. 

For once, Sarah had some special bond for herself. 

His breath caught in his throat watching Teddy fuss with Sarah’s dress. Her eyes barely leaving Sarah’s bright face as she untwisted a strap and smoothed out a few spots in the back. For a second, he imagined her here with them every night – thought about how seamlessly she would fit into their lives. 

Holy shit - what the fuck is he doing? Stop it. 

Joel forced himself to look away, pruning those thoughts before they grew. The light, liquid warmth in his chest ran cold. It turned into mercury when it settled in his belly. 

Luckily, Sarah and Teddy were too preoccupied with finishing details to notice him obsessively picking at his fingernails. He didn’t know what got a hold of him.

This was insane. She was his friend, his business partner, and whatever she was to Sarah that was more important than a stupid crush. No – he would not complicate a good thing with his feelings. Feelings she didn’t reciprocate. For God sake, she was dating someone else. Get over it. 

Joel thought it might be a good thing that Teddy would be gone for a few days. More than ever, he needed some distance. Some time to help screw his head back on straight. 

—

Too early on Tuesday morning, Joel sleepily fought the coffee machine until dark liquid gurgled and spewed into the pot. 

“Have you heard from Teddy at all?” Tommy asked as Joel filled up a to-go cup. 

“Oh yeah, hear from her every night before going to sleep.” 

“Really?” 

Joel shoved the coffee pot back inside its home, and blinked at Tommy. “Of course not. She’s on vacation. Why would she call me?” 

He figured she’d brought whoever she was dating on the trip with her. They were probably going to her cousin’s wedding, meeting her college roommates new baby while he was here - in Texas. Alone. When he thought about it like that, it put everything into some much needed perspective. 

Joel didn’t give Tommy a chance to respond before barging out and heading to the garage. He still was not used to seeing her empty desk instead of her warm smile, telling him to have a good day. 

“So, do you miss her, yet?” Tommy asked while loading up the truck. 

“She’s only been gone a few days,” Joel snorted, as if it was a ridiculous question to ask. “Why? Do you miss her?” 

“Miss her coffee, that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced at the cup before taking a tentative sip. “Shit sucks. You add too much water.” 

“I’d like to see you do any better.” Joel obnoxiously slurped on his drink, then winced. It did kinda taste like dirt. “She does make it better,” he conceded. “It’ll be nice to have her back.” 

The distance had been a good thing for him, though. It was much easier for him to think without her dizzying perfume. What happened in his living room had been just a moment of weakness, of panic. Blown completely out of proportion. 

The thing was – he’d always had a crush on her. It was nothing new, and he was perfectly happy with just this. With never being anything more than friends – her in his life, that was enough for him. 

It had to be. 

“Well, speaking of Thursday.” Tommy spoke in a tone that almost always meant he wanted something. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I gotta leave work early that day.” 

“Why? Got an appointment or something?” 

Tommy shook his head, then spewed a sob story that lasted nearly the entire drive to the site. His buddy Aaron had just broken up with his cheating girlfriend, and needed help moving out of their apartment. Too bad it wasn’t a different one of Tommy's military buddies or Joel would’ve immediately said no, but Aaron actually wasn’t a douchebag. 

“Well, what time would you leave? Cause we gotta finish that block by Friday-”

“She works the night shift, so not until like 3 or 4,” he said, swaying him further. “And Aaron said he’ll pick me up from the site, so you ain’t gotta do anything.” 

Joel shrugged, whatever. Fine. They would just have to work late tonight and tomorrow. 

—-

So far, Thursday had not gone at all like Joel had anticipated. His reunion with Teddy this morning was disappointingly quick. It wasn’t like he expected her to run into his arms and hug him or anything dramatic like that, but he did think it would be more than just a few minutes of small talk where Tommy dominated most of the conversation with his plans for later. 

Which turned out to be total bullshit by the way. 3 to 4 ended up being more like 1:30, ruining his chance to see Teddy this evening. The inspectors would be here tomorrow morning, so the frame had to be finished tonight with or without an extra set of hands. 

Now, at 6:30, Joel was just leaving the site. He picked up Wendy’s to make up for his crummy day, only for the burger to be loaded with pickles and onions when he specifically asked for ketchup only. He still scarfed it down, along with a medium dry on the drive back to shop where the only thing that would be waiting for him was an empty office and a fat-ass stack of paperwork. Some supply sheets that could hopefully be knocked out before Sarah needed to be picked up later. 

He pulled in through the back entrance and was taking his sweet time unloading the truck. Lowly humming Wedding Bells by the great Hank Williams when the door opened with a screech. The sound echoed around the steel walls of the garage and he jerked, nearly dropping a nail gun on his foot. Somehow, he managed to catch it just before it slid off the rack. 

He turned around and - “Teddy?” 

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she said in a sweet drawl that made his pulse race for an entirely different reason. 

He stared at her dumbly, blinking rapidly to make sure this was not just his imagination. She was still here. He wet his throat with a hard swallow. “You surprised me.” 

“I can tell.” She giggled and embarrassment swarmed his neck like fire ants. He couldn’t believe she just witnessed him flail around like an idiot. He promptly went back to gathering up the last of the wooden boards and stacking them in the corner. “Did you not see my car out front?” 

“I came in off 77th,” he explained, brushing the dust from his hands onto his jeans. 

“I could’ve helped.” She leaned against the door, opening it wider as he walked over. 

“Nah, I got it,” he said with a casual shake of his head. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin that shirt, anyway.” His eyes dipped over the satiny material, this time a deep maroon.

“It is a great shirt.” She playfully bumped into his side with her shoulder when he stepped inside. The delicious scent of her soap sent an electric jolt up his spine. He matched her steps down the hallway. “What’re you still doing here anyway?” 

“Well, there’s the Fox Ridge pitch tomorrow and there’s two more next week. And I have been gone for like a week.” She tucked herself back behind her desk. “Remember?” 

Oh yeah, he remembered. 

For a few minutes, they caught up on work and talked about homecoming, which was Saturday, and Sarah, who was currently at her friend’s house making posters or whatever for the big game tomorrow. He asked if she enjoyed her trip, which she obviously did from the glow around her. He almost asked about the wedding until he noticed all the files on her desk, the neat stacks of paper labeled with post-it notes that clearly showed she was busy. 

He decided not to be selfish and take up anymore of her time and instead went into his office. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” she told him before he closed the door. He left it slightly cracked in a way that seemed inviting before taking a seat at his desk. He would’ve just left it wide open if he thought it would be possible to focus. But even the back of her head could be enough to distract him. 

Just like the rest of the shop, his office had been recorated by Teddy when Danny retired. He’d actually offered her the office, multiple times, but she refused. She preferred the natural light in the front, and he couldn��t blame her when the one window in here was puny and overlooked the trash cans. 

Without her, Joel would’ve left the walls as blank and as white as Danny, the bookshelves just as bare and dusty, and there wouldn’t be a single lamp, let alone two. But he definitely appreciated the lamps this late in the day when the overhead light would burn too loud and bright. 

Supposedly, she’d gotten them for free from a friend that was moving. He’d believed the story, at first, until one day she showed up with a giant picture of Yellowstone River, two more of different landscapes. A Golden forest. A mountain range. She’d just stumbled upon them at a Goodwill for the same price as a pizza. And then she’d filled the bookcases that framed his desk with architectural books that would likely never be read and tiny fake plants, which he couldn’t kill. Those she’d claimed were found at a garage sale for the magical price of a gift card to her favorite nearby lunch spot. 

She would’ve decorated the office for her dad if he would’ve let her. Danny didn’t care though if she found the space so depressing when it came down to money. But Joel could not find it in him to tell her no when she looked so damn pleased with herself afterwards. She’d done such a nice job that he wished he could use the office more. One day he probably would when Sarah moved out. He had a love-hate relationship with being home alone. The quiet could be peaceful, then other times forlorn. 

After finishing up two supply lists for upcoming projects, Joel went to start on a third when his door jarred open with a soft knock. Teddy was hovering around the threshold with a file in one hand. 

“Are you busy?” 

Joel shook his head, shoving the folder aside then signaling her to come in. She stepped inside, nudging the door shut with her hip. It didn’t latch. No one else was here, otherwise he would’ve pointed it out. But he didn’t know why she shut it in the first place, honestly. 

“Sorry to bother you-” 

“You’re not bothering me,” he interrupted. “What can I do for you?” 

“It’s the Fox Ridge pitch.” She sauntered over to his desk, hips swaying and squeezed into a pair of black jeans. Her shirt was gaping open in the front from the top two buttons being left undone and wasn’t it just one earlier? It was always one, right? 

He realized it would’ve been easy to catch a peek of her bra when she bent over to hand him the file, but like a good person – like a good friend – he looked away. His gaze remained firmly fused to her face until she sat down in the chair across from him. 

She wanted his thoughts on the pitch, and he agreed to take a look. Based on the first page it looked perfect, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be much help. After all, she was the brains of the operation where he was just the muscle. 

“So, how was the wedding?” Joel flipped onto the next page without looking up. “Your cousin’s right?” 

“Good memory.” She hummed, sounding pleasantly surprised. Her nails clicked along the steel arm of the chair. “But yeah, the wedding was… it was nice.” 

“Was it?” Joel glanced up at her with a suspiciously quirked brow. “Cause, you ain’t gotta lie to me. I won’t tell.” 

She clicked her tongue as if her reluctant tone wasn’t what led him to such a conclusion.

“I’m not lying, it was really nice. A lot of family that I haven’t seen in a while was there. And my cousin has amazing taste, so the wedding was gorgeous. It was small and intimate, but.” She let out a big breath. “It’s just everyone except my dad and I had dates.” 

“Did you not bring your-” Too late, the words had poured out before he could think twice and he cursed his stupid, overly curious mind. He had no idea what to say to cover up his lapse, so he just didn’t. It just hung in the air and he turned to the next page without reading the last. 

“Bring my what, Joel?” Her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question. He peered up at her and she looked him directly in the eyes. It was as if she knew what he was going to say. It was as if she wanted him to ask. 

Joel screwed the blue pen into his grip. “I thought - I thought you had a boyfriend.” 

At that, she reclined back in the chair. She crossed her legs and tilted her head as if to study him. “What made you think I have a boyfriend?” she asked with such wild amusement that it confused him. 

Didn’t she? Tommy had seen the card, the flowers as well, so it wasn’t something he just made up in his head. She was or used to be dating someone. Oh – maybe it wasn’t a boyfriend, but a girlfriend. Not that he was about to ask. God no. He’d butted into her personal life enough for one night. 

“Well, you know.” Joel scratched the back of his head, then pointed in the direction of the break room. “There were those flowers, remember?” 

Her eyes widened – her lips parted. “Yeah, I remember. I just, I guess I didn’t think you would.” 

“Well, it ain’t everyday someone gets a garden delivered here.” He meant it as a joke, but it came off rather jealous. He tacked on a chuckle for good measure. She snorted, so it must’ve worked. 

“Okay fair. I was dating someone, but that’s over. Been over. We broke up like 4 months ago? So, not long after that, actually.” 

Joel grimaced. He could barely focus on her being single when he felt like shit. No one wanted to be reminded of their ex. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” She brushed off like it was no big deal. 

Still, he remained silent as the grave because what the hell was he supposed to say now? 

“I was the one who ended things, just in case that makes you feel better.” Of course she was. No one in their right mind would break up with someone as amazing as her. “But since we’re on the topic and all - what about you, Joel?” 

“What about me?” Joel finally met her eyes and her lips twisted into a mischievous smirk that made his stomach swoop. 

“Do you have anyone special in your life?”

Joel stiffly shook his head. “Can’t say I do.”  

“Anyone not special?” she nudged him, suggestively wiggling her brows. 

Again – a shake of his head. “I don’t really date.” 

“What a shame.” Her voice was almost husky, breathy. She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sure all the single mom’s at Sarah’s school are devastated.” 

Joel batted his hand in the air with an ugly snort. 

“What? I’m serious,” she said without twitching. Her eyes momentarily flickered towards his lips, and suddenly, his throat felt like the mostly burnt bagel he had for breakfast. “I bet you have all of them wrapped around your finger.” 

“You’re just - you’re just saying that.” 

“Am I?” Her voice was silky, even silkier than her shirt. There was a cool confidence radiating from her as her fingernails galloped in a slow rhythm along the arm rest. 

She was staring at him, pinning him against his seat. The hair on his thighs lifted and tickled the denim. The energy in the room had shifted, the air between them had bent and blurred into something that Joel could not quite describe. But he could feel it, sense it when it surged and rippled between them and sent an electric shiver up his spine. 

She licked her lips and rolled them together until they were shiny with her spit. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal trapped and he wanted to pounce over the desk and taste her spit. He nearly did until he felt a stirring in his jeans. 

What the hell was going on? What was he thinking? He needed to get his head screwed back on straight before he did something incredibly stupid. 

Joel shot from his chair like a firework. Abrupt and loud and white-hot. He turned away and towards the filing cabinets on the back wall. He didn’t have a plan, but there had to be something in there that he could pretend to need. 

She was quicker than his flustered brain and rose to her feet before he could make it past the edge of his desk. 

“Joel.”

It stopped him, his feet stuck to the floor like wet cement. She approached him like a frightened deer. Steady. So quiet. Her steps barely scratched against the cheap carpet. 

Joel realized now, right now was the time to speak. To say something. Anything. Find an excuse. Stop standing here like a dumb-struck baboon. But there was only one word that managed to leave his lips, a breath - 

“Teddy.” 

“It’s okay,” she whispered into the shrinking space between them. “I know.” 

I know? He had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but before he could ask – she cradled the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his. Joel’s eyes widened and all he could see was the soft planes of her face, her fluttering eyelids, the fan of her raven-stroke lashes. 

She was kissing him. Holy shit. She was actually kissing him. When he finally registered that, he closed his eyes and was overcome by the taste of her spit and a hint of Burt’s Bees chapstick, which he found oddly arousing. 

For a moment, he was too damn stunned to do anything but move his mouth along hers. Then, he realized his arms were hanging like spaghetti noodles at his side and reached out and clutched onto her waist. His thumbs delicately swirled the fabric of her shirt. So damn smooth, just as he expected. 

Joel gulped when she drew back, just far enough to meet his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck this was – let along if it was anything at all. Perhaps, this was it. Just a stolen kiss, late one night in his office. 

Joel braced himself for her to yank away, to tell him it was a mistake, that she didn’t know what she was thinking. Let’s forget the whole thing. 

But she didn’t. 

She just continued to toy with the curly ends of his hair, twirling them around her fingers as her other hand fisted the loose collar of his shirt. He was wedged between her warm-heaving body and his desk. The edge was slightly burrowing into his lower back, but currently he couldn’t care less. 

Her gaze dipped to where his jeans were painfully tented. A hot burst of shame ignited behind his earlobes. The flex of his fingers bit into the hollow below her ribs. 

“It’s - it’s been a while,” he found himself explaining because there was no good reason, at his age, to be this turned on from just kissing. 

“Do you want me to stop?” She slid up against him, sealing herself against his chest. It appeared she knew the answer before he could dumbly shake his head. 

This time – his lips met hers somewhere in the middle. Where the first kiss was gentle, testing the waters like the first sip of fresh coffee, this one was deeper. More intense – a whole gulp. Her urgent lips captured his starstruck mouth and right then he knew nothing, no one, would ever compare to this. Not even close. 

The way she kissed was like some special art form that only she could master. It felt so damn good to have her fingers molding through his hair with baby scratches over his scalp and the scent of her soap flooding his chest with heat. It consumed him, his body, his mind. The rapid pulse in his ears muted his every coherent thought.

When she gently nibbled on his bottom lip, he moaned – Teddy. She licked her name from his lips, then eagerly tasted it on his tongue as if she couldn’t get enough. 

And oh God – her tongue was equally as impressive as her other skills. The tip of it dragged over his top palate, making it tingle like a buzz off tequila. She stroked and swirled and twisted around his tongue as if knotting a cherry stem. No one had ever taken the time to explore him so thoroughly. Frankly, he didn’t know there was that much of his mouth to explore. 

Despite her exploration, Joel’s hands were burning into her waist, still holding her at 10 and 2 like a student driver. Like this was a chaperoned middle school dance. Slowly he roamed them down to grip her hips, but no further. He didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want to spoil this moment from something stupid like getting too greedy. 

Joel was fully okay with her in the driver seat. Even though he was usually in charge, he was happily letting her lead. Well, actually, he didn’t know if he was really letting her or if she just was. He didn’t care either way when she was touching him. 

She broke the kiss and her lips swerved to his cheek. His jaw, paying extra attention to the patch in his beard where no hair could grow. His head tipped back when she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and deeply inhaled. After a hard-days work he likely smelled of sweat instead of his soap, but she groaned anyway. 

“Have you ever thought about this before?” She breathed against his neck. 

“I mean, I-” He choked on his words as her tongue slicked over the thick vein beneath his jaw. “I - I tried not to.” 

“But you did.” He could feel her lips split into a grin before she sucked on a spot below his ear. He hoped it would leave a mark. The idea of seeing it tomorrow in the mirror made his cock twitch and throb and it ached. 

“Uh-huh,” he whimpered, rather pathetically. It actually sounded like it fucking hurt. 

“You know what?” She playfully nipped at the spot that would soon sadly fade. She then met his gaze with a coy grin. I thought about you too.” 

“You did?” he croaked. 

She hummed in response, her fingers trailing down his chest. His stomach quivered, his breath catching before she stopped just above the band of his jeans and whispered, “But unlike you - I didn’t try to stop.” 

Joel growled, unable to form a coherent thought. His brain was too preoccupied trying to process how any of this was happening. It had to be a dream or an optical illusion or some shit. No way it could be real. But her small hand cupped his cock and that certainly felt real. 

“Fuck - you feel even bigger than I imagined.” She palmed at his bulge with a light pressure. His knees nearly buckled despite the thick, denim barrier. 

Now, he was really wishing he jerked off last night – or anytime in the past week or so. God – he was pent up. It wouldn’t take much for him to break. 

“Can I see it?” 

Joel’s mouth went half-slack and she blinked at him without flinching. 

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. Not great, but at least coherent. 

She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his. Pretty. Pretty. So damn pretty. Those two undone buttons exposed the tops of her breasts, the peek of a plain white bra that he found sexier than he should’ve. 

His restless hands found solid ground on the desk behind him. Just in time as she balled the hem of his shirt in her tiny fists and bunched it towards his waist. The office air blew cool over his newly bare skin. 

Joel wondered how he compared to the type of guy she usually dated. Did she like meatheads with six packs? Or guys with scrawny arms? Or did she like them somewhere in the middle; someone more like him? His body used to be more solid in his 20’s, but softened with age. He was still strong though, still firm in most spots aside from his stomach. 

He caught himself sucking in as her wild eyes wandered over his husk-tan skin and across the dark scatter of hair around his navel. Then, she devoured it, mapping every inch with her wet, hot mouth. 

It was a miracle that he managed to stay upright under her attention. Any attention was new. He was not used to any teasing or foreplay or whatever delicious torture this was called. 

No. 

Joel was used to his own calloused hands. Quick, rough fucks with women who called him Joe or Jack or something else entirely because why did it matter if it meant nothing. 

But did this mean anything? To him, yes. To her – he had no clue. Dear God – he hoped so, though. 

With a smirk she unzipped his jeans and shoved them down by his knees. The wet spot on his boxers was impossible to miss. Of course, he’d worn light gray today instead of something discreet like black. 

“It’s been awhile,” he sheepishly reminded her. He didn’t want her to think he was always this big of a mess. Because he wasn’t. Seriously, he really wasn’t. 

“It’s alright, just relax.” She leaned forward and mouthed at the stain. 

But it was impossible to relax when her nose nudged the underside of his cock, her mouth was so close to the tip that every muscle in his body tightened. He gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring with the remnants of his dwindling self-control. 

She must’ve realized she was ruining him because she pulled back with a wicked grin. She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and tugged. His freed cock nearly smacked her in the face. The flush red tip was weeping. 

“Shit, you’re thick,” she gasped. Women had told him that before, but he much preferred hearing it from her. The sweet honesty in her voice, the clear surprise. It stroked his ego and filled him with a strange sense of pride as if he’d actually accomplished anything profound, and not just good genetics. 

She licked and spit into her palm before stroking his cock with a loose fist from root to tip. Her thumb swiped over the blunt head, smearing his pre-come and making his hips jerk and involuntary spasm. 

Joel opened his mouth to apologize, but was quickly silenced by her tongue: warm, wet, the slightly rough texture tracing over the thick vein that ran down his length. 

He gripped the desk until his knuckles bleached. She placed her free hand on his hip as if to help steady him before guiding him between her perfect, plush lips. Just the tip, at first. But it still was nearly enough to finish him. He didn’t remember the last time someone put their mouth on him. 

Joel desperately wished to witness this moment. He wanted to memorize the glossy gleam in her eyes, the way she looked in front of him and on her knees and how her mouth stretched perfectly around his cock. But it was too much. The weight between his thighs was becoming oppressive. If he watched, he’d shatter. And he’d be horrified if he finished that fast. 

So, he focused on the ceiling tiles instead. On the black specks that formed different shapes as she took another inch of him into her feverish mouth. 

Already, she had him panting like a dog. Unable to fully catch his breath even when she released his cock with a loud pop. She continued to pleasure him with long strokes of her fist. Her tongue dipped into his leaking slit, lighting up nerve endings that he didn’t know existed. It ripped an ungodly sound from his mouth. 

“Oh, you liked that?” she asked, very smug. Then repeated the movement once, twice, before eagerly swallowing his cock again. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hand flew to her shoulder and squeezed as she took him deeper – deeper. Holy shit. Where did she learn to do this? This was like pornstar level good. 

She had taken him halfway down her throat when he felt a shock run across his spine, a familiar tugging in his balls. His release was building and brewing in his lower belly like a thunderstorm. 

But Joel clenched his teeth. No – he could not come. Not yet. He needed to get himself under control before he finished in less than five minutes. 

He shut his eyes, but not even the rumble of his eardrums could drown out the loud, lewd squelch of her mouth. It was fucking filthy. The swirl of her expert tongue around his shaft had him unraveling fast like a loose spool of thread. 

“Teddy,” he moaned her name as he got close – too damn close. 

He tried to tell her to slow down, but the words stuck in his throat. Nothing came out except grunts. Just short groans. Her lips kissed the cusp of her fist, completely engulfing him in her honey-slobber and the softness of her hand. 

His hips instinctively bucked, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat and she gagged. The walls of her inner mouth shuddered and pulsed around him and – 

“Shit.” His eyes flew open but before he could warn her – she hollowed her cheeks and sucked. 

He groaned her name, low and unrestrained, as the pleasure electrified his spine. It arced down his thighs before he could push her off. For a moment, he lost himself in the high, in the tide of her mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed on her tongue as he came. 

Hard. 

As if he hadn’t come in months – years. 

In a daze, he blinked down at her and saw his cum dripping down her chin, leaking from the corners of her mouth as she continued to twist her fist and suck down the aftershocks. It would’ve been easily the most erotic sight, if it didn’t suddenly hit him how fast he came. 

The light-headed euphoria quickly morphed into vertigo. He was horrified, mortified, staring down at her. 

He didn’t know what to say, and for once, it seemed like neither did she. She released his cock from her mouth, but otherwise didn’t move. Not even to wipe the come off her face. 

She swallowed, and opened her mouth. But a familiar ding tore through the thick, sticky air. The bell above the front door. 

“Joel? Teddy?” 

No way. It was motherfucking Tommy. 

—-

The idiot had forgotten his house keys in Joel’s truck. In the cupholder, nonetheless. 

Joel had somehow managed to button his jeans, and hand her a tissue before Tommy busted into his office. She’d pretend to blow her nose to clean the come off her face, riddling him with another level of shame. So embarrassed that he could barely look at her without feeling like he swallowed a handful of nails. 

He threw Tommy the car keys to get rid of him, but found out that Aaron had  left. Tommy had told him that Joel could just drive him home without even asking. And usually it wouldn’t be a big deal. 

But Tommy was so goddamn clueless. He just swung around the door frame, blabbering about how the girlfriend showed up and there was a big blow up in the parking lot and Joel was just waiting for him to notice the smell of sex and sweat or even the cloying embarrassment. Or Teddy’s swollen and suck-plump lips and surely Joel looked like a flushed-beet wreck. 

So how did Tommy seem to remain completely oblivious? 

When Sarah called a few minutes later, Joel left. Well, first he made sure everything was locked up and she was safely in her car, but otherwise fled like a coward. 

The shop had officially disappeared from his rear view mirror and now Joel couldn’t remember if he even told her goodbye. She just gave him the best blow job of his life, and he couldn’t even wave? 

“Are you gonna get Sarah or drop me off first?” Tommy asked and Joel snapped at him like a venus fly trap. 

“Doesn’t really make sense to go out of my way just to drop you off first, now does it?” 

Tommy threw up his hands. “Well, fuck. How am I supposed to know where Sarah’s friend lives?” He hurled himself against the passenger seat and mumbled under his breath, “Asshole.” 

Joel winced. He was kinda being an asshole, taking out his anger on Tommy. He wasn’t even mad at Tommy. Annoyed, yes, but not mad. The only person Joel was mad at here was himself. 

He was mad at himself for cumming too fast, and even more so for running away afterwards like a scared hound with his soft, spent cock tucked between his legs. Recalling the complete shit show, Joel’s grip coiled around the steering wheel until the leather squealed in protest. He could still feel the ring of her spit drying around him. 

Joel sighed and stared out the windshield at the night sky, the truck bouncing along the uneven back road full of potholes. Why did it feel like he just fucked everything up? 

“Hey, are you alright?” Tommy’s voice was lower, quiet – concerned. 

Joel scratched at his jaw, at the bald patch she’d kissed, before nodding his head. 

“Yeah, sorry - I’m just tired.” He’d rather die and be reincarnated into a gnat than tell Tommy about how he just prematurely ejaculated. He’d had enough embarrassment for one night. 

“Did I-” Tommy paused and for a moment it seemed like he decided to keep his mouth shut. Until he sighed. “I don’t know, but did I interrupt something between you and Teddy?” 

A little too late to start being observant, Tommy. 

Joel approached a red light, the truck crawling to a complete stop. 

“Come on. What would be going on between us that you could interrupt?” Joel looked over at Tommy and his brows were furrowed. In the pool of orange light from the street lamps that speckled the cab, Joel saw the realization flash across Tommy’s face. The moment everything clicked into place. 

Joel abruptly turned away, not in the mood for pity. After what felt like forever, the light finally turned green. 

“Joel, I didn’t realize that you-” 

“Don’t.” His voice was quiet, stern without being rude. “Just don’t.” 

For once, Tommy didn’t demand to have the last word. Instead, he slowly and silently fell back into the seat as if to fade into the shadows. She still had a boyfriend as far as Tommy knew, and Joel would not be informing him otherwise. This way was easier. 

The rest of the drive was filled with Willie Nelson’s album Always on My Mind, the rumble of the engine, and the buzzing of Joel’s thoughts. 

How was he supposed to face her tomorrow? 

—-

On Friday morning, Joel drove to the shop with a terrible pit in his stomach. His eyes felt gritty, and there was a dark shadow of gray underneath from a restless night sleep. He ate a bland piece of toast for breakfast, and even that made him feel sick. When he turned onto the street, he thought it might reappear all over the windshield. 

But Teddy was not there. Just a pink post-it note on the full, freshly brewed coffee pot. 

Fox Ridge pitch - Wish me luck. 

He’d forgotten that it was this early. Joel supposed he’d have to get here on time this evening to see her. 

Joel spent the day trying not to go insane. Despite the pounding of his hammer, memories of last night beat against his skull. Anytime he touched his lips, or the spot behind his ear, he could practically feel the ghost of her kisses. They had been desperate, heated. Hadn’t they? It had seemed she’d wanted him, just as much as he’d always wanted her. She’d even admitted to imagining him in some sexual way. 

But what about now? 

He didn’t have a clue. 

Eight hours later, and halfway from a complete tailspin, the truck decided not to start. The engine clicked and clicked and clicked, but never went. Even though he begged for it to start. The concrete guys had tried to jump it with no success. It’d taken everything in him not to sock Tommy in the jaw when he gave him that told-you-so look while calling a tow truck. 

The concrete guys were still on their best behavior and gave them a ride to the mechanic shop. It was run by one of Tommy’s highschool friends, Zach, who was nice enough to stick around past 5 on a Friday night. 

5:25 and this was a fucking nightmare. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to die. As if he hadn’t fucked up enough last night when he bolted, the last thing Joel wanted as her thinking that he was avoiding her. The least he could do was extend the same courtesy she had this morning. 

So midway through Tommy and Zach examining what was under the hood, he broke away to call her. 

Joel slapped his cellphone against the flat of his palm as he headed outside the entrance. With a deep breath he dialed the shop’s number. The ring-ring-ring in his ears made his chest feel like it was about to explode. 

“Teddy’s Company, how can I help you?”

“Hey Teddy.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Joel,” he said, very awkwardly. 

“Hey! Hi. What’s up?” 

Joel kicked at the loose rocks by his feet. “Well, the truck - uh the truck’s acting up. We had to get a tow, and Tommy and I are - the mechanic’s checking it over right now.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah, so I just wanted you to know - I don’t know when we’ll get back to the shop.” Joel lightly hit the center of his head with the circle of his clenched fist. He sounded like an idiot. 

“No - yeah. That makes sense.” Silence crackled on the other line and it was unbearable. 

Joel scratched his temple, unsure what to say next. He wanted to talk about last night, just to get it over with, but it wasn’t the right time. That was not a conversation to have over the phone. Not like at work was much better, but still. 

“Well,” Teddy broke the silence. There was a rustling of something on the other line – papers? Her bag? “Do you need-” 

There was a massive boom behind him – Tommy pounded on the glass door and motioned him inside. 

“What was that?” she asked and Joel mouthed at Tommy to give him a second. 

“Sorry, it’s Tommy. I think the mechanic’s done with the inspection.”

“Okay - well, I was just gonna ask if you guys-” 

Tommy banged again – harder. It was Friday, so he probably had a date with his favorite dive bar. Joel glared at him and flipped him off. 

“It sounds like you need to go,” she said. 

“Sorry.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and he was gonna kill Tommy. “But uh - have a nice weekend, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you too, Joel.” 

Once Joel found out the battery just needed to be replaced, Tommy’s pissy mood made a lot more sense. It would be a decently fast and easy fix – at most an hour. 

Joel plopped down in a chair in the lobby and mindlessly flipped through a car magazine. He didn’t even register the pictures that swished by, too busy reeling from that awkward phone call. 

Had he really told her to have a nice weekend? He wanted to melt into the cracks and scuffs in the black-and-white tiles. Real smooth, Joel. He sucked at this shit. 

What was going to happen next? 

He couldn’t tell where her head was at from the phone call that somehow didn’t even last as long as him last night. God – she probably thought he had some type of erectile dysfunction and he couldn’t even blame her. There was no excuse for a man at his age to cum that fast from a blow job, nonetheless. He was not a fucking teenager. 

The longer he sat there in the empty lobby with the melancholy of Johnny Cash’s voice, the more he began to doubt. It spread and swelled in his lower abdomen like a virus. Syphilis. If it festered for too long, he felt like it might turn him insane. 

He didn’t know how he would survive the weekend like this. 

— 

Saturday was usually his day for relaxing. All his responsibilities could wait until Sunday, but he couldn’t sit still. 

Up early, he and Sarah went to the Farmer’s Market and ran errands until lunch time. He deep cleaned the house in the afternoon. The entire main floor was vacuumed and swept, the kitchen counters looked brand new, and even his bed was freshly made with dryer warm sheets. He was determined to keep busy instead of wallowing in his looming conversation with Teddy. 

It might’ve worked if Sarah didn’t innocently keep bringing her up. With homecoming tonight, she was apparently in the mood to reminisce, especially after she’d gotten all dolled up. 

They were halfway to her friend Ashley’s house and the drive had been filled with Teddy. Their mall trip – the dress – the tiny details Teddy helped pick out. 

“I brought my polaroid camera.” Sarah pointed at her overnight bag in the backseat of his truck. “So, you can take a photo of me and show Teddy on Monday.” 

“Oh, yeah. She’ll like that.” Joel forced a smile as the hand of his knee flexed, biting into denim. 

He couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time Sarah mentioned her. Teddy would never cut Sarah out, he knew that, but things were bound to be different now. It couldn’t go back to what it used to be, not after she’d seen his cock and swallowed his come. The relationship would inevitably change between them. 

He just hoped their friendship could be somewhat salvaged. For Sarah’s sake, especially. 

Joel was able to push that out of his mind when they arrived at Ashley’s house. The Murphy’s had been nice enough to invite the entire group, including parents, to come over and take photos. He couldn’t imagine fitting 14 teenagers and their moms in his puny backyard where he could barely fit a playset. Luckily, the Murphy’s lived on a big, well-landscaped lot that backed up against a man-made lake, and not directly into a neighbor’s house. 

The few other dad’s who showed up were all huddled together under the covered patio with their eyes transfixed on the TV screen. The Longhorns were taking on the Wildcats. Still in the first quarter, so it wasn’t even a good game yet. 

Instead of cracking open a beer, Joel joined the mom’s by the rose bushes. 

“Oh my God, Joel. Sarah looks beautiful.”

“She’s gorgeous.” 

“Stunning.” 

They all complimented Joel as if his genes actually put up a fight. Sarah was Lisa’s exact twin. Even more so when her gorgeous thick curls were pulled back into a loose bun with a few loose strands framing her face. The mom’s were right though – Sarah did look beautiful. But then again, she always did; with or without all the glitter and make-up. 

Sarah’s date was a scrawny, soccer player with red hair who was her best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Eric. Joel could hardly believe his daughter was at an age to even have a date, even if it was just a set up. It made him feel incredibly old when the kid called him sir. 

Based on first impressions, Eric seemed nice enough. The kid took a few photos of Joel and Sarah together in front of the Mexican bush sage. The purple flowers were almost an exact match to Sarah’s dress. Joel had hoped that somebody would offer when he’d changed out of his dusty clothes earlier and into a different, slightly nicer white t-shirt and a pair of his best dark wash jeans. 

Still, while Joel wouldn’t threaten the kid with a fist or scare the shit out of him with a war story like Tommy would, Joel did give Eric the look – Don’t try anything, bud. When Joel shook his hand, it felt like wet paint. 

Good. 

Joel thanked the minivan moms for driving, Ashley’s mom for hosting the sleepover afterwards, while snapping enough pictures to fill up two of Sarah’s bulletin boards. 

“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he told Sarah one more time before hugging her goodbye. 

She promised to be good and handed him the developed Polaroid, specifically for Teddy. He stashed it safely away in the middle console of his truck then drove away. 

At home, an empty living room quietly greeted him. Not yet 6 P.M. – the sun continued to shine and slice through the curtains onto the beige carpet. Joel had no idea what to do with the rest of his evening. Football, he supposed. Maybe rent a movie – Ocean’s Eleven or Training Day, something Sarah had no interest in ever seeing. 

He whipped up a ham and cheese sandwich and cracked open a beer. Rather than eating alone at the dining room table, he set up on the couch and ate in the company of Longhorn football. 

It didn’t take long, not even halfway finished with his sandwich, before a Folgers commercial came on and he thought about Teddy. She never even used Folgers, but just coffee in general made him think of her. At this point, it was actually pathetic how everything reminded him of her.

For a few minutes, Joel debated on calling her and figuring this shit out already. This limbo was killing him. He even pulled out his phone from his back pocket, found her name in his contact list and let it taunt him, his thumb hovering over the call button for longer than he’d like to admit. 

But what would he say if she answered? 

It had been two days and he still had no clue. He was still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole situation. He wanted to handle it with care but it felt like holding a dandelion puff in his rough calloused hands. Inevitably, it would break and fall apart with something as simple as a gust of wind. Joel carelessly tossed his phone on the coffee table and groaned. 

At halftime, he went and cleaned off his empty plate in the sink. Using his hands always helped distract him. Maybe he needed a hobby. He could always play his guitar, finally learn Never Going Back Again. He’d always wanted to try out woodworking since it used to be his dad’s favorite pastime. 

Joel was drying off the dish when the doorbell rang. 

“Hold on,” he yelled, wiping off his hands with the rag. He didn’t know who that could be, but he’d bet everything in his wallet right now it was Tommy. He knew Sarah would be gone all night, and probably wanted to drag Joel to some bar across town for a wild night out. 

Joel was coming around to the idea of spending his night in a smoky, loud bar instead of cooped up in his house when he opened the door. It was definitely not his brother, not even close. 

“Teddy.” 

She was on his front porch in a pale blue sundress that instantly made his mouth water. The buttery light from the budding sunset sky behind her framed her silhouette. 

“Sorry to just stop by.” She smoothed down her dress and tugged at the hem. “But can I come in?” 

—-

She didn’t say why she was here when he let her inside, but he supposed she didn’t have to. 

It was actually Joel who broke the silence. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. His mom would lurch from her grave if he didn’t act like a good host. 

“Water,” she said with a small smile. “Tap’s fine.” 

It was a good thing she didn’t follow him into the kitchen. His hands were shaking so bad that he nearly dropped the glass on the tile floor. 

When he came back into the living room, she was sitting on the couch. He handed her the glass, his fingertips brushing over hers. She politely thanked him before taking a tentative sip. The cushion whined under his weight when he sat. These were the exact same spots from the night she was here with Sarah. This time, however, the empty cushion felt less like a safety net and more like a boulder about to crush him. 

He turned off the TV, the newfound silence giving further evidence of what happened the other night. 

She clinked the glass onto the coffee table, then clasped her hands stiffly in her lap. On the very edge of her seat, she looked ready to bolt at any moment. “I knew Sarah would be at the dance or, at least dinner.” 

“Yeah, dinner. I think the dance starts around 8,” he said and she nodded. He wished he would’ve remembered to bring the Polaroid inside. Maybe it would’ve helped ease the tension. 

But no – he needed to quit procrastinating and apologize for how he reacted the other night. 

Buck up – do it. 

For a moment, Joel searched for what to say, scratching the skin around his neck where it felt thickest. 

“Joel,” Teddy said before he could speak. She shifted in her seat and when she opened her mouth, he braced himself for her to call it nothing but a mistake. “I wanted to come by and apologize about the other night.” 

His brows furrowed. 

“Apologize?” 

“Yes, Joel,” she answered, very sternly. He noticed a pained look in her eyes before she stared down at her stark white tennis shoes. 

“What? I - what?” He sounded like a bumbling drunk and for once, he wished the right words would just come naturally to him. 

She sighed. 

“After our phone call yesterday,” she started, only stopping for a split-second to clasp her gold necklace between her fingers. “I feel like I might’ve pushed things too far the other night. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable-” 

“Uncomfortable? No. Shit.” Joel insistently shook his head. He would personally damn himself to hell if he sat here any longer and let her take any blame for this. Exhaling, he scruffed a hand over his jaw. “Look, I’ll admit - I panicked, but that ain’t on you.” 

“How is it not?” 

“Cause you did nothing wrong. Fuck. I’m the one who should be apologizing, alright? I acted like a goddamn idiot, Teddy. It’s just-” Joel let out a self-deprecating laugh, bashfully tucking his chin towards his chest. “I don’t usually, ya know - that fast. Just got embarrassed, that's all.” 

He absently rubbed at a patch of distressed leather on the arm of the couch. 

“Well, I never wanted to make you feel embarrassed.” She scooted closer – closer. Slowly. For what felt like the first time since the night in his office, Joel properly met her eyes. “All I wanted was to make you feel good, Joel.” Her voice was husky, almost seductive. She smirked and his heart banged inside his chest like a caged feral cat. 

“You did make me feel good,” he admitted, rather shyly. “Just wish I could’ve made you feel good, too.”  

“Who says you can’t?” Her eyes darted across his face, to his lips, to the rise and fall of his chest. She gripped his shoulders for balance before swinging her legs over him. Her knee lightly bumped into the arm of the couch and his hands instantly went to her hips, helping to steady her on his lap. 

Joel stared up at her dumbly for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. His thumbs toyed with the hem of her dress, bunching it up further until he could brush over the bare flesh of her thighs. Goddamn, she was so soft. So pretty. 

“What do you want, Joel?” 

Everything. “Whatever you’ll give me.” 

“No, Joel. What do you want?” 

The last two days – hell, the last two years bulldozed into him. Every feeling and thought he’d suppressed and ignored crashing into him like a wrecking ball. He’d spent so long convincing himself this would never happen, but now – everything he ever wanted and never thought he would have was right here. Right in his lap. 

And something inside him suddenly snapped. 

“You gotta know by now, Teddy. You gotta know.” The words spilled out of his mouth and he hated how it sounded. It didn’t make any sense. Joel shook his head and ran his hands down her thighs to lightly squeeze at the spot above her knees for stability. “Fuck, I ain’t any good at this shit,” he said, in a rare moment of vulnerability. 

She cupped his face so delicately like he was made of porcelain. With a small nudge, he met her gaze. 

“This is gonna sound very middle school, but do you like me, Joel?” she asked and he snorted. 

It did sound juvenile, but he instinctively tugged her closer and nodded his head. 

“Good. Cause I like you and I want you, Joel. Only you,” she said. “So what do you say? Wanna give this a shot?” 

“You fucking know I do.” His hand slid behind her neck, his thumb traced over the perfect curve of her hair line. “Now, come here.” 

When his lips met hers – it was desperate and sweet like cream soda. His mouth crashed against hers with every bottled up dream and fantasy of her mouth, her lips, her tongue. It surged hot and bright through him. 

His hand was a firm weight on the small of her back as he pulled her in as close as humanly possible, until only denim and a dainty sundress could separate him from her. 

She clutched onto his shirt collar before gently rocking her hips against his growing bulge. He tensed his thigh, catching on her panties. She whimpered, already so sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to learn all the sounds she made. 

He couldn’t fuck her on the couch, though. Not properly, at least. Definitely not like he wanted to or how she deserved. Still, he let himself enjoy this for a few minutes. Dry humping like teenagers in her parent’s basement before breaking the kiss with a soft peck to her top lip. 

“Would you wanna go upstairs?” He dragged the back of his hand over her thigh, his knuckles hiking up her dress to reveal a little more skin. 

“Oooh. Am I finally gonna see Joel Miller’s room?” She gave the tip of his nose a quick kiss before crawling off of him. 

She held his hands the entire way upstairs until he led her into his room. “Told you, you weren’t missing much.” 

“I don’t know about that.” She glanced at the navy blue walls, at the painting of a grazing deer in what appeared to be somewhere in Montana. It hung above his golden oak headboard. She pointed at the basic beige comforter, three pillows lined up against the frame. “I’m gonna be honest, though, I didn’t take you for the type to make your bed.” 

“I did a little cleaning today.” Joel shrugged as she kicked off her shoes by his laundry basket. 

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” 

Joel managed to only kiss her twice before getting on the bed. He scooted into the middle, using two pillows to prop and cushion his aging lower back. Again, she eagerly climbed over him. She yanked her dress over her head, leaving her in only a lacy black bra with a pair of matching panties that cut high on her hips. The tiny, pink flower on the waistband was just the cherry on top. 

She must’ve noticed the look on his face because she giggled as if she was completely innocent. “Do you like it? I wore it for you.” 

“Fuck me,” he murmured. “Look at you, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” His hands roamed from her ribs up to paw at her bra and he squeezed just hard enough to watch them pour out over the top. He growled from deep in his chest before shoving his face in between her breasts. He traced the lacy material with his tongue before kissing along his slick trail. “Can I take it off?” 

Smirking, she reached behind her and unclipped it for him. The bra joined her dress on the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips and admired her bare skin – the curves of her body in the coppery-golden glow from the sunset spilling in from the window. When he cupped her breasts, he swore they were made for his hands. His thumbs slid across her sensitive peaks, feather-light, but her breath still hitched – her head tip back and even the column of her neck was gorgeous. 

He replaced one of his thumbs with his tongue, flicking the tip of it over her nub again and again. Kitten licks that made her clutch the back of his head. The way her fingers rooted into his hair was almost possessive and she held him flush against her chest as he sucked her nipple into his needy mouth. 

Her breathing grew ragged and she tried to find friction. She rutted against him, but his hands captured her hips, holding her still before she could graze his cock. Too much dry humping and he’d be actually come in his pants like a teenager. 

“Be patient, sweetheart,” he murmured and she whined. He didn’t allow her another chance to complain before his mouth switched to her other breast and adored it with equal attention. It’d been ages since he took his time like this and he lost himself in the feeling of her soft, scented skin on his face. 

“Joel,” she moaned. It was desperate and raw and hands down the most erotic sound he’d ever heard in his life. It snapped him from his reverie and he grazed his teeth once more over her spit-swollen bud. 

“I know.” He petted her hips before cupping her sex. The lace was soaked and sticky around her cunt. 

Her hips bucked into the flat edge of his palm and for a moment, he watched her shamelessly ride his hand. Her brows furrowed – her fingers clutching his shirt for support. He was suddenly aware that he was completely dressed, and he found it strangely erotic. A part of him enjoyed it, maybe a little too much. 

“Let me take care of you.” He patted her on the hip before ordering her to lay back. She didn’t need to be told twice. 

Joel moved, so she could take his spot in the center of the bed. He tore off his t-shirt and threw it with her clothes. She watched him with glossy, moon eyes as he crawled between her spread open thighs. He captured her lips in a tender kiss before swerving to the swell of her cheek and down the slope of her neck. Gently, he nipped at her collarbone and she wiggled impatiently. 

But he still went slow when dragging the tip of his nose from her breasts and along her stomach where he placed a soft kiss above her belly button. 

When he settled back on his knees, he saw her chest rising and falling. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth and she was fisting the comforter. It was hard to believe she was really here, even as his fingers stroked her thigh. She was actually in his bed in nothing but soaked black panties. 

Joel laid down on his stomach, spreading her thighs even wider to make room for his broad shoulders. Face-to-face with her lace covered cunt, he could smell the sweet, primal musk. 

He sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling nervous. He enjoyed going down on women, but it had been awhile since he did anything more than just enough to get someone wet enough to take him. And he really wanted this to be good. 

It felt like it had to be good, after his last fuck up. 

“Joel? Are you okay?” She brushed back a tuft of hair that had fallen flat on his face. 

He shut his eyes but there was no hiding when his face was mere inches from her pussy. “It’s just been awhile.” 

“Well, we don’t-”

“No. God - I want to.” Joel groaned and dejectedly dropped his head against her thigh. He kissed at a mark above her knee. Her skin felt so warm against the stubble of his cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” 

A moan dripped from her lips as he mouthed his way to the dip where her thighs met her hips. His nose nudging along the elastic seam. 

“I’m not usually like this, but fuck - I wanna make you feel good.” He sucked at the spot directly above that damn tiny pink rose and her hips lifted off the bed, almost chasing his mouth. “Want you to know I can take care of you.” 

“You can - you can,” she practically chanted. “Just God. Please, Joel.” 

“Okay, I got you. It’s okay,” he whispered before peeling off her panties. He lifted the flimsy to his nose and inhaled without thinking. She smelled so delicious, musky, like sea salt and jasmine. He lost himself in her womanly scent and stuffed the fabric into his mouth and oh God – the taste. Dully sweet, a citrusy-tang that tingled his tongue. He devoured it. 

It wasn’t until her panties were licked clean that he came up for air. His eyes opened to find her staring at him. Her mouth gaping – pupils carbon-black. 

With a shy smile, he tossed the panties, now soaked with his spit, behind him. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she panted. “Fuck, that was hot.” 

He snorted. 

“Well, you taste damn good, sweetheart,” he said, situating himself comfortably between her thighs. Now, there was nothing, not even skimpy lace separating them. She was completely hairless, which was actually a first for him. Joel didn’t have a personal preference, though he did like how easily he could see how turned on she was. Her entire sex was swollen and glossy and perfect. Licking his lips, he peered up at her. “I wanna make you feel good, so let me know if you don’t like something, alright?” 

She quickly nodded, her chest hitching with anticipation. She wanted this. She did.

He kissed the top of her mound then experimentally licked her slit, keeping his tongue soft and flat. He deliberately stopped just before her clit, avoiding it. For now. He planned to build her up slowly, steady. Words had never come easy to him, so instead he’d show her what he could not articulate. 

Despite his own painful desire, his focus remained solely on her as he lapped at her cunt: He teased and nibbled and sucked on her folds. Letting her little sounds and sighs guide him to find her most sensitive spots. He didn’t know what he’d been so worried about before. Eating pussy was just like riding a bike. 

“More,” she pleaded, and how could he deny her after she’d been so patient? 

Her back arched when the tip of his nose grazed her clit. He smirked against her cunt, the pit in his belly stoked by how worked up she was. It fueled his confidence and his tongue swiped over her clit. She wound her fingers through his hair and tugged. 

Hard. 

And Oh – that did something to him. His cock twitched, or at least, tried to. Pack so tightly against the seam of his jeans. Again – he swallowed the urge to hump the sheets for some relief, snubbing his own arousal for hers. 

As he toyed with her clit, his fingertips skimmed over her slick, hot-heated sex. The thick bulb of his pointer finger caught on her entrance and she immediately clenched, as if trying to capture him. Greedy little thing. 

Still, he peered up at her for permission that she happily granted. He started out with one finger and inched inside her until he could not physically go any further. He cursed under his breath. She was warm and soaked and so tight. 

When finally he squeezed in a second finger, her knees slightly bowed. Even though she was wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance, he rocked into her slowly, mindful to let her adjust. He curled his fingers, trying a few different angles before finding that spongy spot. 

Immediately, she jerked with a deep, filthy moan. 

Got it. 

His fingers worked just as relentlessly as his tongue that was circling and swirling and flicking her clit. So responsive. Her walls spasmed around him as he thrusted into her a little harder. A little faster.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was as shaky as her thighs. He could feel her starting to swell under his tongue. 

Joel didn’t want to stop, but he needed to see her come apart. When he leaned back on his knees, her hand shot out. She latched onto his forearm with a death grip. 

“Wait! Wait! Joel!” Her voice was high-pitched. Frantic. Her cunt clenched furiously around his fingers as if she could not bear to let them go. “I’m almost there. I swear, I’m close.” 

She bore down, attempting to fuck his hand as if she needed to prove she was telling the truth. Like he could do nothing but sit here, and she could get herself off. Joel felt something ugly and bitter twinge in his chest. It made him wonder how often she was left high and dry and unsatisfied by the people she fucked. 

Well, not anymore. Not with him. 

Once his hand lightly pressed on her abdomen, she stopped. Her gaze found his. Her eyes glossy and wild and fucked out. It looked like the only thought in her head was how badly she needed to come. 

“Don’t worry, I ain’t done with you, sweetheart,” he assured her as his hand on her stomach moved lower and lower. “Just wanna see you when I make you come for the first time.”

A filthy moan split her lips when he circled her clit with his thumb. The panic on her face was instantly replaced with relief. Pleasure. She looked gorgeous on the verge of an orgasm. 

“Does this pretty little pussy feel good?” 

“Yes - yes - don’t stop,” she cried out. “I’m so close.” 

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it.” And he could. “I got you.” 

She moaned his name as she came undone underneath him. Her arousal was dripping down his knuckles and onto his sheets. He caught himself grinding into the air, desperately wishing it was his cock instead of his fingers making her come. 

Her clit pulsed under the pad of his thumb like a beating heart. Insatiable, he sucked the taste of her off his fingers then wiped his mouth. 

She drew him down into a sloppy, wet kiss. The painful bulge in his jeans catching on her bare flesh. By some miracle, though he didn’t burst right then and there. 

She pawed at his bare shoulders. “I need you,” she murmured against his lips that were still buzzing with her wetness. “Please Joel, I want you.” 

“Greedy,” he mumbled, grinning against her cheek. He gave her hip a playful pinch before jumping onto his feet. 

Quickly, he shed his jeans along with his pre-come stained boxer briefs. His cock was heavy. The head swollen into a furious shade of red, closer to purple than pink. 

The light outside was starting to fade into gauzy, gray dusk. So, Joel flipped on the bedside lamp before pulling out a fresh box of condoms from the nightstand. He tore through the plastic wrapping with his teeth, but slowed down when opening the tin-foil packet. 

“How do you want me?” She asked as he securely rolled on the condom. 

Up? Down? He didn’t care. “Surprise me.” 

She shot him a mischievous smirk before flipping onto her stomach. Rising onto all fours. This woman. He had no idea what she would pick, but his first guess never would’ve been doggy. 

He admired the dream-like curve of her spine and she invitingly wiggled her ass. Seemed she was trying to give him a heart attack. Did she know how sexy she was to him? She had to. She had to know what she did to him. 

“Is this okay?” she asked, and Joel growled his approval. He climbed in behind her and palmed at the plump flesh of her ass. 

She opened herself wider until he could see everything. “Shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, marveling at where her sex glistened with his spit and her orgasm.

Joel had to squeeze at the base of his cock before dragging the tip through her slick folds, all the way up to her puckered hole. Even that felt good. Almost too good. And he wasn’t even inside her, yet. 

Once Joel was lined up with her entrance, he noticed how small her cunt looked next to him and didn’t even try to push in. He questioned whether or not he could fit. It was just a fact that he was thick. Even though she was soaked, this would be a tight squeeze. 

Fuck. Now, he was really regretting only using two fingers instead of three. 

“Joel” she whined, but he still didn’t move. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“No, I can take it - I promise,” she whimpered. “Joel, please.” She tilted back against him, making it impossible to say no. 

“Okay. Alright,” he said soothingly, calmly rubbing the arc of her hip. “I’ll go slow.” 

And he did. For both his and her sake, he inched into the heat of her cunt. His gaze was welded to the painted deer above the headboard. Watching himself disappear inside her would’ve been too much. The feeling of her pulsing around him was already almost too much for him to handle. Without the condom, this would’ve been over before it could even begin.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re big,” she choked out, her walls fluttering around him. “I need - I need a second.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yeah – he needed one too. 

There was a long minute where the only sounds in the room were of his harsh breaths, her suppressed whimpers. Then, a slight creak of the bed. 

He leaned forward, his chest lightly pressed against her back. His arms caged in around hers, palms flat on the bed to help support his own weight as he draped over her body. 

“You feel so good.” His lips brushed over the top of her spine and she shivered. “I know it’s a lot. I want you to know it’s a lot for me too.” 

“Oh, Joel,” she mewled as he buried his face into her neck. She smelled and tasted just like salted caramel. 

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. So good.” He kissed behind her ear, along the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move now, alright?” 

“Please.” The word dripped from her lips – the only answer he needed. 

He stayed close to her, his breath puffing against her neck as he fucked into her. Nice and slow and tender, at first. She met his thrusts in perfect sync. Each one allowing him deeper and deeper inside her and he didn’t even know how that was possible. It was as if her pussy was molding to fit him, to take even more of him. It felt very intimate and overwhelming.

He thought if he was staring into her eyes that he might’ve cried. Sex had never felt like this before. Not with Lisa, not even when they accidentally made Sarah. If he was being honest, sex had always felt somewhat impersonal; stilted, distant, like a glory hole in a gas station, just minus the sketchy bathroom wall.

But here, right now with her – this felt sacred. He had no clue how he ever managed to live without this. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” Joel laid his damp forehead between her shoulder blades and picked up the pace. 

“Joel.” She gasped. His name seemed to be the only word she could say. It was as if he had completely consumed her. Her mind. Her body. Her every neuron. He kissed each vertebrae within reach, claiming more of her. 

More. 

“So damn long,” he answered. “And so fucking bad. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and look at you now, sweetheart. Just taking it. So good, just like I knew you would.” 

“Oh God, Joel.” 

He felt her shake, her arms appeared ready to give out and collapse. He wouldn’t let that happen. So, he widened his stance, the comforter bunching up around his knees. Carefully, but without warning, he fully pulled out and she wailed like it physically hurt. 

“I got you.” He shushed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and sealing her to his chest. “Come on, come here.” He guided her upright along with him and she groaned once the weight was off her arms. 

She sank back down on his cock instantly, her ass flush against his thighs. He felt even closer to her, somehow, in this position. Her skin was on fire, the sweat making her back stick to him like gum. Her pussy was drenched and dripping down his balls. 

He could feel her all over him. Everywhere. It amazed him how he managed to last this long.

Joel gripped her hip, his other hand went to cup her breast. When he gently rocked forward at the perfect angle, she clenched. 

“Goddamn.” He squeezed her breast, continuing to hit that same spot. “How are you so tight?” 

“It’s you, Joel.” She gasped. “No one - no one has ever been this deep.” 

The dormant, possessive part of his brain lit up and he growled. Joel buried himself to the hilt, until he could not claim another inch. No one but him had ever touched her here. 

Just him. 

Just him. 

Only him. 

His. 

She was soaking wet, white-hot, and he could feel himself throbbing inside her. Joel wanted to come so badly. The spicy-musk of her skin was swirling in his lower belly with a powerful, burning heat. On the brink of bursting. 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He pinched her nipple as his other hand went down to play with her clit. “I wanna make you come.” 

Her only response came in a whine, a frantic nod.

Joel thrusted into her with long, deep strokes that made the bed shake. The headboard hit the wall in a dull, rhythmic thud that filled the room. Just like her trembling, needy moans, his own low groans, and the heady-salt scent of sex. 

She threaded her fingers into his hair and haled his mouth toward hers. She kissed him, or more so, tried to. It was more of just lips devouring whatever was within reach: cheeks and chin and the curve of mouths. It wasn’t the best angle, but it didn’t matter. 

In this moment, nothing else mattered to him but her. 

Despite the tightness in his balls, Joel somehow held back his release. He gritted his teeth, burrowed his face into her neck, and quickly rubbed her clit. The high-pitched sound of his name lingered on her swollen lips as her walls squeezed around him like a fist. 

It wasn’t until her cunt was spasming around him that he finally drove forward. He was buried so deep inside her that he practically snarled when he came. 

He spilled into the condom, but pretended to be filling her up instead. He would watch his cum drool out of her, only to stuff it all back in with his fingers. 

Joel clutched her against him as his hips gave a few final jerks. He would have liked to stay inside her until he went completely soft, but the condom was overflowing. Cum or her slick or more likely a mix of both was soaking into the hair between his thighs. He decided not to test the durability of this specific condom brand. The last time he did that, well – it was obvious how that turned out. 

Holding the condom at the base, he slipped out of her and dropped onto his ass with a few pops and cracks. Damn, he really should stretch more.

His eyes fell to where her legs were spread and her sex was still gaping from him – for him. His mouth went dry. He wanted to lean over and quench his thirst, fill her with his tongu- 

“What’re you lookin’ at there?” The sound of her lilted voice made his gaze abruptly snap to her face. 

He must’ve been blushing because her lips split into a smug grin. Clearly, she knew what caught his attention. But even after two orgasms, she was still a little sassy. Still too damn perceptive for her own good, meanwhile he could barely form a coherent sentence. 

She straddled his thighs, careful to avoid his semi-soft cock. 

“It’s okay, you can look. I mean, it’s yours now, isn’t it?” Her soft, small voice cut through the post-sex fog in his brain. She was looking so vulnerable, so exposed, completely naked in his lap. Even he was more covered up than her, and all he had covering him was a flimsy, full condom that he had not yet found the energy to get up and throw away. 

Isn’t it? Joel got the sense it was not a genuine question, but more of a reiteration – a confirmation. Are we on the same page? 

Whatever she meant, he nodded his head. 

“It is.” He cradled her cheek. “But only if it comes with the rest of you. I’m a greedy man, sweetheart. I want it all.” 

She beamed at him. 

“Well, that makes two of us,” she declared while brushing a sweaty tuft of his hair out of his face. “I want everything you come with, Joel. And when I say everything - I mean everything. The whole package.” 

She might’ve not said Sarah’s name, but he knew that’s what she meant. 

His lips parted, amazed by how easily the words came out of her mouth. That was the first time a woman had ever acknowledged that he came as a two-for-one deal without even a hint of cynicism in their tone. Obviously, Joel realized a kid was a lot to take on. Especially since Lisa wasn’t in the picture at all, but there were some women who made it sound like Sarah was baggage, which was insane. Sarah was the best part of him. 

Speechless, Joel kissed her firmly on the mouth. It was warm and sweet and surging through his chest like an electric current. This is what it was supposed to be like. He could feel her lips break into a smile before he pulled away. 

“Stay here. Let me get you cleaned up.” 

She laid back on the bed without argument, and he disappeared into the bathroom. Joel stuffed the condom into the tin-foil wrapper, then buried it under wads of tissues and empty toilet paper rolls at the bottom of the trash can, just in case Sarah used his bathroom. He didn’t want her to see that. 

After cleaning himself up, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. She looked pleasantly surprised, a little shocked. Wordlessly, she parted her legs with enough space for him to fit. 

“Such a gentleman,” she finally said after he gently wiped down her thighs. 

“Maybe.” He moved over her tender, swollen folders with even more caution. “Or maybe I just wanted to get a closer look.” 

He winked and she giggled. 

“You had your face buried down there like twenty minutes ago - don’t think you can get much closer than that.” 

True. Joel snorted and tossed the washcloth into his laundry hamper. He went over to his dresser and dug out an old, oversized t-shirt from the bottom of his drawer.

“Caught this at a Longhorns game from one of those t-shirt cannons,” he said when handing her the folded shirt with her panties on top. 

“Ooooooh impressive.” She playfully wiggled her brows, just slightly taunting him. He didn’t expect anything less. 

His boxers from earlier were still damp, so he put on a fresh pair. 

“So, what time are you picking Sarah up?” she asked, seemingly waiting to bring up his kid until he wasn't butt-ass naked. 

“Actually, she’s staying at her friend’s house tonight.” 

“Well, that’s interesting.” 

Joel hummed his response. He was grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the closet when suddenly the home phone on the nightstand lit up, ringing. Only solicitors called that phone, anymore – shit, his cellphone was downstairs. 

He would’ve ignored it, but what if it was Sarah? 

Joel raced to the phone with his pants still clutched in his hand. Once he saw the caller ID, he groaned.

“It’s Tommy.” 

She nodded for him to answer, and so he did. Very reluctantly. “Hello?” Joel swore if Tommy was in jail again, he was going to let him rot there until next week. 

“Hey there, Joel.” Definitely not jail – too happy. “What’s going on?” 

“Uh,” Joel paused and looked at his bed where Teddy was laying in only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. What a beautiful sight. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself; Tommy wouldn’t believe him even if he told the truth. Joel tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could put on his pants. “Nothing.” 

Teddy grinned at him like they were teenagers lying to their parents. 

“Nothing? Huh?” Tommy snorted. “Then what’s Teddy’s car doing in your driveway?” 

Oh no. 

Joel nearly tripped over his pant leg on his way to the window. The street lights were on, but the sky was still a light enough blue where he could clearly see Tommy standing in the driveway, waving with a classic little brother grin on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I was coming by to drag your ass out and wait - are you fucking shirtless?” 

Joel cursed, backing away from the window like it burned him. The cover was blown and he hoped Teddy didn’t mind, but it wasn’t his fault that his brother came over uninvited. He looked at her and she was just smiling, appearing wildly amused. 

She shrugged, then yelled. “Hi Tommy.” 

Tommy howled in his ear, loud enough that he could hear it through the glass. She immediately burst out laughing, no longer having to hide. Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t even be annoyed or mad. Not right now. 

“You dirty dog.” 

Fucking Tommy. 

[zirconika]

nine lives of a thief

ONE | living in high cotton

NAVIGATION . MASTERLIST

This chapter is part of a series entitled 'Nine Lives of a Thief,’ but you may choose to read each part as a oneshot. Click the link to view the series masterlist!

PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 4.1k SUMMARY: Years after your first love broke your heart, you’re stunned to see him among the newly welcomed group of survivors in Alexandria, and his return might just be the cure to your heart that’s been malfunctioning ever since he left. Your personal goal to put everything in the past is interrupted by his mission to win you back. WARNINGS: Major angst in progress. Talks of a miscarriage and a former abusive relationship. SETTING: First few weeks in Alexandria and pre-apocalypse flashbacks

The last time you spoke to each other, the two of you were getting high in your parents’ Chevrolet Cavalier that you stole. On your ring finger rested a bejeweled stone he’d given you, promising you his love. 

I’m gonna marry ‘ya, he had told you. You believed him more than you believed any god in your life. You were going somewhere far away together, ready to leave behind the life both of you had. To him, leaving meant leaving Merle. But to you? It meant leaving everything behind.

And now, there you were. You no longer sported the voluminous curls the eighties deemed fancy, your face was bare, and you were older. He couldn’t take your eyes off you, and he wondered if you could also tell how much he’d changed ever since…

Well, ever since he ditched you. And most of all, he wondered if you were still carrying the same indignation you had when he left.

For the first time, your eyes laid on him from afar. Of all the many survivors you expected to find within the walls of Alexandria, you didn’t expect this damn asshole.

He watched as your face went from bliss to raw recognition, his heart thumping faster and heavier in every passing second you didn’t dare to walk over to him, until you did.

Oh, he didn’t know what to make of the world around him as you came closer. It was just like seeing you for the first time again, but this time he was begging the Earth to swallow him whole. 

By the time you were standing in front of him, the archer was at a loss of things to say, but also the power of saying it. Seconds passed and a look of doubt and uncertainty kept flashing on his face, and yet nothing came out of his mouth. 

You were just as bad. God, you hated the feeling in your bones that wanted to throw your arms over his shoulder. He was alive and breathing. The closest thing you could do was give him a tight smile.

“Hi,” you tell him with a smile. “I—uh, it’s been, what, thirty years?”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh, and he was grateful to all the saints and gods in the world no matter how much he lacked faith that some force of destiny had brought him here, and that you were still safe. 

The weight in his chest was slowly beginning to lift. Maybe it really is all in the past. 

“Yeah, m’still Daryl, though. You?”

You chuckle. “Still [Y/N], sadly. Y’know, uh, I was actually just about to head out to the porch with a beer. You…wanna come with me?”

Then came the weight. You noticed rigidity returning to Daryl’s stance, and you instantly regretted having asked. 

You chuckle nervously. “You don’t have to, I just… Thought you looked—”

He shook his head to assure you. “Nah, yeah, I wanna come with ‘ya. Let’s go.”

The air was cold, but it didn’t bother you as much in the presence of Daryl Dixon. You wanted to beat yourself over the fact that he had so much control over you all thanks to the scent of his you could recognize anywhere. Heck, you smelled him before you saw him. The moment that you got a whiff of him just a few minutes ago, you knew you were bound to crumble. It’s only thanks to the bottle of beer in your hand that you’re able to comfort yourself.

He leans against the porch’s post as you lean opposite him. He’d changed indeed. You eye him with deliberation: his hair was darker, longer. Wrinkles were present in places where you used to kiss him. You shake the thought away. “Not surprised you’re a survivor.”

An unsaid anguish hung between the two of you. Daryl crossed his arms to gnaw at his thumb. He never seemed to outgrow that habit, and you couldn’t help but feel comfort from the familiarity.

“Have ‘ya been here right from the start?” he asked to break the ice, taking a sip from his bottle so he’d have something to do with his hands when you spoke.

“Yeah, I—uh—bought a lot here when they were still preselling, so I got it for a pretty good deal.” You shrugged. Moving away from the post you were leaning on, Daryl thought you were going to leave with no farewell, but instead you just set the beer down. “Y’know the house you and your folks holed up together in? That was mine.”

You could see heat rush to his face, and you could tell he felt bad over the prospect of you giving up your house for them. Daryl’s shoulders tensed. “They kicked ‘ya outta yer own house?”

You shake your head with a smile. “No, it’s not like that. I volunteered to give it up. I moved to a smaller house. I’ve been dying for an excuse to leave that house, anyway.”

“Why’d ‘ya wanna leave? It’s a big house,” he observed. It is a big house. It catered to the entirety of their group with no problems.

“Because it’s a big house,” you answered as-a-matter-of-factly. Living alone in that shell of a home haunted you in more ways than one. At one point, you felt as if there was a ghost upstairs because you had never bothered to visit it. 

Daryl paused. You had to glance his way to check on him. He seemed to be debating on whether or not he should ask something until he decided on doing so. He needed answers. “What about your…family?”

He’d been trying to forget that the last time he really saw you was years after he’d left you. It was in a grocery store, and you were shopping for baby diapers while caressing your belly. And then he was on the run with Merle again.

That was ten years ago, some time before the turn. Daryl assumed one of the kids he ran into was yours, or maybe you’d tucked him or her to bed. He knew nothing about you.

“Oh, it’s just me.”

It was clear Daryl had more questions, but you figured he deserved to know at least a little bit of your recent history. 

“It’s alright to be curious, y’know. Husband ditched when he knocked up his work wife. Good riddance.” You hated that you were only relieved to find out he’d left. It wasn’t standard for a woman to rejoice upon discovery that she’d been left for another woman, but it meant freedom. 

Daryl nodded slowly, processing it all in his mind. He couldn’t believe it, any of it. He’d been living on the belief that you were better off. That you were happy.

You sipped from your beer again. “I didn’t really mind, and taking care of the divorce papers proved to be a good distraction. Plus, I got the house and the car so I’m not really complaining. He did get our vacation cabin in Vermont, though. But what good is it for now, right?”

“Right,” he scoffed. And he didn’t want to ask, but he decided to maximize your go signal to ask anything. “What about… What about your kid?”

You raised a brow. “You know about that?”

“M’sorry,” he hurriedly said, shaking his head. “Ya don’t have to tell me anythin’ about that.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You waved a dismissing hand. It surprised you that you were no longer as affected as you were then. It no longer pained you to talk about her. “She died the minute she came into the world.”

“I’m sorry.” The image of you shopping for diapers came to Daryl’s mind. At the time, it seemed that you were happy, and maybe he was right. But the more he knew about you, the more he began to doubt that your life was better the moment he left it. 

All the time you spent apart, Daryl concocted an image of you tending to your sweet and happy family in the suburbs, busy sending your kids to school and celebrating every anniversary with your husband in different countries every single year.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said with a smile. You’ve moved on from it, really. “It was for the best. Can you imagine raising a kid in this mess?”

Daryl made no comment whatsoever, but you remembered that his gang had brought a teenager and an infant. 

You sigh. “Sorry. But you get it.”

“S’fine, yer right anyway.” Daryl took a sip from his bottle. “You should meet ‘em sometime.”

You nodded in response, and he watched as you subconsciously and subtly knocked on your chest. It was one of those things he’d gotten used to seeing you do back then, and he never got to ask why you constantly did it. It didn’t feel like a big deal to ask now, so he let it slide, simply grateful for the opportunity of seeing the little parts that made you who you are once more.

“Geez, I think I gotta lay off the beer,” you said, settling it down on the floorboards.

He nodded. “Right, good call.”

“So, how’s my house?” you started. Daryl knew the time for him asking you questions was over, at least for now. He respected that.

“S’good, there’s plenty of space for us all,” Daryl answered. “Though I gotta be honest, ‘ya gotta give us some time to warm up to it.”

You give him a warm smile. “I get that.”

“But it is cozy,” he added. You don’t know what he meant by it, but a playful grin rested on his mischievous lips. “Pretty far from the camper van ‘ya said ‘ya wanted to live in forever.”

“We’re gonna run away and we’ll just…I don’t know, steal one of those camper vans and go anywhere together!” you had told him when you let him put the ring on your finger, wearing a smile you were so sure you’d never have to bother removing.

You stared at him a little longer than you intended to. You notice the mole he had just shy above his smirk that slowly faltered. You used to love kissing that very spot. No, don’t think about that.

Fuck. “M’sorry, didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” you laughed, waving your hand in the air to assure him. “I’m just surprised you remember.”

His shoulders relaxed, but the guilt that accompanied him in every journey he’d taken on never left. If anything, he felt its weight more so now that he’s found himself in front of you again. 

“Yeah, well, how could I not?” 

“To be fair, you did drive away in my car while I was getting nachos.” You had to look away this time, bringing your attention to the gates in the distance. 

Daryl froze. He wasn’t stupid, but he might as well have been. He knew what it looked like to you all these years, and for the first time in a long time he thought once more about how you must have felt in the parking lot, searching for half an hour only to realize you were all alone miles away from home.

It was too late to explain himself, but he could at least try. 

“M’sorry about what I did,” he said carefully. “I was an idiot for that. M’just glad to know you’ve been alright all these years.”

He didn’t mention noticing your jaw tightening as you smiled at him, but he also realized how much of a bad choice it was to comment that you’ve been alright. There was a story in that expression of yours somewhere, he knew that. It just wasn’t the time to ask about it more. 

“It’s fine, really,” you told him. “It’s in the past, it’s been decades. We’re adults. And it’s the least of our problems now, I mean, we got the dead walking for fuck’s sake!”

You laugh in disbelief, and so does he. It was so easy, so natural. Suddenly, you were seventeen in the passenger seat right next to Daryl fucking Dixon singing Boys Don’t Cry by The Cure as it played in the car stereo. 

No.

This shouldn’t be real, you thought to yourself. You’d put him in the deepest, darkest pit in your mind and in your heart. Daryl coming back was a blessing and a curse. Though you were grateful to discover that he was a survivor, his presence ached you deeply.

It dug out every single memory from your past you’d tried so hard to bury. Your smile faltered as you felt the past blending with the present. 

Daryl noticed the change, so you spoke before he could. 

“I should get going now,” you announced with a forced smile, a little bit louder than you intended as your mind was preoccupied thinking of an excuse. “I gotta go home!”

“Want me to walk with ‘ya?” You could see a grin growing on his damned lips. It was like being brought back to the past. You knew this scene somewhere, and you hated that you liked it.

“Well, I—it’s fine!” 

“S’fine to walk with ‘ya or s’not fine to walk with ‘ya?” he asked, but it was more of a challenge. Usually, you knew what to say and how to say it. You were just that kind of person, it was even something you were proud of.

“Erm,” you gulped. 

This was not one of those ‘usual’ moments.

You wanted to return to the party, but you couldn’t just say that—you’d already taken one step down, away from the porch! 

You look back at him to explain yourself as you walk a little bit farther every single time. You were going the wrong direction, but you decided that it was too late to go the right way. You’d just have to make a round trip across Alexandria. “I got this…thing. In my stomach. I have to, you know. And I’m tired, so I guess I’ll—!”

“Nah, seriously, I insist.” Daryl had made up his mind the minute he asked. He brought the half empty bottle of beer with him as he walked ahead of you. 

You scoffed. “Fine.”

Though Daryl seemed to have built this wall around himself, you could still see rays of his stubbornness. It used to be something you’d fight over, but also solely for the purpose of kissing and making up.

The first half minute of the walk was silent, and you hated how peaceful and at ease you felt. It should have felt unbearable, uncomfortable. Daryl had a way with his presence you never realized you’d been missing until now that you have it again.

You tell yourself it’s just the severity of being your first love, but it was more than that. You waited for a couple of seconds to pass before deciding that this idiot wasn’t gonna make conversation despite insisting to walk you home.

“So, the outside,” you started. “How long have you and your people been out there?”

“For a while. The longest home we had was a prison.”

“You were…in jail?” you asked hesitantly. You knew of his criminal record, but you didn’t consider for a moment that he’d been behind bars this entire time.

“No,” he answered. “Just found shelter there.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know you’d find a grin on his face. His stupid, stupid, stupid face. “Ya thought I was in prison?”

“No! Just when you mentioned it. Then just now, I thought it made sense why I never heard from you.”

Daryl stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He’d thought you wanted nothing to do with him. “You were expecting to?”

Maybe it was wrong to confess something like that. “A postcard would’ve been nice.”

“Didn’t know where ‘ya lived.” He shrugged, even though he wanted to admit that he assumed you no longer wanted to hear news about his whereabouts. 

“Well, you knew about my kid. What’s that about?” You’d been meaning to ask, but you couldn’t find the opening. 

The archer halted, looking for an escape hatch. 

I heard from a friend? No, he didn’t. The honest answer would’ve been that Daryl wanted to reach out to you but bailed when he discovered the good life you were blessed with. The life Merle said you’d be robbed of having had you run away with Daryl.

But Daryl wasn’t an honest man, at least not tonight.

“I didn’t know, I just guessed.”

And of course, you let him lie. “Right. And you wanted to walk me home because…?”

“I wanted to.” Daryl had not yet toured the entirety of the neighborhood, but it felt like a pretty long walk for a walk home. Just when he’s about to ask, you reach the small apartment buildings just across Deanna’s house. The two of you had just done a round trip of Alexandria. You were just right across the street.

He wanted to ask why you’d taken the long route when you’d seemed so eager to be away from him earlier that night, but he knew exactly why. 

You were never able to make the sane decisions when you were with him. 

You stop in front of your home. “Well, this is me.”

“M’kay, I’ll see ‘ya around.” The archer gave you a tight smile, raising his hand as a wave right before turning around to make his way to the gate. 

“Daryl,” you called. And he’s glad you did. “Have you been well? Ever since?”

He thought of Merle. Beth. Herschel. Everyone they lost. When you were younger, you changed him. That change was undone when he left, ruining everything you’d built together. But this time, the man you built before was slowly returning. 

Has he been well? Daryl knew better than to disagree. 

The archer stared up at you one step away, curious if his eyes were deceiving him by letting him see you again. “Yeah, I’ve been alrigh’.”

“Okay,” you say, half-satisfied. “I had fun. Bye, Daryl.”

And Daryl watched as you hurriedly got inside your home. You didn’t know it yet, but something inside him sparked bright with ambition. This wasn’t the end of it.

Mornings in Alexandria were particularly slow in the most comfortable way possible. It unnerved Daryl; something about going on his day ‘normally’ felt alien, out of place. Thus, he’d often step out for long hours to ‘hunt,’ when really he could be back anytime he wanted with his stellar skill in the craft. 

He wouldn’t say it, but he just felt suffocated in Alexandria. Some would argue that the apocalypse wired him to be the way he was now, but a part of him would beg to disagree. He would’ve felt smothered had he found himself inside the damn gated community way before the turn. 

And that’s precisely why he’d fallen prey to Merle’s argument about you that fateful day he left.

“What, ‘ya think a girl like [Y/N]’s gonna be fine livin’ off pot? Nah, brother. She’s been livin’ in high cotton her entire life. Girls like her were made for them nice houses with picket fences married to a fancy man who works in a bank. How’s that g’nna work, huh? Hell, yer the kind who robs one!”

Daryl had been so sure he made the right choice then…

“Something bothering you?” Carol asked the archer, just leaving the house in complete uniform looking very much like a sweet, harmless housewife. 

“Nah.” Daryl looked up behind him as he sat on his haunches, cigarette in his loose hand as if it was an extension of himself. “Didn’t feel like goin’ out today, but I didn’t feel like stayin’ here, either.”

“You could take a shower,” said Carol. Daryl grunted, and she only smiled, knowing where to direct the conversation to. “Maybe then you could finally ask out your pretty neighbor.”

“What?” Daryl spun, standing up to meet Carol at eye-level. He didn’t want anyone to know of his past, much less see a part of it. Suddenly, everything felt real. You felt real. You were, but it pained him to admit that he hasn’t yet been able to say everything he’s wanted to say in every single day that haunted him when he left. 

Carol, on the other hand, had thought nothing of it for the past week. Though she wondered if there was more to the story, she resorted to assuming Daryl simply liked the Alexandrian. But Carol wasn’t stupid, she knew now for sure that there was something deeper.

“See, I was making conversation with everybody. I heard from Sally that [Y/N] was supposed to bring cookies, but she burnt them too much.” Carol wanted to laugh at how serious her friend looked, eager to hear more. “So, I wanted to help her out and Sasha said she saw her leave with you.”

“S’that it? All of it?” Daryl asked, his voice grim. 

Carol crossed her arms, raising her brow in question. “That’s all of it for me, what’s all of it for you?”

The archer trudged down the stairs of the porch, tossing the cigar on the floor as he did so. “Nothing.”

“The house we’re staying at,” Carol started, just enough to get Daryl to stop in his tracks. “That house is hers, isn’t it?”

Daryl paused. “Ya heard some of it?”

“I may have heard some of it,” she said. “I might have even heard…all of it? Before you walked her home?”

“Damn it, Carol!” he groaned in exasperation. There was no point in denying it now. Carol knew something, and knowing her, Daryl knew she’d been observing you ever since that night. No lie would slide past that woman no matter how hard he tried.

“So?”

Daryl looked around him, checking if someone else was listening into their conversation. “The garage,” he said. And so they went.

When they got inside, Carol was surprised to find a brand new motorcycle. She ran to its side, eyeing the shine on the body. “Oh, she’s pretty! Where’d you get her from?”

“I know,” Daryl exclaimed. “Aaron, he… He wants me to look for survivors with him instead of—Ow!”

Carol punched his arm, her eyes wide in defiance and her mouth grinning wide. “You’re trying to change the subject!”

“Am not,” he defended, feeling his arm with his hand. That woman was a nut, and she was getting an answer whether he wanted to or not. “Fine. Just the short version.”

She crossed her arms again, making her outfit look more like a costume than a uniform. “Alright, what’s the story?”

He didn’t want to tell it, but somehow he felt he needed to. Daryl was used to bottling his secrets in the belief that he could carry it all on his own. He couldn’t. It just so happened that it was your history together that had the most effect on him. 

“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Daryl started. His heart was begging to be released into the wild where it could be free. Telling this part of his life was something he’d never bothered to let out. Heck, he’d never even thought about it to himself in a long time. He treated it like a dream he was starting to forget but couldn’t. “I was trynna win her when we grew up, and I—we dated. For some time. Then we were gonna run away together. She was the one who wanted to; stole her parents’ car ‘n everythin’, brought a wad load of cash. I gave her a ring I saved up for, and we were gonna go far away. We hopped two states. Then I… And… I just—she was one of those kids from a well off family, alrigh’? And I was…intimidated.”

Though Carol found herself smiling for the first half, she didn’t like where this story was going. “What did you do?”

Daryl stilled himself for what was about to come out next, from his mouth and Carol’s.

“I left her while we were two states away from home. She was shoppin’ for groceries while I was in the parkin’ lot. I drove away. With the car. And the cash. Never looked back.”

The next thing he knew, his friend had planted a hard slap across his face. And he knew he deserved it. Heck, he deserved worse than that. Maybe even deserved to die for it, now that he knew the life you were left to live wasn’t exactly paradise.

Daryl Dixon was a coward.

Daryl Dixon was stupid for assuming he could even win you back.

And most of all, you would be just as stupid if you let him.

i'm still building my blog. so for now, just send me an ask to be added to my taglist :)

DARYL DIXON TAGLIST: @vaniniweenie

[hornedstorys]

Bayverse Crosshairs x Reader – Flirty – light NSFW

Warnings: Crosshairs is just a rascal ;), slight nsfw due to dirty talk, but really nothing blatant.

Content: Crosshair flirts with you

You sat bored in your father's garage and watched as he poured the last of his money into even more junk. You rolled your eyes, but at the same time you felt sorry for him. You visited your father from time to time, you actually had your own apartment, but at the moment you were on vacation and you wanted to enjoy it here.

Of course, mainly because the Transformer boys were here, all of them you liked very much. One in particular.

As if you had spoken of the devil, you heard the engine scream of a jade-green Chevrolet Corvette Stingray 14 from outside.

He was probably here to get on your father's nerves. Crosshairs loved to annoy him because he always knew everything better when it came to wrenching, but so did your father.

"Hello (Y/n)," he greeted you and you could see the mischief in his eyes. You grinned. "Hello Crosshairs, what brings you here?" You asked and the big Transformer sat down, at least where there was still room. His glowing eyes watched you.

"I got a scrape, right here," he pointed to a spot under his eye. You raised an eyebrow. Crosshairs had a temper, but he was also a bit vain and he always took good care of his paint when he was in car shape. You sighed, "Let me see it."

"Thanks babygirl," he breathed and you blushed, but skillfully ignored it. Cade didn't, however, and he cast a warning sideways glance at the tall green, who only raised his arms defensively.

Carefully you settled on Crosshair's hand and he lifted you to eye level. He actually had a small scrape there in that spot, but nothing that couldn't be mended.

"Mama, you look really good today," the Transformer said and you laughed out.

"Very funny. I'm covered in oil and grease, that's anything but pretty." Crosshairs' bright eyes lit up at that statement.

"It glides much better with oil," you nearly choked on your spit and your eyes narrowed to keep your emotions in check.

"The color of your eyes matches my inner leather perfectly," he winked at you and suddenly he closed his large hand around your body and you were trapped in his grip, but he was gentle and you felt how nervous you were getting.

"Don't let my dad hear you say that," you warn him, but that only challenged Crosshairs more.

"Remember my name, little one. Because you'll be shouting it later," oh my, can he please stop? It really made you blush, you wriggled in his hand and your palms got sweaty.

"Am I making you nervous, babygirl?" He mocked and you knew he was absolutely right. It made you very nervous and it wasn't just the pick-up lines.

"Mhm look at you," he purred. "So many curves and me with no brakes,' he cooed and got closer to your face, you put your hands in front of your face and you heard him chuckle deeply.

"Your clothes would look better on the floor," he whispers close to your ear and you squealed.

"Stop bothering my daughter!" Growled Cade and Crosshairs just scoffed at him. There was no way he was going to stop. You were the most adorable, human being in this world and beyond. And he loved to make you blush, these were the days when he wished so much to be human just so he could see your blush even better every time he was the one embarrassing himself. He would do so many bad things to you if he could. He would make you scream his name until you could never forget it. He wouldn't keep his carnal hands off you.

"Come (Y/n), a little joyride, just the two of us," he growled, glancing furtively at Cade for a moment, just to see how upset he was with the way he was treating his daughter. You lost your voice a long time ago and before you could say anything, Crosshairs had transformed and his seatbelt tightened around your upper body, especially your breasts.

"A little careful Crosshairs," you pleaded with him, ignoring the fact that he had turned on the heated seats. With screeching tires, he left his father in the smoke and drove out of the barn. Cade had tried to throw a screwdriver at him, but it narrowly missed the Transformers.

[saintmurd0ck]

cherry red

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

summary: you and frank break into a vintage car dealership to scope something out for agent madani, and it turns out that you have a little time to spare before the drop happens

warnings: mentions of cocaine (no drug use), breaking and entering, the FBI lmao, shameless flirting, calling frank big boy, pain kink if you squint, (very little) spit because how else do you up frank's pleasure *gunshot*, unprotected p in v, creampie, goodbye i'm going to bed

a/n: for everyone who agrees that frank should be called 'big boy', this is for you!!! also this is my first full length frank fic lets fucking go

There’s not a sound but the rustle of your clothes as you case the dealership, Frank following closely behind you. He looks over his shoulders—a cautionary measure, despite the fact that the owners are on the other side of the world—before thumbing at the light switch on the wall.

Fluorescent lights flicker on in stages, a steady, low hum of electricity filling the space. Your eyes squint as you adjust to the brightness.

Frank looses a bated breath. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit,” you affirm, casting your gaze across the almost-cavernous, windowless room. Rows and rows of vintage cars stare back, their timeless, luxurious finishes glinting in the white light.

“That’s gotta be worth more than…” you trail off, looking down at your hands.

“Twenty-two million dollars. This room alone,” Frank finishes.

You swear, stepping forwards to skim your fingers along a chromed side mirror, then bending down to check your reflection. “So what are we looking for again?”

Frank sets his duffel bag down onto the reception desk, careful not to disturb the fanned business cards adorning the surface. “Guns, coke, contraband,” he lists. “Whatever we can find.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” Frank asks, bewildered. His attention snaps to you.

“Is there a car in particular we’re looking for?”

“Honestly sweetheart, I dunno. If we gotta sweep every single one, that’s what we gotta do.”

You push up off your knees, weaving in and out of the cars. “Before the auction, yeah?”

“S’right,” he grunts, pulling out a silver crowbar. “Smart girl.”

Ignoring the heat now searing your face, you focus on trying to name the cars, although you really only recognise a few of them.

Your eyes warily glaze over a black 1962 Chevrolet Corvette, its headlights polished to perfection. Next to it there are a number of vintage Ferraris, one Aston Martin, and a newer model Rolls Royce in the corner.

But one car in particular snags your eye, knocking the breath from you.

Frank whistles. “She’s pretty.”

You shoot him an incredulous glare, slightly offended he’d say that about the car and not you.

He’s not wrong, though.

It’s an old Mercedes. A 1961 Roadster, you think, marvelling at the almost pearlescent ivory paint restoration, the perfectly polished hubcaps, and the smooth leather interior of the deepest cherry red. You’re transfixed as you hear the engine in your mind, the revving beneath your feet, feeling the phantom breeze ruffling your hair as you speed down the highway with no destination in mind.

“You know what I think?” Frank says, clearing his throat, but you’re caught in your fever dream, music blaring from a shut-off radio that’s only active in your head. “I think…” he trails off, voice dropping to a bare whisper.

You whirl around as a loud clang drags you back to the present, one of the gleaming Mercedes-Benz hubcaps laying flat on the ground.

“What the hell, Frank?” you glower, eyes widening.

He responds with a grunt as he moves to the driver’s side, leaning his bodyweight into the crowbar as the next hubcap pops off.

Your hands fly to your face as he continues to move around the car, vandalising it beyond—

Oh.

The corners of Frank’s mouth curl into a wry smirk. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

He motions for you to come over, using his crowbar to pry out several small, duct-tape-wrapped packages from inside the wheel. “Dumbest fuckin’ hiding place I’ve ever seen.”

He pats the passenger door. “Gotta give it to ‘em, though. Moving drugs through cars at an auction? It’s a Ponzi scheme, but a goddamn good one.”

“This what I think it is?” you ask, crouching down next to him, irresolutely turning one of the bricks over.

He nods, pulling a knife tucked into his boot before sticking it into one of the packages. He dips his hand into the opening, rubbing what looks to be a white powder in between his fingers.

“Time to call Madani,” he grits, placing the brick back on the ground. “Could you do that f’me, sweetheart?”

Biting your lip, you pull out your phone to dial Madani’s number, wincing as Frank digs out the rest of the cocaine from your beloved Roadster. In eager anticipation, she picks up after the first ring, and the drop is arranged for 2.30 AM.

That leaves you thirty minutes to spare.

“So, Frank,” you remark, tucking your phone back in your pocket, “do we need to check any of the other cars?”

He sets the crowbar on the ground, getting up to lean against the front passenger side door. “Nah,” he replies, folding his arms across his chest, “FBI’s problem now.”

The growing smile on your face turns suggestive. “Guess we have time to kill before they show up, hm?”

Frank cocks his head. “And what’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?”

You stride towards him, reaching out your hands to uncross his arms so they lay straight at his sides. Trailing the tip of your index finger up his chest, you circle the outline of his mouth. It catches on his bottom lip as you drag it back down, and he shudders at the lightness of your touch.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, big boy?” you grin.

He moves off the car, rolling his eyes as you saunter to the driver’s side, brows furrowing as you go to unlatch the door. The red leather is cool beneath you as you slide in, hands instinctively going to grip the wheel. Imagining the engine roaring to life, you press your foot down on the accelerator, as far as it’ll go.

“You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” Frank chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe,” you muse, aware of the mischievous glint in your eyes. “If that’s something you want.”

“You haven’t had any of the white stuff, have ‘ya? ‘Cause you’re sure acting like it.”

“Dick,” you swear. “We’re surrounded by nice cars, Frank. How do you expect me to behave?” Taking your hands off the wheel, you twist in your seat to face him. “Surely they’d have the keys here somewhere, right?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, like they’d keep the keys to a four hundred thousand dollar car here.”

“Awww,” you pout, “but I wanna go for a ride.”

Frank’s ears perk up. “S’that so?”

You lean back against the seat, running your tongue over your lips. “In this car.”

“What, and you think I can help with that?”

You bat your eyes at him. “Don’t get too flattered, but I think you’re the only person in the world who can help with that right now.”

“Right now?” he shoots back. “Just right now, huh?”

“Shut up and get over here before I rescind my request, Castle.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move that fast, because he climbs into the passenger side, scrambling to get you on his lap.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, hands finding your waist, guiding you back and forth over his hardening cock. His breath fans your neck as he nips at your pulse, spreading his legs apart on the seat.

You tip your chin downwards, your lips messily crashing into his, his mouth—his body—warm and supple against yours. He shifts his hips, slotting himself between your thighs and into the one place you need him most. At this rate, the friction of your clothing is almost too much to bear, but you’ve always been one to toe the line between pain and pleasure.

Especially when Frank’s involved.

Your body clenches as he palms your clit, groaning your name into your skin, etching kisses along the curve of your jaw. He skirts the hem of your top, slipping his tongue into your mouth before lifting it over your head, leaving it in a scandalous pile on the driver’s side.

“Naughty girl,” he laughs dryly, adding your bra to the pile along with his own shirt. “Tell me this isn’t what you thought of first when you saw the car.” He stiffens as you catch his bottom lip with your teeth.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying it,” you croon, the jovial note of your amusement diffusing itself into the vast space of the dealership. Your fingers roam along the plane of his stomach, feeling his abs contort underneath your touch. “Pretty boy.”

Resting his hands on either side of your spine, Frank swipes his thumbs over your nipples, intently staring as you throw your head back, rolling your hips into his. You squeeze your thighs into his sides as he seals his mouth over one of your breasts, flicking his tongue over the pebbled flesh.

“Bruise—“ he groans, his voice caught in a hoarse whisper. Oh, right, you remember, looking down at the purple splotch stretching across the ribs on his right side.

But you don’t let up, not when he’s driving you mad and touching you like this. You dig your knee into the bruise lightly, waiting for his body to seize, for his panting to echo before putting it back down on the seat.

“You’re a fuckin’— animal—“

Something compels you to do it again, but he slaps your leg away, retaliating by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You cry out his name, the echo of it thundering in your ears.

“Dick,” you gasp, slamming your palms into his chest. You gripe at the fact that he loses himself in a quiet sort of laughter, and that he’s all chiseled muscle and not putty in your hands.

“You insulting me or s’that what you want?”

The mirthful gleam in his eyes flicker as he looks you up and down, waiting for your next move.

“Fine,” you say, a little too scornful considering the situation you’ve found yourself in, moving to undo his belt. Pausing once to take your own pants off, your fingers move deftly to unbutton his jeans before you tug them down and off his legs. Not taking your gaze off of him, you brace one hand on his shoulder while the other slowly creeps up his thigh.

Frank squirms beneath you, his lips pressing into a thin line as you cup his balls. Your breathing turns shallow as you wrap your hand around his shaft, running your thumb over the precum glistening on the head of his cock.

“Fuckin’— shit—,“ he hisses as you squeeze him. You hinge forward to nip his earlobe, to whisper filthy nothings in his ear, but he bucks his hips upwards, almost reflexively.

And that is something too good to pass up.

“Feel good, Frankie?” you ask, moving to stroke him up and down, ensuring your pace is just shy of what he likes on himself.

“Mm—“

“I think this’ll feel better,” you interject, pausing to spit on his cock.

Frank’s mouth parts in a wide groan at the added lubrication, and the way you’ve so brazenly spat on him, narrowly missing the priceless cherry red leather. Not that having sex in this car isn’t already brazen to begin with.

Clambering back onto his lap, you nudge his cock into your opening, coating him in the slick of your arousal. You press your face against his cheek as he pushes himself inside you, moaning into his mouth at the sensation of his thick head stretching you out. It burns, but it burns so fucking good.

He grits his teeth as he eases you down on him, guiding you inch-by-inch until you're so full you can barely breathe, your core tightening to the point where you wonder if he can feel pleasure at all.

He reminds you that yes, in fact he can, because he's cursing under his breath, gripping the dashboard so goddamn hard you think he might leave half-moon marks in the shape of his nails. He jerks his hips into yours, driving himself so deep you see stars for a second, whispering into the trance of your intimacy that you're his girl and that you feel so fuckin' tight he might burst at any given moment.

Now accommodated to his size, you fling your arms around his neck as you begin to move, resting your forehead against his. You roll your hips in languid, circular motions, fingers curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"God fucking damn, Frank," you whimper, switching to bounce on his lap, holding onto the top of the seat for extra support. He sends you into a catatonic state of delirium as his thick cock hits deeper in this position, and soon you're squeezing around him, crying his name and falling over the edge of satisfaction.

Frank buries his face in your tits as you collapse onto his chest, your body still moving to the rhythm pounding inside your head.

"Hey, hey sweetheart," he says gently, moving to caress your jaw. "You okay?"

You flash him a weak smile, holding out a thumbs-up. "Keep going, Frank. M'not done yet."

"You sure?"

Raising your hips only to slam them back down on his seems to give him the reassurance he's seeking. Thrill shoots up your spine as he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

His tone is nothing short of wicked. "I do as I'm told, yeah?"

He drills himself into you, setting a ruthless pace, mouth roving over every accessible inch of bare skin. You thank every god you can think of for making this place soundproof, because the two of you would be so incredibly dead if anyone could hear the sounds coming from your mouth.

You fall apart on his cock more times than you can count, burying your face in his neck as Frank's thrusts become more erratic and sloppy, his strokes faltering with every passing second.

"M'gonna cum for you," he groans, throwing his head back against the seat and lurching his arm towards the top of the windscreen. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone as his hips stutter, spilling every last drop inside you.

"Fuck," he whispers, his cock twitching as you finally muster the energy to get off of him. He looks down at himself, horrified, and you follow his eye line to the mess on the seat between his thighs.

You choke, caught between a laugh and a gasp, equally panicking at how you're going to clean it up and possibly more importantly, how Madani isn't going to figure out what you've just done.

"Guess we can call this hard evidence for the FBI?" you sputter, trying your best to swallow your growing smirk.

Frank's cheeks turn red as he blows out a breath. "S'alright. This belonged to an asshole and it was gonna be bought by an even bigger one." He shrugs. "If I can't put 'em down, this is the least they owe me."

"You know Frankie, sometimes your logic is flawed, but I think you're right on this one."

He goes to smack your ass, but as you pull your panties on, your phone lights up in the footwell of the car, its shrill ringtone deafening to your ears.

MADANI

You glance at Frank, a humorous expression dancing across your face. "Good timing, huh?"

"Ain't that right."

tags {x} for all my frank girlies!!! <3 (I'M SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEONE I'M SO NOT OK RIGHT NOW)

@marvelswh0re @murdock-and-the-sea @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass @reborn-rekall @castlesnchurches @chellestrash @darlingshane @chvoswxtch @stress--relief @pedrito-friskito

[scrompsautobotsrchives]

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee

Part 1 of the many more rewrites to come, This will allow me to make them the very best that they can be. Word count:1.5K

It's official !! You walked out of the DMV as proud as you can, you had officially gotten your license to drive. Your dad was super duper proud of you. He knew you would ace it after a few goes. Soon the day after your 16th birthday, he kept a deal with you, If you managed to get good grades before the summer started. He would help you get your first car.

You made it to the used car dealership. God, there are so many options to choose from. What do you pick first?

"Hello welcome to mirage automotives !!" The dealer greeted you and your dad.

"Hi, What would be the best starter car for a kiddo that had just gotten their license ??" He smirked at you playfully.

"Dad" You grumbled, turning slight pink.

"That's perfect. We do have some very good Toyota Corolla's..." The dealer tried to sweeten the deal.

But they didn't quite scream take me home, They were all pretty av. But as you walked by, you came across a bright yellow colour. It pierced the side of your eye. Looking over your eyes were in a little state of wonder, A 1977 Chevrolet Camaro.

You went over and got a proper look on the inside, this was almost practically in mint condition, How long has it been in here ??

Your dad saw you and slightly grimaced, he would know these types of cars would be super expensive.

"Y/n ?? You sure you don't want to look at some of the Ford's ??"

"Could we take a look at this ??" You looked up at him with soft pleading eyes.

"You sure ?? I know you kids want cool cars but... Don't you want something sturdy ??"

"I know But it's just a look"

So he let you do your own thing, Wow the being inside the car was even better than the outside. Oh this was talking your language.

The dealer saw you two and strutted over. "She's a beaut ain't it ??"

"She is" You smiled

"Tell you what, cause you gotten your license, $2000" He offered.

You looked at the dealer and your dad, Please !!!!!!

Your dad could only chuckle, oh alright, for his kiddo.

Once the paperwork was all sorted, he happily handed you the keys and you were officially on your way.

"Thank you Dad... thank you so much !!" You had a beaming smile.

"You better not ding this car up" He playfully chuckled and ruffled your head.

"I won't"

You soon began the drive out of the parking lot, making your way back home. The drive was as smooth as butter. You then reached over and tried to turn on the radio, but it started to act strange... it whirred and scratched, jumping stations.

"Weird" You turned it off.

"If that guy ripped me off..." Your dad frowned slightly.

"I'm sure he didn't, It might just need to be upgraded. Besides the car works is what matters the most" You smiled, trying to reassure him.

He smiled a little. "You're right, it is, thank goodness for that"

And so over the summer, you began to perform various upgrades and much-needed maintenance to the car. It was honestly so much fun. Your whole summer was practically this car, and soon you put the final piece to the puzzle. A brand new radio, hopefully, it'll work... But even when school finally started, you were puzzled by the radio still scratching and whirring all over the place. Not only that, new problems started to arise, The pedals would sometimes not work, gears would change, and even the speedometer was all over the place.

So before school, you took it back to the dealership to ask some questions.

"Hey hi, umm I bought this car last summer and I've done a good amount of upgrades to it, but it seems to be having some issues ??"

"What seems to be the issue ??" The mechanic wiped his hand and looked over the car.

"The radio is just jumping without me turning the dial, The pedals get stuck, Gears change and the speedometer just goes..." You mimicked how it went.

"I'll take a look at it"

You handed him the keys and waited outside the shop, about half an hour later he came back to you with your car.

"Everything looks fine on our end." he handed you back the keys.

Over time, you were just getting more and more frustrated, more problems were starting to arise and you were on the brink, One afternoon, you came back to the car after school and turned the ignition to start it. Nothing... again... nothing, third times a charm, it worked but the speedometer was wonky yet again.

You groaned and began to bang on the dashboard in frustration. "What's wrong with you !!!" You shouted at the top of your lungs.

But then... the engine stopped.

Wait... hang on... cars were not meant to do that.

You frowned as you watched the radio begin to flick a few stations before playing a snippet of a song. "It's nothing wrong with me..."

"What the..." Your car was haunted.

The radio scratched again, playing more strung-together dialogue. Was it... Trying to talk to you ??

Not bad kid..." It said once you figured it out.

You tried to calm yourself and looked around, before back at the radio. "What are you ??" You spoke hesitantly.

"I am... from space !!" It scratched again.

"An alien ??"

An audio of applause was playing. Holy shit... an alien car.

"Why are you here..."

But before the alien car could answer that, you jolted at the sound of something hitting the windscreen, a cup of not-so-nice liquid. Courtesy of your bully.

"Missed a spot L/n" He laughed as he fist bumped his friends.

You growled and flipped him off before the radio began to scratch and play an audio from over the summer, it was your voice telling them off... what in the Ai is this !!

But this riled the bully up, and he walked over to try and get you out, before the car soon began to start and drive on its own, revving out of the parking lot and on the road.

"Shit shit !!!!!!" You tried to hang on from all the drifts and turns as the bully and his friends chased you. Ok, you were gonna be sick. Soon you arrived at an abandoned building after making a different turn, hopefully, they wouldn't find you... oh, come on !!

His friends quickly got you out before you could do anything and sealed off any exits. "You think you're a tough one aren't you l/n ??" Your bully smirked before punching you in the gut.

This went on for a little while, and the alien car saw this time after time after time since school started, he was saddened that no one stood up for you, hence why he did what he did earlier.

So It revved its engine super loudly, scaring the bullies. He went over to the car and ripped the door open, only to find no one inside it... then how...

Suddenly the door slammed shut on his fingers, making him scream out. "Goddamn it !!"

You watched as his friends tried to get his fingers out of the door but it didn't seem to budge until the door swung open knocking them back. But then came the most strange thing of all. The car soon began to shift and transform, massive hands pushing against the ground, it's body rearranging and coupling to stand tall in a new format.

Your bullies friends soon bolted, fuck this shit, they didn't sign up for it.

The alien soon then shifted his arm into what looked like an arm canon. Aiming it at the bully who was now crying.

"Leave... them... alone..." It talked through the radio.

"Screw you !!" It yelled at the alien before it revved up, the arm cannon soon began to hum and glow. "Alright alright !! I'll leave them alone !!"

The arm cannon soon stopped and shifted back into a hand, But just for good measure, you saw the oil filter lid open up and pop out, soon spraying oil all over your bully. He had enough, soon he ran back to his car and drove off.

"Hasta lavista baby" The radio scratched the familiar Arnie dialogue.

You got up slowly and looked up at it... this was crazy... and it stood up for you... It soon looked at you, making you stand back... but it was a more soft look, like it was happy to see you.

"Who are you ??"

It's radio scratched. "My name... is... bumblebee" He whirred softly after.

"Bumblebee..." You started to twitch a smile.

He then did a few boxing punches while the radio scratched "I float like a butterfly and sting like a bee" He smiled at you again.

"Thank you..."

You reached out your hand, to which he responded by placing his palm over your hand, In this moment... a friendship was secured.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[callsign-dexter]

Maverick's Little Co-Pilot

Request: hi

I was wondering if you could write a mav x daughter where he took her to work with him (maybe the second movie but it is up to you) and she falls asleep in the control tower and bradley finds her and brings her to mav. maybe she didn't sleep that good the night before so mav doesn't want to wake her up so he just holds her and carrys on with his day but with a sleeping child. everyone on base thinks it is hilarious so no one takes him seriously lol. also maybe she wakes up at one point but he is able to help her back to sleep very quickly and the admirals think that it is funny how such a reckless pilot can be such a good dad.

100% your choice thank you for your time

Pairings: Maverick x Daughter!Reader

First Installment: Maverick's Little Co-Pilot

Second Installment: A Father's Fury

Warnings: Fluff

Masterlist

Maverick loved his little spitfire of a daughter. His little girl was the spitting image of him right down to her attitude. Once she set her mind to something forget about trying to change her mind. Her eyes were the same color as his, whatever color they may be.

In all honesty, if it were up to Maverick he would bring his little girl to work with him every day. Everyone loved his 3-year-old little girl. She was in preschool, the one on base, and it only went half a day so she was preoccupied during the morning and she usually went to Penny and Amelia during the afternoon. But the preschool called early Friday morning saying that they were closed due to a bug going around the school. It was too late for him to try and get a babysitter and Penny was gone with Amelia on a sailing trip. So when he got ready to go to work he got her ready to go with him but it was nowhere a peaceful night for either of them.

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It was a Thursday and Maverick had just picked his daughter up for school. As he went in to get her, her teacher stopped him. "Good afternoon, Mr. Mitchell. I wanted to raise some concerns with you about your daughter." Ms. Lake said to him and that surprised him, she had never given him any problem before.

"Oh?" Maverick questioned.

"She has been very irritable and had been refusing to do anything we asked. Is there anything that could cause her to be like this?" Mrs. Lake asked and Maverick stood there to think.

"None that I know of. She was fine when I got her ready and dropped her off this morning." Maverick told the teacher and the teacher nodded.

"If there is anything that I can do, please don't hesitate to call." She said and Maverick nodded. She left him to go and greet some other parents, Maverick stood there watching his daughter and after a few minutes walked over to her. He bent down to her level.

"Hey, Sweetheart." He said to her and she instantly perked up.

"Daddy!" She practically yelled out to him and launched herself into his arms and thanks to his quick reflexes caught her. "Miss you." She said and Maverick smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He needed to get to the bottom of her attitude.

"You ready to go?" He asked her and she nodded frantically. As they were walking Mrs. Lake looked at them and shrugged her shoulders and Maverick did the same back to her, this was a complete 180 from the girl just a few hours ago. He felt her nod her head and buried her face into his neck. He grabbed her backpack off of the hook and slung it over the shoulder that she wasn't occupying.

Maverick walked out of the building and to his blacked-out Chevrolet Silverado. He unlocked it and opened the back door to where her car seat sat. He still had his motorcycle but now that he had her it got used less and less. He still had his hanger but also had an actual house close to the base. When she came into his life his living situation and car situation changed... dramatically. He buckled her into the car seat and put her backpack beside her and got into the driverside, he buckled in and started the engine, and started his 40-minute drive home, more if there is traffic. "How was your day, Sweetheart?" Maverick asked her and she was quiet for a minute and he looked in the review mirror.

"It ok." She said in a quiet voice not looking at him and fidgeting with some of her hair. This worried her father. She was never like this. She was normally outgoing and for her to shut down and lash out was not right.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" He asked her. He was stopped at a stoplight so he could look at her longer and she shook her.

"No, Daddy." She said after a minute she added "Nothing wrong." She said and finally looked up at him. He nodded and then the light turned green and he paid attention to the road, something he started doing since he was driving with precious cargo.

Finally, they arrived home. Normally he would take her to Penny and go back to work but since it was actually raining for once in California they grounded all jets until the storm let up. He pulled into the driveway opened the garage and pulled in and killed the engine. He shut the garage as he was getting out and shut his door and then opened the driverside back door and unbuckled his daughter and they carried on into the house and grabbed her backpack. "Ok, Sweetheart. What do you want to eat?" He asked her as he put her down on the ground along with her backpack and toed off his shoes and helped her take hers off.

"Mac n' cheese." She said in a quiet voice this was not his energetic little girl he dropped off this morning.

"Ok. Do you want to help me make it?" He asked her and she shrugged her shoulders. "Do you want to go and watch some cartoons while it's being made?" He asked her and she nodded her head. "Ok, Sweetheart go ahead and sit on the couch I'll bring it to you when it's done." He said and she nodded and hurried off to the living room. She was fine leaving him since she knew he was just a short amount of feet away.

Once the food was done, he grabbed two bowls and filled them, and brought them to the living room. Y/N was lying down when she heard her dad come into the living room she sat up and he handed her a bowl, and sat down next to her. They were silent as they ate while watching reruns of Tom and Jerry. He needed to get to the bottom of this. "Sweetheart, your teacher said you were acting out. Why is that?" He asked her, noticing she was done eating, and so was he. He took the bowls and sat them on the coffee table.

"You in accident. You leave me." She said and the realization hit him hard.

"Sweetheart, where did you hear that?" Maverick asked her.

"Roo and Jakey." She said not looking at him with tears in her eyes. His heart melted. He was also going to have a talking to those two men.

"It's ok. I'm not going anywhere." He said and opened his arms and she crawled into them and snuggled into him. But he knew she wasn't listening and it was going to be a long night.

Throughout the rest of the day, they hung together and did some inside activities due to the rain. Each time he left the room she would panic and call out for Maverick. It was supper time and they were having her favorite, chicken strips and fries.

They had sat down at the dinner table and she was quiet. This really wasn't like his energetic 3-year-old. "Sweetheart you hungry?" He asked her and she shook her head no. "Can you at least eat something?" He asked almost pleading. She nodded and slowly ate her dinner once she had her fill she pushed her plate away. Maverick had long finished eating. "You done?" He asked her and she nodded her head. "Ok. Ready for a bath and bed?" He asked her she stayed quiet.

"No bath." She said and shook her head as Maverick got her from her seat and headed towards the bathroom. She started to squirm. "No bath, Daddy." She said and Maverick sighed.

"Please for me." He said and she looked into his eyes.

"Otay." She said with an eye roll. He reached the bathroom and sat her down while kneeling in front of her. He started to run the bath and found the right temperature and plugged the tub. Maverick watched it fill up while undressing her with little help from her. Once it was the right amount he stopped the water and sat her down in the tub. She didn't play much which made it easy for Maverick but also worried him. He washed her hair and gently cleaned her.

"Ok. Bedtime." He said and started to get her towel he unplugged the tub and let the water drain "Stand up." He said gently and she did. He stood up and wrapped the towel around her he dried her off some and picked her up and attacked her neck with kisses and she giggled. Once she was somewhat dry he carried her to her room and started to get her dressed. He sat on the bed and had her stand while he brushed out her hair.

Maverick got off the bed and pulled the covers back and picked up his daughter. He laid her in her bed and tucked her I'm. He grabbed a book and sat down leaning against the headboard and started to read to her until he was finished. He started to leave "Ok, Sweetheart. Have a goodnight and sweet dreams." He said and kissed her forehead but her brow furrowed.

"Daddy no leave." She said and started to cry. He stopped in his tracks.

"Sweetheart, you have to go to sleep." He said and she shook her head.

"No." She said and be sighed.

"I'll stay just until you fall asleep." True to his word he did just that. He got into the same position as he did when he read her a bedtime story. She snuggled into him and 20 minutes later she was out like a light... for now.

Once her breathing evened out he carefully got up. He quietly crept to the door and opened it, walked out, and cracked it. It was only 9:20 PM so he decided to do something work around the house until 10 PM.

9:30 PM rolled around and he heard little patters of feet coming out of his daughter's room. Maverick sighed. Y/N appeared in the living room where he was folding clothes. "Sweetheart. What are you doing up?" He asked and she looked at him and rubbed her eyes.

"Me no sleep without you." She said and he walked over to her and picked her up.

"At least try for me." Maverick asked and she shook her head.

"No." She said and pouted.

"Please?" He asked her.

"Na-uh." She said. He was getting frustrated but took some breaths and calmed down.

"You're going back to bed." He said sternly and walked to her bedroom with her in his arms. When he got there he gently laid her down and tucked her in, again, and walked out of the room. She stayed there for 10 minutes just enough time for him to put away some clothing of his. Then he heard little patters of feet, again. He turned to find her at the entrance of his bedroom. "Y/N." He warned and she gave him a look like 'What are you gonna do about it?' He picked her up and walked to her bedroom again and laid her down and wordlessly walked out of her room.

Maverick went back to his room to finish up and when 9:50 PM rolled around here came his daughter. He turned to greet her "Y/N Carole Mitchell. Bed now." He said sternly not raising his voice and picked her up and walked her back to her room once again.

10 PM rolled around he didn't hear anything so he got ready for bed and laid down. He was just about to go to sleep when he heard his name being called in almost a panic.

"DADDY!" Y/N yelled out and that had him shooting out of his bed and into her room. He flipped on the light and saw his daughter with tear tracks down her cheeks.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He asked.

"You gone." She said and Maverick sighed.

"Oh, Sweetheart." He said and walked over to her and hugged her. "Do you want to go sleep in Daddy’s bed?" He asked and she nodded. He picked her up and walked to his room. When he got there he tucked her in and cuddled her. He fell asleep when he felt her breath even out.

They might've slept for an hour before she was tossing and turning and calling out to Maverick. He would wake up startled and then wake her up.

This kept happening each hour on the dot. Let's just say neither of them got any sleep. 7:30 AM rolled but both of them were already awake. They were in the kitchen, Maverick was nursing a coffee leaning back on the counter watching his daughter eat breakfast. They both had a tired look on their face and bags under their eyes.

Maverick zoned out and when his phone rang it started him. He picked it up and before he could say hello the automated voice of his daughter’s preschool came through. "This is Miramar Navy Preschool. Due to the flu going around the school will be closed for the day. We'll let you know when classes resume. Thank you and have a good day." Well, it looks like Y/N would be coming to work with him. "Sweetheart, it looks like you're coming to work with me today." Maverick said and she looked at him and smiled. He grabbed her backpack and started filling it with things he needed.

"Me like going to work with you." She said and that caused him to smile. After he had his coffee and she had her breakfast. Maverick got them both ready to go to work and headed that way.

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When he got to work he pulled into his parking spot labeled Captain Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell, parked, killed the engine, and got out. He then got Y/N out and carried her along with her backpack filled with food, books, and toys to work with him. He walked into the building and into his office and closed the door. "Ok," he said and got down on her level after setting her down "If you can't be with me then you go to Rooster or Hondo. Understand?" He asked her and she nodded her head.

"Yes, Daddy." She replied as she looked into his same-colored eyes. He nodded and started to set her up next to him. He sat her on the chair and he got to work. The door was shut so anyone that needed to come had to knock. There wasn't much going on that morning until he needed to be up in his jet at noon.

Noon rolled around quicker than anticipated. He called Hondo in and a few minutes later he was strolling in. "What can I do for you Mav?" He asked then he saw Y/N.

"I was wondering if you could take her while I'm up in the air. Rooster is going to be up there with me along with most of Daggers. Also, new students are coming in." Maverick said while being preoccupied but aware of the conversation. He looked up when he was done talking.

"Of course Mav. Anywhere you want me to take her?" He asked and Maverick shook his head.

"Just keep her entertained." Mav said.

"What about the control tower?" Hondo asked Maverick.

"That's fine." He said and then turned to his daughter, who in turn looked at her father. "You stay with Hondo and if he leaves you in the control tower you stay there. Understood?" He asked her and she nodded her head.

"Yes, Daddy." She said and Maverick nodded and then stood up and picked her up. He brought her over to Hondo and handed her off. Once he started to leave she started throwing a fit and Maverick stopped.

"Sweetheart, I'll be back in a little bit. You'll get to see me up in the air in the control tower. I promise." Maverick said and she seemed to think it over and then rubbed her eyes, a sign of her being tired, she nodded her head. They went off their separate ways.

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As Hondo was walking he got stares but nobody asked. Once he arrived at the control tower he walked inside and sat her down. "Remember what your dad said right?" He asked her when he bent down to her height and she nodded her head.

"Uh-huh." She said and he nodded.

"Good. Do you want to go and sit up front?" He asked and she nodded enthusiastically and he smiled so was so a Mini Maverick. He took her up there and sat her down next to the person in control and boy did she ask a lot of questions.

She got really excited when the jets began taking off, of course in Maverick fashion he buzzed the tower and she squealed excitedly. "Daddy!" She yelled out and looked out into the air with big round doe eyes.

After a few more rounds of questions, and the person in control answered patiently, the lack of sleep was getting to her. In no less than 20 minutes she was out like a light snoring softly.

Hondo walked up to them and saw her asleep. He didn't want to wake her so he quietly told the person next to her that he got called away and that she needed to stay here. Really what happened was that the young hotshot students made a bet just like the Daggers did and now had to do 200 pushups.

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After everyone landed Maverick and the others did a post-flight check. Maverick walked to Hondo. "Where's Y/N?" He asked him.

"She fell asleep in the control tower." He said

"She should be good up there while I go and lecture these students. But I don't want her to overstay her welcome." He said sounding conflicted then Bradley walked over having heard the conversation.

"It's alright Mav. I'll go and get her. I'm done with everything. " He told him and he nodded.

"Jut don't wake her up. She didn't have a very good night last night." Maverick said and Bradley nodded.

"You got it Mav." Bradley said and headed towards the control tower. Once he got there he took the stairs two at a time. He opened the door and stood there for a minute and spotted her. He walked over to her and she was sound asleep.

"She wasn't too much trouble was she?" He asked the person in charge and they shook their head.

"Not at all." They said and Bradley smiled and nodded. He carefully picked her up without waking her and got her situated. She wiggled a little bit but stayed asleep snuggling into Bradley's neck. He began to move and tightened his hold as he began to descend the steps when he took the first step she woke up for just a moment.

"Roo?" She asked as she sleepily looked up at him.

"Yes, MJ?" He asked, he was the first to give her the nickname Maverick Jr. which than got shortened to MJ.

"Where we go?" She asked already leaning her head back onto her shoulders and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"We're going to your dad." He said and she hmmed and went back to sleep. He chuckled and started to descend the stairs once again. Bradley was the older brother she always wanted. He walked to Maverick's office but he wasn't there. Bradley continued to walk around the building with a sleeping 3-year-old until he found him in a classroom having just finished teaching. He walked in and Maverick lit up with a smile.

"Did she wake up?" He asked Bradley.

"Once but went right back to sleep afterwards." He told him and Maverick nodded. Maverick carefully unwrapped her arms from Bradley's neck and then transitioned her over to him and she clung to him like a koala. They both started to walk out of the room to Maverick's office when they got stopped by Cyclone, Warlock, and another visting Admiral.

"Captain Mitchell and Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw." Admiral West started "Maverick I must say it's interesting to see such a reckless pilot being a dad." He said in a teasing manner but they didn't take it like that. When the Daggers had successfully completed the mission they were prompted.

"As reckless as Maverick is in the skies. He's an even better dad. He's taken care of Y/N ever since she was a newborn." Warlock said taking up for Maverick. Admiral West scoffed.

"It is very true that he is a very good father. I respect him for that. I know it's not easy to balance a 3-year-old and a demanding job." Cyclone said as if Maverick and Bradley weren't there. Warlock turned to Maverick.

"How was training?" He asked him.

"It was good. If you want we can go to the conference room and discuss the training." Maverick suggested and they did just that. Bradley offered to take Y/N but Maverick didn't want to move her again since she was sleeping, and sleeping well.

The debriefing on the class and training was going well but Maverick and Bradley could tell that Admiral West was not taking him seriously. "Sorry to interrupt but is something wrong?" Maverick asked directing his attention to the visiting Admiral.

"How can I take you seriously with a child in your arms?" Admiral West asked and Bradley just about had enough and he didn't care if he got in trouble.

"You should take him seriously anytime no matter if he has his daughter in his arms or not. He's a great pilot and a great father." Bradley said and the Admiral looked at him with a shocked expression on his face.

"Excuse me Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw that is no way to treat your higher up." Admiral West said and before he could anybody else speak.

"I think it's time for you to leave, Admiral West. If you're not going to respect a Captain who successfully returned all aviators and WSOs home, then you need leave. Now." Cyclone said, and Admiral West scoffed and got up and left the room. Maverick was shocked that Cyclone would stand up for him.

Cyclone turned to Maverick and nodded. "You are dismissed. You can go back to your office and let that little girl sleep. We'll let you know when you're needed." Cyclone said.

"What about the other classes?" Maverick asked still shocked.

"Rooster will be taking care of those along with the other Daggers." Warlock said and Maverick nodded and both Cyclone and Warlock got up and left. Maverick looked at Bradley.

"That was brave of you." Maverick said

"Well, he had no right to speak about you like that." Bradley said.

"Thank you." He told Bradley

"Anytime, Mav." Bradley said to him. They got up and started in their own direction. Maverick arrived at his office where he sat down with his little girl in his arms, who hadn't moved even with all the talking.

Every now and then she would move in her sleep but wouldn't wake up. She would just snuggle into him deeper and that brought a smile onto his face. Maverick was just glad to have her in his life. Nothing could take her away from him, not now and not ever, she is his everything. Y/N was his mini co-pilot. He started on his plans for his next class that was going to be taught by Bradley and the others. It was just him holding his little girl in silence with the sounds of the occasional jet flying by. That was his paradise.

Tag list:

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@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

[strangerslxt]

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Devil In Disguise

“You look like an angel.”

“Walk like an angel.”

“Talk like an angel.”

You hummed along with the melody softly as you did your usual afternoon run around the block.

Head phones on your ears and Walkman safely tucked into the pocket of your polyester shorts, you jogged without a care in the world.

Oh but you would wish you did care.

A familiar Chevrolet Camaro was speeding up to you, slowing down enough so his car would be out of your sight for the time being, Billy kept his eyes glued to the round globes of your ass peeking under those shorts.

Exhaling from the Marlboro he had just hauled from, he could feel his jeans tighten.

You intrigued him, you were relatively friendly to everyone at school, except him.

“Bitch.” He muttered before revving the engine loudly enough that it came over your music.

Irritated you pulled your head phones off to see who it was that interrupted your vibe.

“Douche bag!” You holler at him while throwing up your middle finger for extra measure.

The corners of Billy’s lips turned up in a taunting smirk, you had balls, for a chick anyway.

He blew down on his horn while gritting his teeth and hitting the gas petal harshly, gravel spraying up from under his tires, right into your direction.

You cry out angrily as the tiny rocks pelted hard into your skin, and glare as the car disappears down the road quickly.

Angrily you jogged the rest of the way home in silence, your teeth grinding together as you thought of Billy Hargrove and his smug smirk.

You didn’t find him impressive or something to fawn over like all the girls at school did.

He was a jerk who just happened to have a hot mullet.

Shaking your head, cheeks slightly pink from complimenting him in your head, you kicked your sneakers off and padded to the kitchen for a cold glass of lemonade.

Looking at the little hand written note your mother had pinned under a magnet on the fridge you groaned, she was away again selling Mary Kay beauty products and wouldn’t be home till Saturday morning.

Sighing you leaned against the counter and sipped your beverage while looking out the window spacing out for a moment or two.

“Guess I should do some homework.” You murmured while taking your hair out of its pony tail and sat down at the table doing exactly that.

The next day in the school parking lot, Billy leaned on the hood of his car with a cigarette hanging from his lips and watched you with brooding eyes.

You were walking with your head down, books clutched tightly to your chest and those damn head phones over your head.

Flicking his ash, he watched you for a moment before smirking as your eyes suddenly met his, mouthing some obscenity to you which earned him a death glare but he seen the subtle blush creeping across your face.

“Fuck off hargrove.” You spit as you pass by him, avoiding his hard blue eyes.

“Panties in a twist princess?” He retorted back with a scoff.

You stop with a dirty look on your face, “You nearly stoned me to death with that stupid stunt you pulled yesterday. You drive like a moron.”

Billy gave you a crooked smile and shrugged before flicking the cigarette butt at you, “Watch where your walking then.”

Glaring, you puffed your cheeks for a moment before turning on your heel and stomped away quickly, fuming.

God he was such an asshole.

Billy chuckled to himself before noticing a tiny flash of gold on the ground near where you had been standing just a few moments ago.

Bending down he carefully lifted a small gold hoop earring, one he was familiar with.

The ones you always wore.

And now another mistake you’d come to regret…

A/N: pt.1 is finally done, I’m ngl I just wanted to get the boring shit out of the way and get into the juice😫