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lainiespicewrites · 3 months

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Electric Summer

I decided to start something new! I know I said I was going to try to finish Coach Sy first but I just don't have ideas for it. And this would not leave me alone.

Summary: OFC is a camp counselor. She and Sy used to be childhood besties and used to have a summer fling. But when they get older and school ends. She thinks she'll never see him again.

Warnings: none

Let me know what you think. Comments and Reblogs are always welcome

This work is totally my own and I own all my mistakes. Obviously, I don't own Sy.. man I wish

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This was easily my favorite time of the year. I love the fall and the smell of the leaves and cozy blankets and warm drinks. It was a beautiful time of year. Fall was my favorite season. But this was not that. This was magic. Summer’s always were. Even when the sun went down at 9pm and the sky faded to black there was still an electric energy that burned in the air. The nights weren’t over just because the sun had fallen. In fact that was the time when the best memories were made. Especially here. It’s so cliche, but to me this is the happiest place on earth. Forget Disney world. No, the best times were had slipping away from mom and dad and spending the summer with friends you hadn’t seen all year, jumping in the lake, tipping a canoe, hiking through the woods at night, sneaking off to steal a kiss with your crush behind the cabin, and warming up around the campfire at night.

This camp built me. It holds my dearest memories from my childhood and adolescents. When they messaged me and asked about coming back as a counselor it was an easy answer.

I looked over at my best friend pouting on my bed while I packed my suitcase.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be gone all summer!” she grumbled. I laughed, shaking my head at her.

“I told you, you could come too! They need more counselors.” I stated, matter of fact. She scrunched up her nose and raised an eyebrow.

“I love kids but I’m not very outdoorsy, no way I’d last all summer! I’m too pale to be in the sun that long.” she retorted

“Fair, we’ve been swimming once this year and you’re already burnt.” I chuckled. I put another towel in my bag and she took it out and threw it on the bed. I sighed.

“It’s not forever V, you can literally come visit me.” I said “I won’t be on my phone much at all but I can give you nightly updates before lights out!” I promised.

“Fine,” she conceded, repacking the towel for me. “But if you meet somebody and start some whirlwind summer love you better tell me immediately! I want all the details! We haven't spent this long apart literally since we became friends!” I laughed

“I doubt it, but if the perfect man somehow manages to show up to sweep me off my feet at summer camp I’ll let you know!” I told her.

“It could happen! Didn’t you have a lil summer boyfriend when you were younger?” She asked. I thought back to my days as a camper. All the friends I’d made, the silly little camp crushes. Then there was him. For 3 straight summers there was him. I tried to resist it at first. He was incredibly charming. A lot of the girls had a crush on him. He was energetic and funny and he had this big smile. That first summer we became fast friends. I tried to ignore him but he wouldn’t leave me alone. If I got up to leave the group he’d get up and ask where I was going. When we had to use the buddy system for a game or a hike. He would claim me before one of my girls could. His friends would get mad at him for it. I never understood it. But camp was only 2 weeks long. I didn’t have enough time to dwell on it.

The next summer. He grew. He had to be at least a foot taller. His hair had grown out into these beautiful wild curls. I think maybe he’d started working out. He mentioned he was playing football in school. So maybe that was why he seemed more toned. He still had that big sweet smile. He’d grown into a gentle giant. It must’ve been fate that once again our cabins were paired together as a group. And because we’d become such good friends he sought me out immediately. Pulling me into a big hug.

“Hey girl!” He beamed, squeezing me tight. “Glad we’re here together again, how have you been?” He asked enthusiastically. I chuckled, my arms still wrapped around his middle as I found my footing again. He’d practically lifted me off the ground.

“It’s good to see you too, Logan.” I smiled. Despite how hard I tried, That summer, I could not deny that I had developed feelings for him. I was too shy to tell him. And I loved being friends with him. I didn’t want to lose that. However even though Logan didn’t seem to notice it was painfully obvious to one of my bunkmates.

“You should tell him you like him!” Tasha said, sneaking up behind me. This particular day the girls in our cabin decided to ditch the boys, who were off playing ultimate frisbee or something, and go on a hike.

“What?” I said quickly. She shook her head.

“Girl, you obviously have the biggest crush on Sy, you should tell him.” she repeated herself. I started to chew on my lip nervously.

“Logan? I… tosh… he’s my best friend. Aside from you of course,” I assured her, “I can’t tell him.” I said. She sighed dramatically.

“Why not? He’s literally so nice, the worst that would happen is he’d say he wants to stay friends.Plus I really think he likes you too!” she said hopefully.

“You can’t know that.” I retorted. She shook her head at me again.

“I’ve heard people talk about it. I was in the bathroom last night and I overheard these girls from cabin F talking, one of the girls said she’s really jealous of you because of the way Logan clings to you,” she argued.

“He does not cling to me,” I said.

“We had to tell him our hike was no boys allowed because he was gonna ditch the boys to come with us!” she cried.

“Maybe he wanted to hike?” I argued. Tasha gave up and just laughed.

“Girl you’re hopeless.” she said, as we continued to walk.

A few days later the boys and girls cabin went on a night hike together. It was a tradition. Something we did every year. We walked through the woods when it got dark and played games as a group. I hated it. It freaked me out. I was not a horror movie fan and this was like an invitation for a demon to jump out and attack you. Needless to say I was scared the whole time. Sy picked up on it immediately. Sticking with me the whole time. Distracting me and making me laugh. And when I got really tense on the walk back he grabbed my hand. When we were back in the clearing by the cabins Tasha looked back at us and noticed our hands smiling to herself. She stopped walking until she was next to me on the other side and whispered in my ear.

“Girl if you don’t tell him I will.” I pouted and gave her a look and she just laughed skipping ahead again to hold the hand of this year's camp boyfriend. Needless to say I still didn’t tell him. I spent the next week and a half doing everything I could to avoid it.

On the last day of camp a few of us were sitting in the grass in the sun soaking up the last few hours together before our parents arrived and we had to say goodbye. We were talking about our favorite things we’d done this summer. What we were gonna miss. Promising to keep in touch.

“Hey Logan, you know you only live like an hour from Lainie?” Tasha said all of a sudden.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, looking over at me with a big smile on his face.

“Mhmm.” she continued, "You guys could totally hang out sometime!” she exclaimed.

“How did you know that?” I asked her suddenly.

“I looked it up,” she shrugged. I rolled my eyes but then looked over at Sy, his long legs stretched out in front of him on the grass, leaning back on his elbows, the sun shining down perfectly warming his face. He looked beautiful. He had a sparkle in his eye when I met his gaze.

“What, you don’t wanna see me?” He pouted. “I think it’d be fun! You get your license in a couple weeks right?” He raised his brows eyes hopeful. I was surprised he remembered. We talked about it at campfire a couple nights ago. He told me he was saving up for his own car so he didn’t have to drive his brothers hand me down anymore. And I said I just couldn’t wait to be able to drive without my mom in the car.

“Yeah,” I said, “I do, and of course I wanna see you Logan,” I blushed.

“That’s perfect,” Tasha spoke again. “You guys could go on a date or something!” she winked.

“Huh?” I choked. Glaring at her. Logan didn’t say anything. Or if he did I was too shocked to hear what he said.

“Girl, don't act like you don’t have the biggest crush on him. We all know it.” I could feel everyone's eyes on me now and my cheeks were burning.

“Is that true?” Logan asked softly. I couldn’t look at him. I chewed at my lip trying to come up with anything to make this go away but I couldn’t .

“I-I …my parents are gonna be here soon! I need to finish packing!” I said and stood up quickly running toward the cabin. That wasn’t true. I packed everything this morning. I was bragging about it to him saying I had the whole rest of the day to enjoy what we had left of camp. He knew I was lying. I heard him call after me but I didn’t stop. Not until I got back to our cabin. The boys weren’t allowed there. I could stay there and hide until It was time to go. And that’s what I did. An hour later our counselor came to find me telling me my parents had arrived to take me home. I didn’t see Logan when I was leaving. I didn’t look for him. I was too embarrassed to find him to say goodbye. So I didn’t. I left without a word. And I felt horrible about it.

Another year came and went. Logan and I never met up after summer. I didn’t text him. I was too afraid. And I’d never given him my number. I was beside myself with nerves about returning to camp that next summer. It was my favorite place on earth. And my worst nightmare all wrapped into one. After the way I’d left things with him last year I was afraid to see him. I thought that maybe I’d get lucky and he wouldn’t be there the same week I was. Or we wouldn’t be in the same group. So at least I could avoid him. Even if it was gonna hurt.

Of course that’s not what happened. Again our cabins were in a group. The first day I avoided making eye contact with him. And I always stuck with the girls. I didn’t want a chance for us to be alone together. Conveniently Tasha couldn’t make it to camp this year. So I was stuck in the mess she’d made without her help. He and I were together for group activities but I didn’t talk much. I kept to myself. That worked for the first day. But it didn’t last long. During the afternoon at camp we didn’t have a lot of scheduled activities. So we could pretty much run around and do whatever we wanted. And since we were the late highschool aged group. We didn’t have to follow the “buddy system,” They encouraged it but I guess if we went missing that was on us. It was just after lunch. Maybe 2pm. There was this little circle of bench swings in the park. It was a great place to gather as a group. A lot of times we would sit and reflect on the day there before the campfire at night. But right now no one was there. I liked to keep a journal while I was at camp. To keep all of the memories. So I sat on one of the swings with one leg folded under me and the other dangling off to push myself on the swing. I didn’t see him coming. I was too busy scribbling down all of my thoughts. I didn’t notice anyone was there until I heard the creak of the chains from the swing directly across from mine. I looked up. Logan was sitting on the swing, his arms stretched over the back of it and rocking back and forth on his heel pushing the swing. I set my pen in my journal, closing it slowly, before I could speak, he said.

“Please don’t run,” His voice sounded deeper somehow even though he spoke softly. I knew he was from the south. He always had a bit of a twang but I’d never noticed that drawl like I did now. When he was pleading with me. I swallowed hard and nodded. “I don’t like this,” He spoke again when I remained silent. “I hate that you’re ignoring me.”

“I’m not…” I started

“You are,” He interrupted, letting out a deep sigh. “Lainie,” he said, my childhood nickname. The one he’d started to call me after we all shared fun facts about ourselves. It was the name all of my mothers family had called me since I was a baby. He’d never actually addressed me by my name from that point on. It was always a joke between us. A little sentiment that he claimed as his. It sounded sad now. As he pulled his eyes from the mulch on the ground to meet my gaze. “You are my best friend. You can talk to me. About anything. Hell, I’m closer with you than I am with any of my friends back home.” He said. “I know that things were kinda awkward when we left last summer but you didn’t even say goodbye.” He paused. I bit my lip, starting to feel emotional.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I was so embarrassed.” I finally admitted to him. “I didn’t mean to leave like that. But everyone was looking at me. And I was scared and I was afraid I was gonna lose you as a friend. But I guess I did that all on my own.” I sighed.

Sy stood up and crossed the space from his swing to mine. He paused waiting to see if I’d make room for him. Naturally I did. He sat next to me. Stretching his arm out behind me on the back of the swing.

“You couldn’t lose me if you tried darlin,” A soft smile formed on his lips. If I didn’t know any better, it almost looked sad. I could tell that he was having an inner battle in himself. “Why were you scared?” He finally asked. I swallowed a lump that was forming in my throat. There was no point in avoiding it now. He had to know that I’ve had a crush on him. Even I know that he isn’t too oblivious to realize that much. I felt my breath hitch when I felt his hand cover my shoulder. A gentle squeeze and a soft storking of his thumb brought my eyes to his.

“Because I didn’t want anything to change, what we’ve got going is good,” I spoke barely above a whisper.

“Why would…” He started. But I cut him off before I lost my nerve.

“Because Tasha was right. I did..do have a big crush on you. But it’s silly, and you’re such a great friend to me Logan, I didn’t want to lose that because of how I was feeling.” I rambled.

“Huh,” He breathed. “You have a crush on me? I never would of guessed.” He smirked. I pouted and smacked his shoulder.

“Sy, I’m serious!” I ran my hand through my hair and turned away from him to nervous to hold eye contact. I heard him chuckle softly before I felt his fingertips gently brush across my jaw turning me back to face him.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he paused regaining his composure. “You really think I didn’t notice?” He raised both brows and had a gentle smile on his lips.

“You knew?” I muttered softly still so embarrassed about the whole situation.

“It’s kinda what I what I was hoping for, I’ve only been flirtin’ with ya for two summers now,” He laughed. It was my turn to be confused. I raised an eyebrow. This only caused him to laugh more.

“You?” I paused trying to wrap my head around what I was trying to say. “Wait so?”

“I’d have loved to have taken you out, If you’d have given me the chance.” He explained. I hung my head resting it my hands and groaned.

“I’m an idiot.” I sighed.

“No,” Sy said, “I should have said something sooner, and Tosh shouldn’t have called you out like that. I’d known for a while but, I really liked the way things were between us. I didn’t see a reason for us to push anything.” He said slowly pulling my hand away from my face and lacing his fingers with mine.

“You really liked me this whole time.” I said finally looking up at him, relaxing a bit when he smiled.

“Since the day I met you.” He admitted. I smiled. And squeezed his hand I sat up moving to sit closer to him. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could one of the counselors was interrupting us.

“Hey guys you know the rules. No purpling, No PDA,” They warned us and stood there until Sy let go of my hand. They nodded at us before walking off to montier the rest of the play ground. Some of the younger age groups were playing in the park. ‘No purpling’ such a stupid metaphor. Girls are red boys are blue if red and blue touch it makes purple. It was so annoying.

“I hate that damn rule.” He grumbled. I giggled softly.

“Yeah, me too.” we both just looked at each other and smiled.

After that moment we spent the rest of that summer by each others side. Camp always seemed like such a short time and this time it seemed like it was slipping away even faster. We never made anything official but we did hold hands when no one was looking and occasionally we would sneak off from the group to have time alone.

One evening after dinner a few of us decided we wanted to take out some canoes on the lake. Of course the two of us took one out on our own. For some reason that night Sy was quiet. He had been a lot of the day. I finally decided to ask him about it. “Are you okay?” I asked after a few minutes of silence had passed while we floated in the middle of the lake.

“Yeah,” He answered quickly “Why?” He wouldn’t meet my eye.

“You’ve just been quiet, is something bothering you? You can talk to me.” I assured him. He sat there for a few seconds without saying anything before letting out a deep breath.

“This is gonna be my last summer at camp.” He said softly. My heart sank. I knew he was about a year older than me. And we could only come back as campers through the year after we graduated high school. But he was about to start his Senior year. He still had one more summer.

“But you haven’t graduated yet. You can still come back next year!” I said hopefully.

“It’s not that,” He bit his lip looking out at the water still refusing to look at me. “I signed up for the military. I’m gonna be in the army. I start basic right after I graduate. And then they’ll send me wherever they need me.” He said finally meeting my eyes.

“Oh,” I nodded. “So, after this summer, we won’t ever see each other again.” I said sadly.

“Hey, no,” he said, grabbing my hand, “We still got a whole year. I could come see you or you could drive to me and we… we could make this…” He trailed off.

“Logan,” my voice cracked as I started to speak. “You and I both know it’s not going to work. You’re going to be so busy with football and your friends and your family. And I will be too.” I felt him squeeze my hand and he nodded, a sad look in his eyes.

“I know, but I just got you, I don’t wanna let go yet.” He said. I felt a tear fall and I wiped it away quickly, not wanting to make him feel any worse.

“Maybe, we were only ever meant to have summer.” I said.

“Yeah,” He whispered. “Guess we better make the most of it.”

We spent every second we could together the rest of camp. Hell he even walked me to the bathroom. It killed me to know this was all we were ever going to be. I’d never met anyone like Logan before. I hated to say that I was in love with him. I mean I was only 16 but. It sure felt like it. We did every activity together, sat together at dinner. And he’d put his arm around me at campfire when the adults weren’t looking. The night before camp was over was the annual night hike. He knew how much I hated it. So while the rest of the group headed off into the woods he grabbed my hand and led us to another trail that led to an open grassy field. The boys usually played frisbee or softball out here.

“Logan,” I whispered. “We’re gonna get in trouble.” I said.

“They’ll never notice we’re gone.” He said. Pulling me into his chest and hugging me tight holding me for a moment. “I just wanna be alone with you.” he mumbled into my hair. He walked us out to the middle of the field and sat down pulling me down with him. “Come here.” He said laying back on the grass and pulling me into his side. I snuggled up to him laying my head on his chest. We laid like that for a while just silent. Looking at the stars above us.

“I don’t wanna leave tomorrow. I don’t want to have to say goodbye.” He said. I felt myself start to tear up but I forced them down.

“Are you scared?” I asked.

“No,” He admitted shaking his head. “My dad was in the service and my grandpa, my older brother. It’s just what we do.” He said.

“I hate this.” I sighed. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore or him.

“Me too darlin.” he said. We laid there in silence again. Until he spoke. “Would it… would it be too selfish to ask you to wait for me?” He asked. I felt tense. I sat up laying my hand on his chest and turned to look at him.

“Logan, you don’t need me to wait for you, you’ll meet some pretty girl in your home town. Some girl you can come back home too when it’s all over. You’ll have long forgotten about me when you come home.”

“I could never forget you Lainie,” He said softly. My breath hitched. His eyes bore deeply into mine. Even with nothing but the moon light and the stars lighting his face I could see he meant it.

“Sy,” I whispered. He caressed my cheek sitting up to close the distance between us. This would be the first time we’d ever kissed. Maybe the last. I could feel his breath against my lips as my eyes fluttered shut.

“There you two are!” The boys councelor called from across the clearing. “What were you thinking you had us all worried!” We’d been caught.

We didn’t kiss that night. We never did. The next day when my parents came to get me. He stood there outside of our cabin holding me tight. Neither of us wanted to let go. But he didn’t kiss me goodbye. We couldn’t do it. I guess it was better not to know what we were missing.

“I’m never gonna stop thinking about ya,” He said. As we finally pulled away.

“Neither will I.” I said

That was 7 years ago. We didn’t see each other after that. I cried and sulked the rest of that summer.

I shook my head bringing me back to the present. My best friend still sitting on my bed looking at me expectantly.

“Hello, Lainie,” she snapped her fingers.

“What? Uh yeah, I guess I did have a summer fling. I mean, we were never official, never kissed or anything. But that was years ago. Who know’s where he is now.” I said.

“Who knows. Fate has this way of bringing people together.” She said. I shook my head.

“You’re such a hopeless romantic.” I laughed.

“And you’re hopeless, would it kill you to belive in fairtales. Or romance.” she argued. I just laughed.

“You know what you’re right. You never know what will happen this summer, camp always has been a magical place.” I said.

A few hours later I was finally on the road. I felt the excitement rise up inside me as I passed the familiar rode signs. I was almost there. I thought my heart was gonna burst when I pulled into the long drive under the main archway. After parking my car I walked up to the main building to meet with the camp director.

“Lainie!” She smiled greeting me with a hug. “I’m so happy you were able to join the team this year!” She beamed.

“I jumped at the opportunity Becca, I wouldn’t miss it!” I said.

“We’re glad to have you, I’ll get you checked in so you can get settled and get your cabin set up and meet your co-coucelor. You’re with one of the boys cabins. You’ll be in cabin E and He and his boys are in A.” She smiled.

“Okay sounds great!” I was buzzing with excitement.

“I’ll let you get to it,” she said “I’m sure you remember where everything is!”

I unpacked my car and carried my bag and suitcase to my cabin. It felt so good to be back. I started to unpack and make up my bunk when I heard a knock on the screen door. I figued it must’ve been my co-concelor coming to meet me. I walked to the door stepping out on to the porch of the Cabin, seeing a man standing there. He was maybe 6,1 his hair was buzzed short. And he had a full beard. He had broad shoulders and a warm smile. His eyes went wide when they landed on me. And the moment I met the I knew why. “Lainie?” He asked. Still with that deep southern drawl.

“Logan?”

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Tagging my usual suspects, but let me know if you'd like to be added!

This is not the end of this story at all! There is much more to come here I can't wait to get started!!

Link for pt 2

@enchantedbytomandhenry @summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007

#captain syverson x ofc #fanfic writing #captain syverson #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #captain syverson smut #august walker #august walker fanfiction

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kiwisbell · 8 months

Text

Whiskey Sour

chapter seven [epilogue]: ancient mariner

Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.

series masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending

word count: ~ 11k (oops)

a/n: thank you for being here besties. here's a little epilogue/slice-of-life bonus chapter. i love you so much and i hope you've enjoyed this fic. whiskey sour will forever hold a special place in my heart and i had the best time ever writing it xx

chapter 7 [epilogue]: ancient mariner

Loving.

You take Joel to visit your new apartment.

It's small and quaint and so you. Pictures of you, your father, and your friends are tacked to a cork board. Decorative pillows and blankets are strewn about your love seat and plush chairs. Your kitchen is just big enough to fit you, light woods and natural light and your favourite colours. The floor-to-ceiling windows on the north wall give you a good view of the university a few blocks away. You're on the twelfth floor.

“What if there’s a fire?” says Joel, inspecting the locks on your door. They seem sturdy. The walls are a pleasant white, the floor clean. There's no mould or mildew. Everything looks perfectly safe.

“If there's a fire, I’ll take the stairs.”

“If the stairs are on fire?”

You give him a look. “I’ll yell down to the firefighters to set up a mattress on the ground, and hope for the best.”

“And your neighbours?” he says, breezing past your smartass little comment. “They good people?”

“I haven't gotten the chance to introduce myself yet.” You shrug your shoulders, watering a snake plant that hangs down from your curtain rod. “I’ll bring them some cookies next time I bake. I’m sure they're lovely.”

“You can't know that,” he points out.

You hum dismissively, and Joel catches a wicked smile on your face. “No, but if I want to bring a guy home, I don't need to sneak him past any housemates.”

Joel walks right up to you where you stand by the windows and snakes his arm around your waist. “Wanna keep bein’ funny,” he says, “or are you gonna finally let me kiss you again?”

“That depends.” You smile up at him, placing your hands on his chest. “Will you help me put together my dresser?”

Joel grins, tilting your chin up and kissing you softly. You smile against his mouth, winding your arms around his neck. He guides you to the window and presses your back against it, your body curving up against him. “My girl,” he murmurs, his lips at the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Kiss me again and I’ll believe you.”

He does. Decadently.

Hands on your waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, teasing your soft skin. His tongue parting your lips, tasting bitter morning coffee and mint. His mouth and yours. The smell of his cologne.

When you pull away, you litter kisses from his nose to his forehead down to his scruffy beard. “Do you want dinner?” you ask him softly.

His eyes light up, and he looks down at you like a hopeful puppy. “You want me to stay?”

You squeeze his strong biceps. “I need to put you to work, and there is no way I’m letting you leave my sight tonight.”

Joel answers by crushing his mouth to yours, feverish, his rough hands exploring the soft skin of your hips beneath the fabric of your sweater. You’re wearing a pair of soft lounge shorts, and he can feel the pretty lace of your panties just under the waistband. Jesus, he's going crazy. You smell like perfume and you feel so good. This is where he belongs.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead to yours. “If I ever fuck up like that again,” he says, “kick me in the balls.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you mean it.” You shake your head at him. “Nobody’s gonna hurt me. Especially not you.” You lace your fingers through his and bring your joined hands to your heart. “You came back to me.”

And it is never enough. But your heart beats strong and steadfast under his palm, and he knows you believe it. “You know I can be a real idiot sometimes,” he says.

“Yes,” you reply, your fingers tracing the lines on the back of his hand. Marks of age and scars and sunlight.

“My foot’s in my mouth all the time.”

“Mmm.” You bring his hand to your mouth and press soft kisses to his rough knuckles.

“I’m too old for you.”

Your lips find the pads of his fingers. “You’re just right,” you whisper, playfully nipping at the tip of his index finger. “Everything about you is so right, Joel Miller. Like Goldilocks. But… grey.”

Joel steps forward and presses his body against yours. This time, it’s your hand he takes, putting it to his chest. Your fingers slip greedily under his shirt to find the warm skin that lies beneath. “Feel that?” he says gruffly. “Feel how fuckin’ fast my heart’s beating?”

You bite your lip when you smile. “For me?”

“It’s only ever for you, baby.” His hand is a solid weight at the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your jaw. “Makin’ me feel like a goddamn kid with a crush on the pretty girl.”

“You could have all the pretty girls you want,” you tell him, your hand dipping to his belly. “You’re so handsome. So strong. And so good to me.”

Goddamn, he likes it when you say things like that. His ego gets a big fucking kick out of it, and his cock certainly hangs on every syllable of your praise. He hasn’t been good to you, not always—not the way you deserve—but he’s here for a reason. He’s here, in your shiny new apartment, to prove that he can be the one you want to put your faith in.

“Don’t want any girl but you.”

“Good.” You’re so close, the shapes in your irises so mesmerising, and he needs to kiss you again. “Because I’m all yours.”

Fuck, if that doesn’t shred the last of his self-control through a pinhole. Joel winds his arm around your waist and walks both of you toward your bedroom, his mouth attacking yours with no more ceremony than a fucking animal in heat. He cannot stop touching you. It’s all he knows. It consumes him, devours him whole. His hands on your body, vaguely discomforted with the layers of clothing between him and your nudity even as his brain goes fuzzy and forgets all sensation except for you.

His mouth is on your throat as you both stagger until your back is against your bedroom wall. “Put me to work, baby,” he says into your skin, kissing his way down your neck. “Let me undress you.”

“So no dinner, then,” you laugh, a little breathless as he sucks a dark spot into the curve of your neck.

“I’ll skip to dessert.”

You giggle when his nose tickles the spot below your ear. “Cornball.”

“Let me,” he pleads, pulling back to look into your eyes. His pupils are wide and they gleam with something close to mischief. You nod your head.

Joel takes his time undressing you. Your sweater goes first, tousling your hair as he brings it up over your head. His lips attach to your collarbones, your sternum, his fingers slipping around your back to the clasp of your bra. He unclips it with one hand and slides the straps down your shoulders. “So beautiful,” he whispers, gripping your hips a bit tighter when he says it, his voice taking on a bit of a growl. “Lie on the bed for me.”

You back toward the bed on shaky legs and sit down on the edge, watching him fit himself between your open legs. “I said lie down, baby. Not sit down.”

You push your tits out, just begging for him to touch. “What if I want you to make me?”

Oh.

Joel’s fingers tease the shape of your hard nipples, your lashes fluttering as he circles the points. His palm presses flat to your sternum and pushes gently, lowering your upper half down to the mattress. Dipping down toward you, he flicks his tongue against your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Your breath trembles out of you, your hand flying to the back of his head and tangling his greying hair.

He hums, his hand slipping between your bodies so he can grab your thigh and wrap it around his hip. He grinds absentmindedly against your thigh, achingly confined in his boxers, while his mouth continues sucking and licking your nipples like he’s a goddamn cat. You taste so good—softness and soap and the tang of perfume that still lingers on your skin—and Joel can only groan, his fingers squeezing your thigh so hard he’ll leave bruises.

“Joel!” It comes out as a helpless gasp, your head falling back into the mattress when you feel his free hand take a greedy handful of your ass. His mouth begins a path from your tits to your belly, lavishing your skin with his tongue as if he’s trying to permanently etch the memory of it into your body. It’s working.

“This fuckin’ perfume,” he groans against your skin, his nostrils flaring. He feels like a crazed animal set free.

“You like it?” tumbles breathlessly from your lips.

“It’s all I think about. Fuckin’ dream about it.” He presses his lips to the spot just above your belly button. “So goddamn sexy. Fuck, baby, I missed you.”

You’ll never, ever buy a different perfume again. His fingers hook in the waistband of your little shorts and the panties underneath, and your hips writhe. “Joel,” you mewl, looking down your body at him, the way he begins to slide them off. “I…”

I missed you, too. I missed you so much that my body ached. I can’t lose you again.

Like he can see the words flooding your mind through the wetness in your eyes, he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “Don’t have to say anything,” he tells you, moving back to give himself just enough room to remove your bottoms and reveal your pretty, wet pussy to him. “Just keep lookin’ at me.”

Wordlessly, you nod. Joel wraps his arms around your thighs, pulls you to the edge of the bed as he kneels at the foot of it, and buries his face in your pussy.

“Oh, shit!” It’s hard to keep your head upright, to keep your eyes fixed to his wide brown irises, when you watch his tongue dart out to lick your little clit. You can feel your cheeks burn when he spreads your folds with his thumbs just to have better access to his meal, slick and wanting before his eyes.

You cover your face with one hand to stifle your blush and your moan, but Joel growls right into your pussy, and you realise he doesn't like that. You drop your hand and fasten it in his hair, your fingers tugging him gently toward you. “Please,” you whimper. “Please, baby…”

The nickname falling from your mouth sends what's left of his blood soaring downward. Joel flattens his tongue against your folds and licks a hot, slow path to your clit. Your sweet sigh spurs him on, his fingers abandoning their grip on your thigh to spread your slick around your entrance. He dips two fingers into your hole and curls them toward him as his lips attach to your clit.

Your hips buck involuntarily with the jolts of white-hot pleasure that have you seeing double. “Feels so good,” you manage to choke out. It's an understatement. It feels like electric jolts to your system, a hundred lethal jabs to your veins.

“Mmm,” is Joel’s reply, the hunger in his eyes engulfing you. His moustache glistens with your wetness and you want to feel embarrassed about how quickly he's reeling you toward the edge of a cliff, but you can't. Not when he's looking up at you like you're the first snowfall in a desert and he's eating you out like you’re the only meal he's had in months. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he meticulously applies pressure to the spongy spot inside you.

You begin to shake but Joel does not relent. He licks and sucks your poor clit until your orgasm is a foregone conclusion and there's no going back. “I… Joel, I can’t— ah, fuck! Gonna… gonna come—!”

Your back arches and your head falls to the mattress, unable to hold itself up any longer. Joel fixes his mouth to your pussy and drinks down everything you give him, soaking his fingers while your thighs clamp around his ears. He wants to die like this, he thinks. He’ll go happily, your body muffling the sounds of the world outside.

Fuck, the way you look when you come. He’s never going to forget it. The scrunch of your brows, the fluttering of your lashes, the arch of your back. The fucking noises. The sweet, broken moans that slip past your lips, unrestrained. Unapologetic. It makes him so fucking proud of himself: you feel free with him, free to take and take. He’ll give you another if you let him. Jesus, he'll give you five more.

He’s already dipping his head again to lap up the rest of your orgasm and start over, but you gently tug him back with a little cry.

Your tits are heaving and he wants to put his mouth back on them. “You’ll kill me if you do that again.”

Joel chuckles, a little winded from his own arousal, pressing kisses from your navel back up to your chest. “I need you alive,” he mumbles, his rough hand caressing your thigh, which he's got wrapped around his hip.

“Please get naked,” you beg, your hands dropping from his shoulders to the hem of his T-shirt. Joel grins, sitting back so you can follow him and tug the shirt over his head, letting it tousle his hair some more. You admire the softness of his belly and the strong, broad shoulders; the arms whose muscles ripple when he reaches down and unbuckles his belt.

You must be practically salivating at the sight of your man undressing for you, whipping off his belt like it owes him money, because he gives you that smug look and turns you both around. Lying on his back, he positions you on top of his erection. The sudden jolt to your clit makes you jump. “Warn a girl,” you laugh.

Joel, now naked beneath you, digs his fingers into your hips and guides you along his hard length. You shudder, your thighs closing around his sides. “No fun in that,” he says. “I like seein’ you squirm.”

“Yeah?” You angle your hips to catch the head of his cock at your entrance and begin to sink down on him. He hisses, baring his teeth as he watches your bodies meet. “Not so cocky now, Miller.”

“I don’t know.” He reaches up and squeezes your tits in his big hands. “Still feelin’ pretty cocky. Sexiest woman on the fuckin’ planet is sitting on my dick.”

You give an experimental roll of your hips as he bottoms out, and stars turn to supernovas behind your eyes. You throw your arms forward to keep your balance and dig your fingertips into his chest. “That’s it, baby,” he groans, helping you grind yourself on his cock with his hands on your ass. “So fuckin’ pretty like this. So fuckin’ good.”

You continue to ride him, your thighs beginning to burn as his cock slides deliciously against your g-spot over and over again. “You're so big,” you gasp, your head lolling on your shoulders. “Fuck, I missed you.”

He grunts your name, his hand applying pressure to your lower belly. “You're takin’ it so well for me. My perfect girl.”

You gasp raggedly at the thick, heavy weight of him inside you, his warm hand at your navel, the way his dark eyes ground you in this moment. Here, no one can interrupt. The two of you are locked in orbit, and the blackness between the stars pushes in on you. You lace your fingers through his and rest them next to his head as you lean down and kiss him.

It’s a little sloppy with the movement of your body, but he isn't being greedy. He’s taking everything you want to give him and groaning happily into your mouth, your lips swollen and your chin chafing slightly from the scratch of his beard. “Lemme touch you,” he pleads whenever he finds breath. “Baby, I wanna touch you.”

Okay. Maybe he's being a little greedy. You release his hands and he surges upward, his back pinching again. He doesn't even register the pain. Everything is you. He wraps one arm around your waist to keep you balanced on his lap, his cock shifting inside you and his other hand cradling the back of your neck. You’re grabbing his shoulders for support as you begin to bounce up and down on him, ripping a growl from his throat.

It devolves until you're both animals. Your pussy gushes on him as you ride his cock, the sounds of sex obscene and the smell of your perfume clogging up the pathways in his brain. Your tits jiggle with every motion and Joel, his hand firm on your upper back, takes your nipples between his teeth—alternates between sucking and nipping and tugging. You moan his name, losing the ability to support your own head on your shoulders.

His eyes are glazed over, black with the promise of you, the knowledge of being yours the way you're his. You drop your forehead against his.

“Joel,” you whimper, fucking cock-drunk as he takes your tight cunt. You feel so good that he can't see straight, his fingers wrapping around your hair as your thighs slap against him. “I’m so close.”

“C’mon, baby girl,” he rasps, his nose sliding against your sweat-cooled temple. You cry out, and he nods his head, baring his teeth on your cheek. “I know, baby. Me too. Me too.”

Your thighs burn and your toes curl, your mouth dropping open in a feeble attempt to take in more air as you crumble in his arms. Your tits are squished up against his chest, sensitive and sore from his mouth. You grasp his biceps as you come, sinking all the way down onto his cock and fixing him to you.

“That’s it.” Joel helps you ride out your orgasm, going blind with the way your pussy grips him, pulsing around his length like the beating of a heart. He's lost his fucking mind. He's overcome with the need to keep himself lodged inside your cunt, slick and hot and needy (Christ, you're so needy, mewling and grasping at his body like you'll never have enough). He doesn't lift you off his cock. He won't let you go. He’ll fuck you like this every goddamn day if it means he can hold you this way at the end of it all.

Your lust-filled, bleary eyes drop to his lips, and Joel takes pity on your post-orgasmic haze, kissing you with a fervour you can't quite match. Your lashes are sprinkled with dewy tears. Your smile irradiates the darkening sky. You're the picture of beauty. For a moment, he wishes he were an artist.

“You didn’t come,” you mumble, leaning in for another kiss.

It's true. He's still hard and aching inside you, spilling precum into your pussy, but Joel rubs his hand up and down your back and says, “You nearly blacked out. Had to make sure you didn't keel over on me.”

You grin, contracting your muscles around his cock and watching his jaw tick. “I want you to come,” you whisper into his ear, kissing the spot just below it. “Inside me, please.”

“Jesus,” he huffs, his cock twitching inside you. “Get on your hands and knees.”

You go eagerly, arching your back all pretty for him when you get in position. He smooths his hand over your ass and says, “You know the drill, baby.”

You lift your upper half and curl your fingers around your headboard. Joel hums, satisfied by the bend of your body, and notches himself back inside you. The way your hole swallows him has his head tipping back in ecstasy, holding into your hips like they're two lifelines. “Honey, you gotta stay still,” he groans.

You hum, wiggling your ass back on him and earning a smack to it. “I already came. It’s your turn.”

He leans down and peppers kisses on your shoulder blades, just because he can. “And you're gonna give me another. Hold on tight.”

You do. And he shows no mercy. Joel’s hands keep your sore hips in place as he begins to pound you from behind, your hands firm on your headboard. “Joel!” you squeal, jolting forward on the bed.

The sound of his name passing through your lips makes his teeth clash together. “No runnin’,” he says, wrapping his hand around your hair for leverage. You gasp at the mixture of pleasure and pain as he fucks you deep, one hand detaching from the headboard and blindly reaching backward to grasp for his hip.

Joel takes pity on you, interlocking your fingers together at his side. Your hot, wet walls suck him in and contract relentlessly around him. Every instinct has him punching deeper, harder, intent on pulling another orgasm from you. The little voice at the back of his head screams at him: fuck her hard, make her scream, ruin her for every other man.

Not that he's letting you go. Not ever.

Your legs are beginning to shake, your upper half losing the strength to hold itself up. Luckily, he's got you, holding you by the hair and pulling you up toward his chest to deepen the angle. He bites down on the curve of your neck and tears a moan from your throat. “Oh my God.”

Joel grins into your sweet-smelling skin. “Got any room left in that pretty mouth for my name?” he says darkly. “Hmm? Who’s fuckin’ you?”

Your eyes roll back in your head when he takes a break from pounding you to grind, his length pressing against your g-spot. You can't come again. You can't. Except—he's going to make you. He's always been able to make you.

“Joel,” you whisper, your throat clicking with drool.

You can feel the shape of his mocking pout against your throat, kissing his way back up to your jaw and nipping at it. The scratch of his beard, the strength of his arms, the warmth of your intertwined fingers—you’re spiralling. Crashing. He's being a real asshole now. “Can't hear you,” he says. “I’m old, remember? Right ear doesn’t work so good.”

You want to snip at him just to take him down a few pegs, but he knows your body; and you know, deep in your soul, that you cannot lie to him. “Joel,” you moan, squeezing his hand, “it’s you. It's only you. I’m yours.”

“That’s right, baby.” He brings your joined hands to your front and presses your fingers against your clit. You keen, your body bowing. “Go on. Give me one more.”

You moan. “I… I c—”

“Yeah, you can. I’ll help if it gets too hard.” Smug, arrogant bastard. You rub your clit in fast circles, pinpricks of hot pleasure surging through your body and lifting the hairs on your arms. Joel’s pace inside you doesn’t slow or deepen. He’s steadfast, urging you to your peak so he can seek his own. And when you crash, your blood singing and your nerves needling, his hand moves from your hair to your throat, applying gentle pressure and refusing to let you fall to the mattress. You choke on your cries as you leave divots in your headboard with your fingers, clenching around his cock.

He works you through it, grunting his praises into your ear, your interlocked hands flexing at your clit while your muscles cease functioning. Joel tips off the edge with a series of groans, his voice breaking as he fixes his teeth to your shoulder. With how tightly you squeeze him, you can feel every spurt of hot cum he spills into your cunt, every pulse of his length as his balls empty inside you. Coupled with the stuttering thrusts against your backside, you can tell he’s trying to push as much of himself in as he can, his moans waning to near-whimpers as you help wring every drop from him.

Even then, when he gently lower you to the mattress and leaves kisses down your back, he’s using the head of his cock to collect the cum that’s dripped out of you and spreading it all over your used pussy.

Holy fuck.

Your thighs twitch with every gentle swipe over your clit. “Joel,” you moan brokenly, heaving with your face buried in your pillow.

You know he’s through with indulging himself when he drops onto his back next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. “C’mere.”

You’re already going, nuzzling your face into his lickable neck and nudging your nose against his scruffy jaw. He pulls your thigh up over his hip and caresses the length of it with his rough fingers. You’ve missed being held like this. Fuck, you missed him.

“Wasn’t kiddin’ about your perfume,” he says, the timbre of his voice rattling your ribcage as you inch closer to him. “Can’t keep my goddamn hands off you.”

You laugh. “Maybe it’s time you stopped blaming the perfume, Miller, and start blaming your self-control. Or lack thereof.”

At that, he lands a smack to the side of your thigh. “Don’t wanna control myself if I can have you like this.”

He’s got a point.

He turns his head toward you and brushes your hair away from your face. “You’ve got it good here,” he says softly. “It suits you.”

You bite your lip, warmth seizing your chest. “It’s a nice bed, too, huh?”

He grins. “Real nice.”

Now that he isn’t consumed with getting inside you, Joel can finally look around your bedroom. There are still unopened boxes and furniture parts scattered about the floor, but he’ll help you with that. It’s the walls that draw his attention. Pictures of you and your mom, you and some friends from New York, you with your yoga instructor Jill, both of you twisted into pretzels.

The periodic table on the wall above your desk (which is already piled with books) is what yanks at his heart like it’s tied with a fishing line. He doesn’t really know why. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re really staying.

“I’m gonna put you up on that wall,” you tell him, following his gaze.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let on how excited it makes him. “With duct tape or nails?”

You hum, taking his jaw between your thumb and forefinger. “I’ll put you in a frame first. Maybe I’ll keep you on my bedside table.”

He leans in and kisses your lips, then your nose. “Don’t wanna sleep holding me?”

You smile against his mouth. “I’ll take the real thing.”

Between classes, you decide to bring Joel lunch from the sub shop on campus. His job site is nearby, since they're working on an addition to a house in the neighbourhood. It’s Tommy Miller you see first, though, with his hard hat on and his bright orange vest tucked into his jeans like he's trying to make it stylish.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Tommy beams at you, squinting in the sunshine with his hand shielding his eyes. “Nice dress.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Nice vest.”

“Your dad’s in the office, but Joel’s fuckin’ around just over there.” He points to the site, where a small cluster of guys in similar dress are securing the foundation of the client's new walls.

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“Wait up.” He bends down and picks up a yellow hard hat, securing it on your head. “He’d kick my ass if I didn't make you wear it.”

You pat his shoulder. “Don't work too hard.”

He produces a cigarette from behind his ear and grins. “Don't worry about me.”

When you make it to Joel, he’s on his own, bent over blueprints on a table in the middle of the barebones room, rubbing a hand over his scruffy beard. “Remind me to remind you to get a haircut,” you tease.

He looks up, seeing you in that dress and that bright yellow hard hat, carrying a paper bag filled with sandwiches, and his face breaks into a grin as his heart swells three sizes. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey.” You sidle up next to him and place the bag on top of the blueprints. “I won't stay long, I promise. But you need to eat.”

He swipes his arm across his forehead to wipe the sweat away. “You brought me lunch?”

You unravel the bag and hand him his sub: ham and swiss on white. “Is it up to code?”

His crooked smile makes your heart flutter. “Best one I’ve ever seen.”

“You aren't even looking at it.”

“Don't need to. I’m fuckin’ hungry.”

You smile, tilting your head back so you can kiss him. He pulls away slightly, grimacing. “I’m a mess, baby. I’m sweaty.”

“Are you kidding me?” The sun and labour have left a sheen of sweat all over his tanned skin. His biceps are rippling with every slight movement and you want to sink your teeth into them. His hair is tousled and damp with sweat, curls peeking out from beneath his hat. It's a cruel fate, to be so close to someone so sexy when you know you can't take it anywhere.

Joel tugs you closer by the small of your back. “You're clean. I’m not.”

You raise a challenging brow. “So get me dirty.”

It’s thrilling to watch his pupils dilate, his hand tightening around the fabric of your dress. He ducks his head and kisses you softly, his thumb and forefinger on your chin. You let yourself indulge for as long as you can, your hands slipping beneath his bright vest. Until his coworkers approach, wolf-whistling at the pair of you.

“Miller, you dog!”

“Get a room!”

You hide your face in his chest while Joel takes off his hat just to smack one of his guys in the shoulder with it. “I ain’t payin’ you to sit around, assholes.”

“He payin’ you to date him, sweetheart?” says Chris, white-haired and bushy-bearded. “Blink twice.”

You pat Joel on the chest and give him a mortified look. “That's my cue to leave.”

He still looks like he wants to take on his coworkers in the boxing ring, but he loosens the tension in his jaw and meets your gaze, hiding your faces with his hat so he can kiss you again. He gives you a couple more along your jaw and your forehead, ending at your nose. “Thank you for lunch, baby. See you tonight.”

You frown, a slight panic squeezing your chest at the idea that you've forgotten an important date. There's nothing marked in your calendar. “Tonight?”

But he's smiling, all feathers and cockiness, fitting his hat back on his head. “Takin’ you out to dinner.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “I’ve got a test next block, so I don't have time to stop at home. Pick out my dress for me.”

He lifts his brows at the prospect, his eyes glittering. There's mischief in that rich brown. “Yeah?”

Your fingers, wrapped around his firm bicep, pulse gently. “Yeah.”

“Attack your test, pretty girl.” He gives your hip a squeeze. “I’ll do all the work tonight.”

Your teeth sink briefly into your lower lip. “Now I’m hungry.”

“Fuck physics! Fuck everything about it and the asshole who invented it!”

Joel can hear your voice carry before you've even opened the front door. The sound of your keys clanking around the bowl echoes in his ears like the ring of a bell. He hurries down the stairs, still pulling a shirt over his head, and meets you in the living room.

Fuck. You’re wound up. Your shoulders are pulled into your body and your chest heaves with every breath, your pretty face drawn in a miserable frown. “Hi,” you bite out, trying to reel in your anger. He doesn't deserve it. “How was work?”

Joel tries a smile. “I don’t think one person invented physics.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest. “Do not question me right now, Joel Miller.”

He does his best to quell his own amusement in favour of empathy. You're not particularly frightening when you're angry, but it's not your job to be. He's the frightening one in this relationship. “I’m sorry, baby. Test not go well?”

“I don't get it,” you croak. “I studied for days. Actual days.”

“I know you did.” He can live with eating dinner by himself, but he doesn’t like knowing you often forget to eat altogether when you're not with him.

“I’m at the library so often that the other people there know not to sit in my usual spot.” You put your head in your hands. “I made flash cards. I quizzed myself. I forced all of my friends to quiz me. I was halfway to forcing you to quiz me!”

“Baby, you know I would've quizzed you a hundred times.”

“Apparently, it wouldn't have helped,” you snap. “I failed. I don’t fail.”

He says your name, then repeats it when you don't respond. “You're spiralling.”

You shut your eyes, digging the heels of your palms into your lids and taking three deep breaths. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Don't gotta be sorry. You can yell at me all you want.”

“Never at you. Just… to you.” You pull back and wind your arms around his neck, scratching your nails at the back of his neck. “I didn't mean to get mad.”

“You’re like a hissing kitten when you get mad. I ain’t hurt.” He caresses your arms and ignores your harmless glare. “Wanna tell me what went wrong?”

You let out a long sigh through your nose. “I know what I screwed up on. I’m just frustrated with myself. I’m a good student, and this felt like a total waste.”

“It ain't a waste.” Joel’s pout means he's not happy with how you view yourself; it's different from his concentrated pout and his mocking pout. “You're the smartest person I know.”

You can't help the smile that splits your face. He's a man of few words most days, and he always knows exactly which ones to use. You know you're smart. It doesn't mean it doesn't feel really fucking nice to hear it with so much conviction. “Yeah?”

“Hmm. Smartest.” His lips brush your forehead, your nerves lighting up with sensation. “Prettiest.” He nudges his nose against yours. “Sweetest.” You let him part your lips with his, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. You let him distract you. And it's good to let go.

There will be other tests. There will be more chances. There's only one Joel.

He smells like fresh air, sawdust, and the cologne he always wears. You understand why he's obsessed with your perfume. This fucking cologne is certifiable in its ability to make you melt against him.

He tastes like mint. Joel’s hands are on your back, one palm digging into the space between your shoulder blades and the other into your lower back. You both stumble a bit when he gets eager, catching yourselves with a hand out on the sofa. He pulls away, his pupils blown wide, his chest expanding and depressing with each rapid breath.

“C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and guiding you upstairs.

“What are you—”

“Helpin’ you de-stress.”

“From the looks of the situation in your jeans, you might be the one who needs de-stressing.”

Joel huffs, turning into the bathroom. “This ain't about me, baby. Take off your dress.”

You raise your brows but unzip the dress and step out of it, leaving it in a pool on the floor. Joel turns on the hot water in the shower and appraises your body at the same time you admire his, strong and sturdy and sexy. His erection visibly strains his pants before he gives himself some relief, shedding all of his clothes, too. His cock taps his stomach, making you rub your thighs together as the thought of having it inside you—always a good relaxant.

“C’mere.” You put your hand in his and step into the shower, drenching yourself in the scalding water. You can feel the steam melt your bones, easing the knots in your shoulder from working yourself up onto a ledge. Joel steps in behind you, pressing his mouth to your shoulder.

You sigh, lacing your fingers through his, where they rest against your hips. “Mmm. This is nice.”

You can feel his dick sit heavily against the swell of your ass, but he isn't paying attention to his own needs. He's focusing all of his energy on you: kissing your shoulders, caressing your waist and your belly, sinking his teeth into the crook of your neck like he's a vampire. He’ll gently soothe the marks with his lips when he's done, leaving his claim all over you and fizzling the tightness in your muscles with every attentive touch. All while the water beats at your breasts, trickles down between your thighs, and warms your body.

Joel detaches the shower head from its mount on the wall, tipping your head backward so he can lean down and slant his mouth over yours. “Keep holdin’ onto me,” he says, guiding the spray of water over your chest, slowly making a path down your sternum.

You nod, sinking into his deep brown eyes as the jet meets your thighs, burrowing deeper until—

“Joel,” you gasp, choking on your own breath. He’s guided the shower head over your clit, the pleasure scalding and sudden. You grasp his wrist, writhing against the cold metal while hot bursts of water consistently meet your bundle of nerves.

He tuts like you're doing something wrong, frowning against your cheek. “No moving,” he says. The order resonates through your chest and wriggles into your brain. “Does it feel good?”

You moan when he pinches and rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Feels so good.”

He takes your earlobe between his teeth. “Relax. You're still tense.”

You sigh, squirming under the heavy spray of water against your sensitive clit. Joel keeps his nose buried in you, inhaling your scent, indulging in every way he can. Your wet hair is plastered to your skin, your buttery eyes meeting his under dew-slick lashes. “Joel,” you moan, your stomach tightening as you try to find a grip on the shower wall. “Please…”

“What do you need, baby?” He kisses your jaw, angling the shower head upward so it sprays harder against your clit. Your eyes roll back into your head, your hips bucking against the metal and your hand blindly grasping. It finds his arm, wrapped around your waist from behind. He lets you dig your nails into his tanned skin while your composure dwindles.

“Just like that,” you cry out, the pleasure rolling over your body in catastrophic waves. The pressure is so intense that you have to blink away black spots, Joel’s lips on your neck pulling you back down to the ground.

“I got you, baby girl. I’m not gonna let you fall.” His voice is the rumble of thunder, and your orgasm crackles through you like lightning. “Let go. C’mon, baby.”

Your moans turn hoarse and your thighs tremble uncontrollably as you topple over the edge. Joel keeps his hand wrapped around your waist like a seat belt, holding you firm against his chest.

The spray of water lights up a thousand nerve endings and turns you into liquid fire. He feeds praise into your ears and lets you ride the shower head until your body settles, shaking but satiated. He secures it back into the holder and turns you in his grasp, cupping your face and kissing you deeply.

“Mmm, that was nice,” you say lamely, still a little weak on your feet. Joel hums in kind, going right back in for another kiss, his lips plush and warm against yours. You wrap your arms around him and press your palms against his strong back as the spray covers you both. His dick is hard and leaking against your belly, but he isn't making a move. He's just kissing you, like it's all the satisfaction he needs.

“Have I told you today— mmmph —how much I like you?”

He pulls away, his eyes glittering with a boyish joy. “Not today.”

“Well.” You reach between your bodies and wrap your fingers around the base of him, squeezing softly. His groan stutters, his forehead falling to yours. “I like you. A lot.”

“Fuck, baby.” Joel grasps your wrist. “This ain't about me,” he says again. You know he's only trying to convince himself.

“What if this is something I want?” you say with a wicked smile, nipping the tip of his nose.

The hollow of his throat caves with a shuddering breath. “I’m a grown man who can—fuckin’ Christ—take care of himself.”

“Yeah?” You pout, gently stroking him until your hand is wrapped around the head. His cock twitches in your grasp. “But it's so much more fun when your girl does it for you. Isn't it?”

He's losing control; you can see it in his eyes. “Wash up,” he bites out. “And when you get out, you’ll bend over the counter.”

You bite your lip, arousal clambering back up your spine. “And what will you do to me?”

Joel grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Whatever I goddamn want.”

You've never finished showering so fast.

When your birthday comes, it isn’t the warm press of his body next to you that drags you from your peaceful sleep. It’s the sound of Joel’s fire alarm blaring in your ears. And he’s not in bed.

You don’t even have time to blink yourself awake, stumbling out of the bed still half-tangled in the sheets and hopping haphazardly into his shirt and a pair of boxers. You can’t find your own clothes; he was adamant in them being as far away from your body as possible once he drove you back from the club last night. The alarm screeches as you bolt down the stairs, rounding the corner in your frantic search for your boyfriend—and a fire.

It’s when you skid to a halt in the kitchen that you finally find him, standing in front of what is definitely not a fire. At least the alarm has stopped beeping.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Joel turns to you, holding a plate of black squares. Smoke still curls out from the toaster. “Did I wake you up?” he asks, as if he isn’t balancing the incriminating evidence in his hands.

“No, honey, the smoke alarm woke me up,” you say, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Are you okay?”

There’s a towel slung over his shoulder, but it doesn’t look to be doing much good. He rushes to you and hands you a steaming cup of coffee. “Did this right at least,” he grumbles. “Tried to cook you breakfast. Fuckin’ burned the toast.”

Despite the abrupt wake-up call of the fire alarm, you’re overcome with a dizzying wave of affection. His brown eyes peer down at you like he’s a puppy awaiting a treat, and his greying hair is deliciously tousled. He wanted to make you breakfast: Joel Miller, the man who eats only to survive. It’s hard not to love him. As if you’ve ever bothered to resist.

“White bread is bad for you, anyways,” you say, bringing him down to you with a hand at the nape of his neck and kissing him tenderly. “Thank you, Joel.”

A low rumble vibrates in his chest as he blindly sets the plate of burnt toast on the table so he can wrap his arms around your back. “Happy birthday, baby,” he says, kissing his way from your lips to your jaw, unconcerned with any morning breath you may have.

You pull away and grin up at him, raking your fingers through his hair. “Is there hope for the eggs?”

“If you don't distract me,” he says, caressing your arms.

“Mmm. Sounds boring.” You press your chest to his and ghost your lips over his neck. Your mouth on him earns a soft groan, but it also earns a slap to your ass.

“I’m tryin’ to be good to you,” he says, cupping your face in his hands. “Don't make it hard.”

“But I love making you hard.”

“You're funny, baby.” Joel splays his fingers over the small of your back. “Sit down and relax.”

“And let you burn down your kitchen?” You click your tongue, giving his ass a pinch for good measure. “How about we work on breakfast together?”

Joel pouts. “It’s your—”

“My birthday is going to be amazing, because I’m with you.” You lace your fingers together. “I can get back in bed when it's done, and you can bring it to me. How's that sound?”

“Good.” He kisses the top of your head. “It sounds good.”

He brings the poached eggs on toast to you on a tray, complete with a brand-new cup of coffee. Joel’s not much of a breakfast person, so he sits next to you as you balance the tray on your lap, drench your eggs in sriracha, and dig in. The problem is trying not to get crumbs on his sheets or topple the tray onto the bed.

Joel doesn't seem to mind. He idly rubs your back below the hem of his sweatshirt, sipping his own coffee every now and then. The sun shines golden through the window in his bedroom, illuminating your glowing skin and the light in your eyes. He’s captivated by the beauty that radiates from you. He can't keep a houseplant alive, so he has none, but he's convinced your smile could revive them. It's added years to his own life.

“You’ve got work today,” you remind him, setting the tray on the bedside table and facing him with your legs crossed.

“I called in sick.”

Your brows shoot up. “Joel.”

His hand shifts to stroke your thigh, giving reassuring squeezes. “Baby, I’m not spending your birthday at a job site. Tommy can handle it while I’m gone.”

“And nobody on the site knows that it’s your girlfriend’s birthday?”

“It's bad enough hearin’ Tommy flirt with you every goddamn chance he gets,” he says, lifting your legs up onto his lap. “Don't wanna hear it from the guys, too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up onto his lap. “If you want me to wear a shirt that says your name on it, just say so.”

His thumb traces one of your lower vertebrae. “That an option?”

“Tommy doesn't know boundaries when it comes to teasing his brother.” Your finger twirls a lock of his grey hair. “The others know better than to piss you off.”

He grins, nudging his nose against yours. “Which means they won't question me when I tell ‘em I’m sick.”

“You win this round.” Your lips meet his in a slow, sweet kiss. His hand cradles your jaw while the other presses at your back, guiding you closer. You taste like coffee and toothpaste and you smell like his body wash, and it's enough to send blood surging downward. He groans faintly into your mouth and pulls back.

“Hey,” you protest. “It’s my birthday. I can kiss you as much as I want.”

“And if you do, I won’t be able to think straight long enough to give you your present.” To punctuate his point, he grinds up against you, letting you feel the hardness in his jeans against your thigh.

You shift so you're straddling his hips. “Thinking straight is overrated. Come back here.”

Joel hesitates, his lips parted, and your heart stops with the implication. “What did you do?” you demand.

“Mike may have called me,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “and we have to be at your place in an hour. Consider this your warning for your surprise party.”

You gape at him. “Joel!”

He cups your face in his hands and kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. You’re annoyed with how easily it loosens the tense muscles in your shoulders. “Baby, he wanted to surprise you, and I know you're too much of a—”

“If you say control freak, I’m breaking up with you.”

Joel places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes. “Be honest with me. Would you have wanted a surprise?”

You grit your teeth because no, of course not. And he knows it. You would have happily let the surprise go without warning, just to please your dad. But Joel’s got his warm, work-worn hands on your body and it melts all your neurotic energy away. “You're lucky I like you so damn much.”

“Yeah?” His face gets a bit closer to you, seeking your mouth, as his hands migrate to your waist.

You bite your bottom lip to smother your smile. “Yeah.”

Joel hums, inching his boxer shorts up your thighs. “Tell me all about it, baby.”

“It’s my birthday,” you tease, guiding his hands to your tits. He palms them greedily over the sweatshirt. “If you want it so bad… lick it out of me.”

Joel’s eyes turn coal-black. “What did I say about distractions?” His voice is the grate of boots along concrete.

“We have time,” you purr. “Unless you don't think you can make me come before the hour is up.”

“How did I get so goddamn lucky,” he grunts, sliding his hands under your sweatshirt and shucking it up over your head. “You're a fuckin’ dream.”

You shriek with laughter when he rolls you over, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your sternum and flicking his tongue over your perky nipples. He replaces it with his hands when his mouth migrates down your belly until he’s kissing all over your stomach, dragging his boxers off your legs.

“Mmm.” You grin, your eyes fluttering shut as you rake your fingers through his hair. “I just decided—I don't need a present. This is all I want.”

Joel huffs into your skin. “Good thing it ain't anything special.”

“It’s from you. It is special.”

Looking up and resting his chin on your belly, Joel squeezes your hips. His eyes are gooey, warm, soft enough to roll around your palms like velvet. He's never been one for tooth-aching declarations. He’s good at telling you the truth. He's good at reminding you that not everything requires a panicked response. He's good at grounding you in the world with a single look. And it’s why he doubles his efforts to make you feel good, sinking down your body and burying his face in your pussy.

You both arrive at your apartment with minutes to spare. Thankfully, your dad and Joel collaborated on dinner during their illicit phone call and decided to order from your favourite shawarma place in town. Joel takes the liberty of hanging a colourful streamer that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY. There was no time to pick up a cake on the way, given Joel spent forty minutes between your legs this morning, so you decide to make one.

It gives him the opportunity to show his first gift to you: a box stuffed with new measuring cups, spoons, cupcake wrappers, cookie cutters (shaped like hearts, stars (for Texas, he says), and beakers), and, at the very bottom—

“My mom’s old recipe book,” he says, scratching the back of his neck and looking sheepish.

You gape at him, a painful needling behind your nose as tears well up. “Joel,” you say weakly. “I can't accept this.”

“I never used it. I can't cook for shit, and she never trusted Tommy with it.” Joel tucks your hair behind your ear. “I know for a fact she would love you. She'd want you to have it.”

You sniffle, your fingers tracing the edge of the photograph on the inside cover: a teenage Joel and his mom in his childhood kitchen. She’s grinning, pinching his cheeks between her thumb and fingers, while he tries to smile. “She was beautiful,” you say. It’s all you can manage.

“She was.” Joel smiles down at the picture. “Had this sixth sense for when we were about to get into trouble. Always knew exactly what to say, what to do.”

“So did my mom,” you tell him. “I was a good kid, but I was always high-strung. A little lonely. She was my best friend; always knew when I needed someone to talk to.”

“Sounds like they'd like each other,” he says, his hand idly rubbing your back.

You turn the page to find more images, blinking away your fond tears. “Yeah. I think they would.”

He indicates an image of Tommy, who must have been ten at the time, and a group of his friends. “Back in our day, we had to go to our friends’ houses if we wanted to go out and start shit.”

“You’re ageing yourself, Miller,” you say teasingly, wrapping your arm around his and guiding his face to yours. Before you kiss him, you meet his gaze and brush his hair back from his face. “Thank you. This is beyond thoughtful, and I love it.”

His expression softens into that look he only reserves for you. It’s serene and heavy-lidded, his smile a bit crooked. It’s one of the few times you see him utterly relaxed. Naked. “Happy birthday,” he says softly. His nose brushes yours and your lips meet.

You're wearing a ratty orange-and-white University of Austin T-shirt and a pair of jeans that aren't at all sexy, but he still touches you like you're the most radiant creature on the planet. Like you're a goddess.

His tongue parts your lips and slides along yours, your body bowing against his as you wind your arms around his neck. Your back bumps the counter while Joel crowds you, inadvertently knocking the mixing bowl to the floor in his overzealous attempts to get his hands on your ass. “Shit,” he says, pulling away. “Sorry.”

At the same time, your buzzer sounds. “Shit,” you parrot. “That’s Dad.”

You watch his eyes sharpen through the haze and the heaving of his chest flatten to a typical rate, although his hair is still admirably tousled. You imagine you don't look much more put-together.

When you at last let him in, he tackles you with a hug. “Surprise!”

“Dad!” you squeal through your laughter.

“Hey, hon,” he says, lifting you and twirling you around in the doorway. He’s holding a gift bag that bumps against your hip. “Happy birthday.”

“I’m so glad you could make it.” You usher him inside, shutting the door behind you. “Joel’s in the kitchen.”

He grimaces. “And that’s a good idea because…?”

“He’s not touching anything. I’m making a cake.” He sets the gift bag on your coffee table and joins Joel in the kitchen.

“Hey, asshole. You've already made a mess in here.”

The bowl has been salvaged from the floor, but the measuring cups and the cookie cutters are strewn about the countertop. Joel pulls Mike into a brief hug and slaps his back as a way of greeting. “That would be your daughter’s mess.”

“My daughter doesn't know what the word mess means.”

“He’s got a point.” You begin to collect Joel’s gift back into the box and tuck it out of the way. You lie his mother's book on top, smoothing over the cover with your palm. “Both of you can leave the kitchen. Pretty please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” says Joel, his hand brushing across your back and his lips pressing against your temple as he exits the kitchen.

Your dad sits on the stool on the other side of the pass-through window. “You feel old yet?”

“No older than you, Dad.”

“Smartass.”

Joel sidles up to the pass-through as you're blending your wet ingredients together. “Hey, baby. Turn around.”

When you do, a bright flash obstructs your vision. Joel’s holding your Polaroid camera, plucking out the picture and grinning down at it. “If you're gonna take a picture of me, you should be in it,” you say.

“I ain't as pretty as you.”

It’s a good candid. You, slightly frazzled, with a bowl and electric beater in your arms. Flushed and beautiful. He tucks it inside his back pocket.

“I beg to differ.”

Mike slaps him on the back. “You want a beer?”

“Nah, I drove.” Joel gives you a look. “Someone went out on a pre-birthday bender last night.”

You roll your eyes. “It was a Friday night. Didn't even mix my liquors.”

Mike lifts a brow. “You need a babysitter when you go out?”

“Don't be condescending. I had a babysitter. Leigh.”

Joel snaps another picture, this time of you and Mike, mid-mock-argument. “It's like watchin’ two mice in a screaming match.”

Mike plucks the camera out of his hands and takes a picture of Joel instead. “Look at that. Still old as shit.”

Joel slaps him square in the chest and goes for a headlock, but Mike evades him. You reach through the window and snatch the picture out of your dad’s hand. In it, Joel’s looking at you, a crooked grin on his face. His eyes are warm and the silver in his hair illuminated by the fuzzy glow of the Polaroid. He looks happy.

“This is going on the wall.”

“See, Mike?” Joel sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. His thumb idly caresses your hip bone. “I get the wall.”

“Miller, if you don’t stop feeling up my daughter right in front of me—”

You pin him with a glare. “Dad.”

“Just because I’m not actively knockin’ his lights out doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I’m still your father.”

Joel just kisses your temple and rests his chin on your shoulder. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to bother?”

You decide not to point out that technically, he’s the one bothering his girlfriend. At least he deigns to help you scoop the batter into the cake pans. Later, when the cake is cooling on the table and your dad’s girlfriend Melissa arrives, music plays idly on your Victrola (Joel’s second gift to you) while the four of you lounge around your apartment. Your dad and Melissa occupy two plush green chairs, having shifted them closer to one another to hold hands. You’re on the sofa, surrounded by gift bags and Joel, whose lap you’ve taken residence on. He drums his fingers along each of your ribs as you delve into the gift bag from your father.

A delicate, beautiful necklace with your birth month’s gemstone embedded in the pendant (Melissa helped pick it out, he confesses). A bar cart he made himself. And a card with a neatly-written message inside:

There's a lot I could write here, but I want to keep it short and sweet, since we’d both rather be eating cake. I’ve loved you your whole life, but it was the first phone call that taught me how much of an idiot I really was. It’s easy to love someone like you. You're sweet, and you're smart, and you love so strongly. It’s a crazy feeling to be your dad. Kind of like looking right at the sun.

To all the years we’ll make up for. Let’s start with this one. I love you, kiddo.

—Dad

Melissa surprises you with a present she got herself: a culinary home garden kit, sprouting with the beginnings of basil, parsley, and cilantro. It doubles as a housewarming gift, she says with a tinge of pink on her cheeks. You have great light in here. And they smell great.

From Joel, his penultimate present: a French press machine.

You're unashamed of the happy tears you cry over their thoughtfulness. The card goes on your refrigerator; the herbs sit happily on the windowsill; your French press is tucked next to the bag of grounds Joel keeps in your place for when he drinks the light roasts you hate; the bar cart is filled with all the liquor Sonya gifted you; and Joel helps clasp the necklace around your throat, settling the pendant in its hollow while he litters kisses all over your shoulders and back.

That night, on the couch with your legs thrown over his lap, you and Joel sit face-to-face even though the darkness turns his features into a grainy half-image, you let out a long, happy sigh.

“Best birthday ever.”

“I don't know,” he says, his voice low and raspy, “mine was pretty damn good.”

“Mmm. But this time, you can fuck me.” You grin when his grip on your waist tightens where he's been skating his fingers up and down your curves.

“Yeah, I can.” Joel grins, ducking his head to kiss you. “Ain't over yet, baby. Gotta get into somethin’ pretty so I can take you out.”

His final present.

“This isn't pretty?” You lift up your flour-coated shirt to expose your tits.

Joel’s eyes hone in on them like they're beacons in the dark. He tugs you closer until he can situate you on his lap and take a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, your chest pushing out, giggling when he leaves a few teasing bites. “Okay,” you say breathlessly, “I learned my lesson.”

“Mmm-mmm,” he grumbles, blindly tearing your shirt off your head. His tongue circles each nipple and wets them generously, taking his sweet time with your body. His slow, deliberate pace has you writhing on his lap.

“Sam bought me the black dress I’ve been eyeing forever,” you tell him, trying to distract yourself from the onslaught of pleasing jolts to your core. “It’s a good option for a dinner.”

“Mhm,” is all he says, still lapping at your right nipple like he's a fucking cat.

“Assuming, of course, you're taking me somewhere nice. Are you?”

Joel opens his eyes and pins you with a stern look. Let me take control, he'd say, if his mouth wasn't full.

“I just”—you're cut off with a strained moan when he bites down again, a warning to stop worrying so much—“ah, fuck, forgot what I was about to say.”

Chuckling, he litters kisses up your sternum and nuzzles his face in the juncture of your neck and jaw. “Wear the black,” he says, inhaling your dark, sexy scent. “Can you be ready for eight?”

“Can you?” You stroke his hair away from his face as he rests comfortably against you. “This hair takes a long time to tame.”

“I’ll be ready.” He kisses your jaw and you feel his lashes tickle you as he closes his eyes and groans. “Just gonna have to jerk off first.”

You roll your eyes and pull away, giving him an affectionate smile before you disappear into your bedroom to change.

Joel showers before you so he can take care of his erection. You shimmy into the long, elegant dress, paint your lips, and meet him in the doorway to ask his help with your strappy heels.

As he slips the second shoe onto your foot, you tell him you love him.

For a moment, eyes meet in the dim light. The next, he's grinning, and telling you the exact same thing as he closes the straps around your ankles.

“Ow. Goddammit.”

“You gotta stretch out your back, honey.”

“This shit hurts. It ain't my fault.”

“Your position is all wrong.”

“Well, get over here and help me, then.”

You sigh, dropping from Warrior I so you can shuffle over to Joel. He’s trying, and you really love him for it, but it's no wonder he's in pain. You softly tut, placing a hand on his belly. “Picture your bellybutton going in toward your spine. It’ll take the pressure off. And don’t twist your torso to the side. You have to keep facing forward.”

“Jesus,” grumbles Joel, trying to fix his posture. “Too many rules. I thought you just made it all up.”

“Everything is made up. But this”—you gently press down and help align his spine properly—“will help. Your back will thank you.”

Joel huffs, refusing to admit that he feels the pressure on his lower back alleviate once you fix him up. “I deserve thanks for doin’ this shit with you.”

You grin, shifting around to the front of him so you can unbutton a couple buttons at the bottom of his flannel shirt, leaning in to leave a flurry of kisses over his soft belly. “And what kind of thanks are you looking for, Mr. Miller?”

Joel looks down his body at you. You're so cute, smiling up at him like you aren't inches away from his dick. “I can think of a few things.”

“You keep on thinking,” you tell him, “and we’ll get into the next position.”

He groans. “Can you at least do it naked? Jesus.”

“If you're good.” You button up his shirt again and move back to your yoga mat. “Ready?”

“You're a real fuckin’ tease, baby.”

“Tell me all about it, Joel.” You roll your eyes fondly, shifting onto your ass. “Follow my lead.”

Joel Miller is not flexible. He's remarkably capable of other feats, and he's never let this drawback affect him when it comes to your sex life, since he's usually twisting you into a pretzel. Still, you know this will be good for him. If you can get him to stop grumbling about it for a minute or two.

You press the soles of your feet together in front of you and straighten your back. “Just like this,” you say, watching him copy you. His eyes, however, are fixed on the space between your thighs.

You’re smart enough to understand when you need to take your lumps.

“Joel.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want me to get naked?”

“Yeah.”

Maybe you'll try again another day. You’ve got all the time in the world.

THE END.

#kiwisbell's fics #whiskey sour #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us fic

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obsessedasusual · 2 years

Text

We’re Only Human - Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

xReader

Summary: Jake Seresin is many things, but above all else he just wants to be loved.

Warnings: swearing, sad!jake, insecurity

Note: 1.8k - ITS SAD BOI HOURS OVER HERE BESTIES!! I haven’t posted in the longest time and I finally finished one of my many (many) wips during my lunch break - best I post it now before I just, don’t.

Read Part Two here!

Jake Seresin was many things.

He was a respected, decorated naval aviator who had truly found his life’s calling up in the skies, high above the clouds. When you had first met him, you’d found how much he loved his career endearing and even refreshing. He had described to you the feeling of adrenaline that hit from taking off the runway when you’re the one at the controls, you could do nothing but smile at how animated he was as he talked.

He was an early bird. You put it down to the Navy in him if you had to guess. He was always awake before you, sometimes at downright ungodly hours. He’d leave you with a soft kiss to your shoulder when he rose from the bed as quietly as he could, smiling fondly at you as you cozied further into the warm duvet.

He was protective. That was probably the one trait about the pilot that hadn’t surprised you when you started seeing each other. Someone throws you off balance while making your way through a packed bar? Jake’s there to keep you on your feet while shooting daggers at the perpetrator. Being talked over while you’re trying to politely place your order? Don’t even worry, Jake’ll soon sort them out.

He was a momma’s boy who would do anything for his mother in a heartbeat. The first time Jake had taken you home to meet his parents you were amazed at how quickly this big, macho Lieutenant transformed into a sweet, southern gentleman for his mom. It became an inside joke between yourself and his father.

He was an amazing cook. Date number three was when Jake had invited you back to his place and wowed you with an array of tapas style dishes, making a game out of it and asking you to score every one out of ten. His usually confident smile had turned surprisingly shy when you raved about each one and rated well above ten.

But was a hater of dips. ‘I have a perfectly fine room-temperature potato chip,’ he would argue, ‘why would I go and ruin that with a cold dip that’s gonna kill the flavour completely of said room-temperature potato chip?’

Jake Seresin was many things… but quiet wasn’t one of them.

Which is why you were confused when he didn’t laugh at the gag on ‘That 70’s Show’, which happened to be one of his favourite sitcoms. Instead he stared at the wall behind the TV, fork resting in his bowl of pasta from when he had gone to take another mouthful… and then hadn’t.

“Jake?” Your voice seemed to snap him out of his daze as his head shot to face you, instantly planting a smile on his face when his eyes met yours.

“Hm?”

“You okay?” An emotion that didn’t fit with the smile he was currently sporting flew through his eyes at your question.

“Better than okay, baby.” With that he turned back to face the TV and resumed his eating, ignoring your look of concern as you kept your eyes on him for a moment longer before finally following suit.

He didn’t speak for the rest of the episode, and remained quiet into the next.

So, no, it wasn’t like Jake talked twenty-four seven. But this type of quiet… this was different. It was the vacant look in his eyes that had you wondering.

As much as you wanted to question him further, you knew he would talk to you when he was ready.

And maybe he was.

You made a move to reach over the coffee table to grab the two now abandoned dinner plates and begin the clean up. When you stood and turned away from the couch his voice stopped you from moving any further.

“Do you think I’m an asshole?”

When you turned back to face him he was staring once again at the wall behind the TV.

“What?”

He sighed and leant his forehead against his fist before finally turning his head to you and repeating his question, quieter this time, “Am I an asshole?”

You stood frozen in your spot, eyes narrowing at his question, “No… you’re not an asshole. What makes you ask that?”

Jake bit at his lip and turned away from you, pulling yourself out of your trance. You placed the plates back on the coffee table and returned to your seat next to him, sitting criss-cross on the sofa.

He stayed facing away from you and nodded to himself, “I’m an asshole.”

“What’s going on, Jake?” You reached out to lightly pull at his forearm, enticing him to turn to you.

When his eyes met yours your concern only grew. His eyes were usually full of life and happiness, now, they seemed to hold hurt.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Phoenix has always thought I was. And now the whole group does. Thought that from the first time they met me. Two weeks ago,” he was rambling a bit, as he did when he was a bit worked up but you let him continue, trying to pick up on what the issue was, “I don’t even know what I did that night but everyone made up their minds apparently. And Bradshaw didn’t help the cause.”

You knew his history with Lieutenant Bradshaw was rocky. And you knew a lot of it stemmed from insecurity, mostly on Jake’s part.

He took a deep breath before continuing, “I said something dumb today.”

His eyes darted from yours to all over the room, “Something fuckin’ dumb. In front of everyone. That I shouldn’t have said and I knew I shouldn’t have said, but I did. And now everyone hates me, well… more. Even fuckin’ Javy told me off. Can you believe that? Javy, of all people.”

As long as you’d known Jake, you’d known Javy. And he had always had Jake’s back. So that revelation was actually a little surprising.

A beat of silence passed between the two of you before you decided to speak up softly, “What did you say?”

This time when he met your eyes you saw remorse and guilt, “Bradshaw… his parents are, you know,” dead, “And I found out that his old man was Maverick’s WSO, and was flying with him when his dad… you know.”

“Okay…?” You trailed off, not really knowing where this was going.

He rubbed harshly at his eyes as if he was trying rub away the memory, “And I… Jesus fucking Christ. I told everyone. Right in the middle of training. Just… laid it all out there. Like it was my story to tell.”

Oh shit.

“He launched at me, he was ready to kill me. Fair enough too. And I, I kept going. Kept poking the fuckin’ bear.” He took a deep breath, “Everyone jumped in, pulled us apart. Mav dismissed us. But God if looks could kill.”

So that’s why he was home before you today.

“Why’d you say it?” You asked after a moment. Jake closed his eyes at your question and shook his head.

“Because I’m an asshole? I don’t know. I don’t know why I said it.”

You had a pretty good idea as to why he said it, “I think you do know why you said it, Jake.”

He looked helpless and downright embarrassed at your words.

Jake was the best of the best. That wasn’t an exaggeration nor a secret. He worked tirelessly to get his skill level to where it was today. And that had meant accidentally burning some bridges along the way, resulting in not too many friendships.

Rooster on the other hand, while also an incredibly skilled pilot, had a habit of being loved everywhere he went. He was a very popular man. And that irked Jake something terrible.

Jake was jealous.

And the thought of his skill set potentially being overlooked because of some weird form of aviator nepotism? That didn’t sit well with him at all.

“I’m such an asshole.”

“You need to apologise to Rooster.” You offered gently, resting your hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, “I know. Fuck I know. But how do you apologise for something like that?”

His eyebrows scrunched together when he looked at you.

“You just… do. You need to mean it, and I know you do. Leave it tonight, but tomorrow. You need to talk to him.”

“Bet you think I’m a shitty person now, huh?”

There it was again, the insecurity.

You shook your head at his statement and took his hand, rubbing your thumb across the back of it, “Jake I know you. Better than anyone in that group. You’re not an asshole, I wouldn’t be here if you were. But you do need to work on letting people in, and acknowledging other people’s skills.”

He made a move to cut you off but you got in first, “Have you told Phoenix how in awe of her flying you are?”

His mouth snapped shut at that.

He’d raved about her skills years ago when they were deployed together, and again since they’d been training together over the past few weeks.

“It wouldn’t hurt to start acting like you care.”

“I do care!”

“I know that. I know you care too much. But Jake, you don’t always have to be this big macho man. No one’s going to think any less of you.”

He laced his fingers with yours and squeezed tightly, head tilted back as he took in what you were saying.

“God, you could do so much better than me.”

You smiled softly at the side of his face before leaning in to kiss his cheek, “I don’t want anyone else but you.”

The light red that dusted his cheeks made you grin. You wrapped both your arms around one of his and snuggled in closer, resting your head on his shoulder, revelling in the kiss he pressed to your hair.

It was a while before Jake spoke up again, “What if he won’t talk to me? What if he, what if everyone, actually hates me now?”

You felt your heart break for your partner. Nevermind the awards he got. Nevermind the records he set. Jake Seresin just wanted companionship. He’d found that with you and Javy, and he wanted that with his squad. He wanted what they already had with each other.

“You can only try, Jake. He’ll probably be pissed, rightfully so. But you have to try.”

You felt his head nod against his, “I will.”

Turning your head slightly you kissed his clothed shoulder, “I love you, Jake Seresin.”

“I love you too. So much.”

Jake Seresin was many things.

Above all else he was simply human.

#jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick

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goshilovemesomemonsters · 11 months

Note

… I hear you.. AND BOY DOES THAT GIVE ME IDEAS!! 🤩

An image of how Reader heals the Pilgrim gang~

✨Wukong✨

Gentle as can be~ takes her time to slowly heal every possible (or imagined) scratch and bruise, all with a loving hand~ …. And while teasing the absolute shit outa him… 😜

🤝🏻 Sandy 🤝🏻

Her bestie? Her BFF?? The go to method for healing the big blue good-boy™️ is of course their secret best-friends handshake~ 😎

😐 Pigsy 😐

Every time this guy tries to go in for a hug.. and every time he gets slapped in the face.. healing through violence… somewhat contradictory? Perhaps, but it works~

🙏🏻 Tang 🙏🏻

… She pinches his nose in a firm grip, and start lecturing him.. “repeat after me, I will NOT listen to Pigsy and go near the obviously suspicious Bogota in the distance, especially when everyone else tells me not to!” basically a Mom moment~

🐴 Ao Lie 🐴

Gentle head pats.. after his own Father sentenced him to death, the poor kid deserves some form of genuine affection.. another Mom moment~

YOU. You get it.

And if you don’t mind me adding on to this~ because this in turn gave me more ideas lmao

Honestly Wukong doesn’t even go to you for healing to begin with. He’s the Monkey King??? Immortalx6???? He doesn’t need your healing he can just heal himself 🤨. Yes it does hurt him to have to regrow or repair himself, I imagine it’s less that he heals himself and more just…speeds up the process of the injuries healing themselves meaning he gets a fuckton of pain all at once, but given he is both immortal and impatient, he doesn’t really think much of the pain…or he tries to tell himself that anyway.

But after one of the battles where he’s forced to go to Guanyin for help he finds himself angrily sulking because he doesn’t like having to ask for help. But then you come over and just…place a friendly hand on his shoulder and heal him. He is prepared for it to hurt like how he heals himself but it doesn’t?? In fact it feels nice??? What the Fuck™. He could have been getting THIS the whole time??

Every battle after that he is first in line to get healed (listen it’s just quicker if you heal him ok don’t look too deep into it-) even going so far as to push Pigsy out of the way at points. Don’t come between the monkey and his (excuse to get your hands on him) heals. See he thought he knew what he was getting into. A quick heal and (your touch…) he’s back to full health. He was wrong because reader is wise to his schemes and makes it their personal mission to fluster the shit out of him.

“Why is this taking so long??”

“Because you keep fidgeting”

“Well you need to hurry up!!”

“I’m adding on a minute of heal time for every time you rush me.”

“What?? No just finish up already!”

“Three minutes.”

“Stop going so slow!!”

“Four! Do I hear five?? Goodness your gonna give me the wrong idea if you keep this up. It’s like you want my hands on you~”

All the while you’re slooowly dragging your hands across him and he’s doing everything in his power to not think about how good it feels, how nice it feels to have your gentle and delicate touches on him and looking anywhere other than at you. Jokes on him though he may not blush super easily but his ears are always the first to show it.

Sun Wukong was NOT prepared for this. He’s used to admiration from his subjects, fear from his enemies, respect from those he’s fought. But this??? This is new. He’s not used to this. Even back on flower fruit mountain he was never subjected to this kind of attention. He doesn’t…hate it per-say, but he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He might try to cross his arms, make himself look intimidating he doesn’t know-

“Nah-ah, uncross those arms mister I need access to your chest.”

He is suffering. Your going to kill him he’s sure of it. This is how he dies. Just by being subjected to your ministrations. Yes he knows he could leave at anytime but he’s not going to.

It doesn’t really occur to him that you’re taking your time on purpose at first because it’s not exactly like he was paying attention the first time you healed him and he accepts your explanation of it being more precise when you touch him like that readily enough. To his credit he does eventually catch on to what your doing by being purposefully slow and handsy. But like by that point he’s down bad and doubles down.

He flips the script BIIIG time when he goes from “feelings are dumb” to courting/relationship status though. If he was a menace before now he is INSUFFERABLE.

“You missed a spot”

“Oh? Where?”

“Move your hands lower”

“WUKONG.”

“I am injured! Don’t you want to see me get better? 🥺”

Or otherwise now he is intentionally doing whatever he can to increase how long it takes

“Hey you still intend to go slower if I rush you right?”

“Probably? Why do you ask-“

“WOW you are going so slow you need to hurry up and finish already because this is taking forever, we’ve been here like all day seriously how much longer is this going to take??”

“…”

“How long does that buy me?”

“…”

*Insta-Heals him*

D:<

As for the others,

Sandy/Sha Wujing is an absolute sweetheart, always patiently waiting for his turn to be healed or for you to finish. Always asks for heals with a please and thanks you every time. Secret handshake is absolutely how he gets healed. 10/10 would heal again. Best patient ever.

Tang is….fine most times. He’s real sorry for making you go through the trouble though. Really sorry. Has he told you how sorry he is? Because he is. He’s really really sorry. Swears he won’t do it again. A simple shoulder pat is all he really needs as he feels reaaaaally sorry and just feels the worst about this. No but fr he feels SO GUILTY. Healing him is part actually healing him and part feelings jam because he probs needs to be reassured that what happened wasn’t his fault.

Oof but when it’s because of Pigsy starting shit again and pulls him into danger? That’s when the pinching starts. How many times have you and Wukong told him not to listen to Pigsy?? So many times?? AND YET??? …he’s still really sorry tho

Ao Lie doesn’t really need healing all that often due to being a horse most of the time but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t occasionally sidle up to you and push his head under your hand to ask for it. Carrying the monk all that time has gotta be tiring, even if he is a dragon. Especially since he isn’t even doing it in his natural form! So that little boost of energy you give him really helps him out. Also a sweetheart 10/10 (why can’t Pigsy be like you and Sandy FR)

Pigsy tho…bless Reader’s heart you TRIED to actually properly heal him once. But unfortunately with Pigsy being Pigsy that went about as well as expected. As soon as he found out you heal through touch it was all over. “Oh my fair friend I am dying!! Only your sweet kiss can heal me. 😚” which did result in the slap heal. To his…tiny tiny bit of credit he does stop the antics after the first few times. Not because he realized that it won’t happen, but because Wukong won’t let him. Literally, he tries to be his fail-suave self during a time when Wukong is standing right behind you and one very intense glare coupled with a hand going to his ear to pull out his cudgel is all it takes to get him to stop….mostly. Still tries it when Wukong isn’t around though. Always results in a slap.

#jttw #lmk #monkey king reborn #sun wukong x reader #Sun Wukong #sha wujing #zhu bajie #ao lie #Tang XuanZang #hahaha Monkey Man is down bad get super wreckt

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tieronecrush · 8 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter eleven: star-spangled eyes

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.9k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, ESTABLISHED relationship FINALLY, spanish cause joel is latino, unprotected p in v, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft (and soft dom) joel, possessive joel, mentions of depression and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, angst, MAJOR doubt! and displays of nationalism! yay!

a/n: thank you as always to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, seriously i can't write without you so don't ever leave me pls. also thank you all for being so patient with this chapter while i was away! enjoy xxx

“Morning, Millers! Happy Fourth!” Your dad’s voice booms in your ear from where he stands behind you at the garage door, waving to the three Millers as they walk over to your driveway. “Y’all ready for a day on the lake?”

“Sure are. Thanks again for invitin’ us, can we pack up the cooler and everything in my truck? Might make it easier to access since you’ve got the boat hitched up here.” Joel glances your way, the slightest curve of his mouth when you catch his stare, turning toward your dad.

“Well, that’d be just great! We’ve got a couple more bags inside, but think you can take care of these things for now?” Your dad gestures to the things behind you both, clapping his hands when Joel confirms and steps forward to grab the supplies. Slipping back into the house to help your mom with last-minute prep, your dad leaves you with the Miller crew outside.

“Long time, no see, Posey.” Tommy teases as he grabs a tote from his older brother as Joel gives him a glare, earning a smile and shrug from you. “Definitely didn’t hear you sneaking out the kitchen door this mornin’ from my place sleeping on the couch.”

“Get all of that out now before we’re constantly around my parents all day, Thomas.” Joel straightens up at the slightest edge of your voice, masked with teasing as he walks away from you standing with Tommy, grumbling to himself as he goes to load everything for the festivities into his truck.

“Yeesh, somebody’s in a mood. Sometimes he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, but you probably know that.” Tommy hikes the bag onto his shoulder further, grimacing slightly with a familiar furrowed brow — you can see even more of the resemblance with that.

“I’ve seen him crabby, but it’s honestly been pretty rare. He was fine this morning.” Watching from your driveway, Joel’s shoulders move underneath the navy t-shirt he’s got on, lifting everything into the bed of his truck. Tommy follows over there, loading up the rest of the things that your dad brings out from the house. You pick up one tote, Joel approaching behind you and skimming a hand over your lower back.

“I can take that, sweetheart.” He holds a hand out at your side, giving you a tight lip smile as you nod and stutter out an agreement, handing the bag over to him. Your parents walk outside at that moment, your mom rifling through her purse while your dad calls into the house for your brother, Chris, before shutting the door.

“Everyone ready to go?” Your mom looks up, meeting your eyes as Joel gives her a nod and a smile, walking over to his truck to get Sarah in. “Oh gosh, we really overpacked, didn’t we?”

“You always pack for the boat as if we’re going on a sailing trip out to the Gulf. But at least we’ll be prepared,” you say with a laugh, adjusting the strap of your swimsuit underneath your cover-up dress, turning around, and exchanging another look with Joel as he climbs into his car.

There’s the smallest flash of those ‘what ifs’ that plagued your mind a few nights ago, tamped down for the last few days. You clear your throat of the acidic burn, climbing into the back of your dad’s truck and watching Chris shuffle out of the house still half asleep, climbing in next to you with a mumbled greeting.

After you ignore it, he asks, “What the hell has you in a mood?”

If only you could say something.

You climb out of the back of your dad’s truck once you reach the docks, making your way over to Joel’s truck parked in the lot to help unload while your dad and Chris drop the boat in. Sidling up to him at the back of the cab, you reach for your personal bag that you packed with your things like a book and extra sunscreen and a change of clothes. His hand intercepts yours, looking at you with one side of his mouth lifted.

“I got it for you, Mari. D’you mind walkin’ with Sarah?” He nods to where she’s stood on the sidewalk nearby, observing all of the boats in the small lakeside harbor. Glancing back at Joel, you give him a gentle smile, reaching to give his arm a squeeze.

“Thanks, J. I’ll take Sarah down there. You sure you and Tommy don’t need any help?” You suspiciously eye the amount of stuff occupying the truck bed, quirking a brow at him.

“Positive, darlin’. Y’all head down there, we’ll be right behind you both.” He leans in a few inches as if he’s going to kiss you, halting in his movements and letting out a barely audible sigh before straightening up again and looping a few more bags onto his arms. Your stomach flips around with the need to complete his motions, to close the gap that was there between you, but you respect the boundaries he wants to keep around your family, instead walking over to Sarah and taking her hand.

Guiding her down the winding path, she tells you all about how excited she is to go swimming and to see the fireworks later, swinging your joined hands. You stop at the end of the dock, waiting as your dad and Chris pull around to where you and your mom are; Joel and Tommy come up behind you with all the goods, loading them onto the boat with your dad and Chris when they come around. Tommy hops on after swinging the cooler over the side, Joel stepping down after. Your dad offers your mom a hand while Joel picks up Sarah easily and sets her down, reaching a hand out to you afterward.

Gingerly taking it, you swing one foot onto the seat, bringing the other over and tripping a bit. You sway back and forth, a heavy hand tightly gripping your side to steady you.

“Y’alright? Nearly fell in there, sweetheart.”

Nodding and taking a breath, Joel drops his hand from you and helps you the rest of the way down and onto the seat. Your mom digs out a child’s life jacket from one of the storage compartments, passing it to you.

“D’you mind getting that on Sarah, honey? She’s gotta wear it to stay safe. Too many nutcases out on the water today.”

You call Sarah over, smiling as she stands in front of you and explaining that she has to keep this on while everyone’s on the boat. Easily slipping her arms in, you close it in front of her chest, clipping and securing the clips one at a time. Joel sits next to you, a few more inches apart than normal, patting Sarah’s curls and giving you a sideways glance.

“You wanna sit here between us, mija?” Joel pats the spot, helping Sarah scoot back onto the bench. He stretches his arm behind her, grazing your arm and brushing his fingers against the knit material of your cover-up. Joel relaxes for the first time all morning, content to stay like this all day if it was his choice. Both of his girls next to him, as close as he can get to you without breaking the boundaries he set himself.

With everyone seated, your dad at the helm, the boat lurches to life when the engines turnover and it idly cruises out of the harbor area before picking up speed to drive around the lake for a bit. The wind blows against all of you, Sarah giggling at the excitement of the ride. You turn to look at her, beaming a smile as she holds onto your arm. Joel watches the small interaction, his heart pumping the subtlest bit harder in his chest.

You’re so patient with Sarah, so kind, compassionate, silly, and serious — you’re exactly what she needs right now, what she’s missing that Joel can’t quite ever be no matter how hard he tries.

The words burn into his mind, sitting in his throat where he holds it back on his tongue. Later. He can say it later. At some point.

After a few laps and weaves around the lake, your dad idles the boat up to a cluster of fellow lake-goers, dropping the anchor and turning off the engines. Everyone shuffled around, Sarah popping up and asking to go in the water straight away.

“Gotta put some sunscreen on ya first, Bug. How about we do that, wait a few minutes for it to dry and you can drink some water and then go swimming?” Joel stands up, glancing around for their own bag they packed. You’re still seated, sorting through your own tote and pulling out your sunscreen.

“Here, use mine. Sure we’ll find your bag in a minute but don’t think Sare-Bear here wants to wait any longer than she has to for swimming.” You smile at her before handing the tube off to Joel, a quiet “thanks” in response. He gets some on Sarah, asking her to sit and wait for it to dry before handing the lotion back to you. Joel steps around you to find their bag on the other end of the boat, walking back over with spray sunscreen and stripping off his shirt to apply some himself.

Stealing glances at you, his mouth dries out when he watches you peel off the cover-up, setting it aside and leaving you clad in your bikini. The sight of you applying the sunscreen sends him back to that first summer, the view from his window into yours of you naked and applying body lotion — a show only for him. He swallows hard and shakes himself out of his thoughts, ignoring you off to his side until he hears you speak up.

“Hey, Tommy, d’you mind gettin’ my back for me since you’re waitin’ on the sunscreen from Joel?” He watches you cross over to Tommy before he can call out a protest, the words dying in his throat when he knows he doesn’t have any claim over you today. Tommy shrugs at Joel, helping you out while he watches on enviously.

Huffing out a sigh, he finishes his own application, throwing the bottle back in the bag and sitting back down in the sun. He slips his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose from the top of his head, closing his eyes and basking in some of the warmth before Sarah begs to get into the water.

Joel hears you mumble a curse under your breath, feeling your presence next to him. Tilting his head down and opening his eyes again, he glances at you sideways and questions, “Something wrong?”

“I stupidly left my sunglasses in the car. I set them down next to my bag instead of putting them inside of it,” you sigh and look around the boat in hopes that some sort of idea pops into your head. Joel reaches up, takes off his own pair of glasses, and hands them to you.

“Here, y’can borrow mine. Won’t need them in the water with Sarah anyway, just gonna lose ‘em if I wear them in the lake.” He gives you a shrug and a thoughtful smile, your fingers brushing his when you exchange the sunglasses. Your own smile that you give him flips his insides, a knowing look shared that says ‘I’d kiss you right now if I could’.

And he desperately wants to.

“Thanks, J—oel. Joel,” you catch yourself with the affectionate nickname, stuttering out the rest of his name and making him chuckle as he stands up.

“Anytime.” A flash of a wink nearly makes you stutter again, slipping the glasses on as Joel, Sarah, Tommy, and Chris all get in the water to cool off from the already blazing heat.

About a half hour later, Joel and Tommy rumble up the ladder back onto the boat, leaving Chris in charge of entertaining Sarah by spinning her in the inner tube that’s been inflated. The Millers measly dry off before Tommy wanders over to the cooler. Joel steps over to where you’re lying out on the bench, shaking his curls out over you with your eyes closed behind his sunglasses. The cool water drips over you, opening your eyes in a flash and sitting up.

“Rude,” you mumble as you wipe the drips of water and Joel sits next to you where your thighs once were. He chuckles and shrugs casually, leaning back against the side of the boat and propping his elbows up behind him. He’s sitting only a few inches away, and with your parents sitting and chatting at the other end, they don’t hear as he leans in and speaks low to you.

“Y’looked hot. I was only tryin’ to cool you down.” He winks and smirks smugly, dragging his eyes up and down your body when you stand and patter over to the cooler where Tommy’s retrieved a beer from.

“You want a drink, Joel?” you ask over your shoulder, nodding in confirmation when he says yes.

“Probably should get some water as well. You, too. Gotta stay hydrated in the heat.”

“Hm, guess so.” You grab a plastic bottle and turn around, lobbing it to him to catch. You pick up another for yourself, grabbing a can of beer for Joel and a popsicle for you. As you turn around with your pickings, you take the beer can in one hand, heading straight on for Joel and press it into your skin against your sternum, sighing a bit extra as the icy cold aluminum sits against your sun-warmed body.

Dragging it across, the condensation drips across your body, dropping the can down in between your breasts as you stand with your back to your parents. Another sigh breathed directly towards Joel, the slightest pitch change up at the end indetectable to Tommy across the boat but unignorable for Joel.

He clears his throat, taking the can from you gingerly as you hold it out for him, equally as smug of a smirk on your face. You take your seat next to him again, setting your water bottle to the side of you and unwrapping the popsicle as Joel cracks his beer and takes a sip.

“Lucky it’s still cold,” he grumbles under his breath, making you laugh quietly and a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

Between your thumb and index, you grip the wooden stick of the red, white, and blue rocket pop, bringing it up to your lips and starting to lick it as you make conservation with Tommy, a thought popping into your head as ‘Fortunate Son’ by Creedence Clearwater Revival starts playing over the boat’s speakers.

“D’you get a lot of people thanking you for your service when they find out you were in the army, Tommy?”

“Eh, some really. Fellow veterans really don’t, and I don’t care to mention it that much to people. Most they notice is the sticker on my car in like the grocery store parking lots and they’ll say it quickly or give me a nod,” he shrugs and waves the question off, “Plus, you definitely don’t get people saying it to me on the Fourth. People gettin’ too drunk outta their minds in the name of their freedom.”

“Well, if no one else says it today, then thanks, Tommy. War is the stupidest thing man invented, but m’glad you made it home safe.”

Tommy holds up his can of beer and tips it toward you while you pop the icy, sugary treat out of your lips and hold it up with a laugh.

“Cheers,” he says with a smile.

Joel merely listened to you two the whole time, chatting back and forth while Tommy pounds his beer and tossed it into the recycling bag before jumping back into the lake. You’ve still got your popsicle, sliding it between your lips absentmindedly next to Joel, who keeps glancing to the side as you.

At the next, admittedly overdramatized, suck of popsicle between your lips, slurping the sugary juice before a drip slips out of the corner of your mouth. You wipe it up with your thumb, about to turn to Joel to ask if you’ve got food coloring on your face when he shifts next to you, one hand attempting to adjust himself before he grumbles a few curses and stands up. The water and beer are left ignored in cup holders, the small, subtle bulge in his trunks giving you a smirk that you bite back as he stomps over to the side of the boat and jumps in to cool off.

Throwing out the popsicle stick, you drink some of your water before meandering over to the side of the boat and climbing down the ladder and into the lake water. An instant chill is spread across your body, relaxing your muscles and washing off the slight sweat that built up under the blazing sun. Paddling over to the rest of the group in the water, you exchange a quick look with Joel before Sarah and Chris pull you into some sort of game. Twenty minutes go by before Sarah gets bored of the water, hungry and thirsty, and when Joel moves to help her out of the water and onto the boat, Tommy offers to get out with her to have another beer and some snacks himself. Chris gets out along with them, leaving you and Joel alone in the water.

He swims over to where you’re treading water, a soft, friendly smile on his face. “Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

A wider grin spreads across his lips, swimming away for a moment to fetch the inner tube that Sarah was using bringing it over and slipping it over your head. A laugh leaves your lips when you can’t see over it for a moment, pushing the tube down and climbing onto the side to lean on it. You float above Joel’s eyeline, his neck slightly tilted to look into your eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

“You look nice today, darlin’,” he hums and treads water in front of you, reaching out a hand underwater and toying with the material of your swimsuit at your hip.

“Only nice?” you tease, leaning over the side of the inner tube a bit more, biting your bottom lip.

“Well, I could say more but probably don’t want my thoughts overheard,” he mirrors your smirk and snaps the elastic of the swimsuit against your skin, fingertips trailing down your thighs, “You do look more than nice though. You look beautiful. S’a pretty swimsuit and, uh, that dress thing—”

“My cover-up?”

“Yeah, yeah. I like your cover-up. It’s nice. A shame it covers up all this, but y’know you still look gorgeous either way.” He gives you a wink and squeezes one of your thighs.

“Thanks, J. You look pretty, too. But you always look pretty — got your curls and your tanned skin and broad shoulders and big brown eyes,” you giggle quietly as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head bashfully.

“You’re always pretty, too, Mari. You always look beautiful. La mujer más hermosa del mundo (The most beautiful woman in the world).”

It’s quiet for a moment as the two of you look at each other, silently admiring before you break first, your voice covered by all the commotion of the lake around you but audible to Joel right in front of you. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

His shoulders sag underwater and his brow creases subtly, bottom lip pouting, “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay, J. Wasn’t a good time to tell them. Later, right?” You give a sad smile that he returns, squeezing his hands against your thighs with a short nod.

“Later.”

After floating around and chatting with Joel until you were turning pruney and nearly falling asleep in the water, he pushes the inner tube toward the boat and follows behind you to get back.

“Y’need to get some water and somethin’ to eat, sweetheart. Probably dehydrated at this rate cause you look like you’re about to pass out.” Joel pats the tube with his hand to silently ask you to get out to go up the ladder.

“M’just sleepy, the sun feels warm. Like a cat, jus’ wanna nap in the sunlight,” you mumble out, stretching your arms up and your legs toward Joel underwater, pointed toes hitting his thighs. He grabs you by the ankles, tugging a bit to move you closer before he nods to the blown-up floaty.

“Maybe so, but you still haven’t had any water for at least an hour and you haven’t had anything to eat besides the popsicle. Let’s go up, Mariposa.” His voice is decided — filled with care and not control. It compels you to follow what he says, slipping the tube over your head and wading over to the ladder. Joel follows you out, dripping on the boat and grabbing his towel as your brother tosses yours from the bench.

Drying off and wrapping your towel around you, drops of water trail off of you all the way to the seat where you plop down next to Tommy. Joel heads to the cooler, grabbing out water for both of you. He asks around if anyone else wants one, getting a few hollered answers as he throws them all around. When he returns to sit down again, he hands you yours along with a snack — one of the Tupperware filled with some chopped fruit. Sarah wanders over when you open it, standing in front of you to share. Joel throws the bottle of sunscreen over to you, asking to reapply for Sarah and reminding you to do it for yourself.

“Alright, everybody, heads up. The plan right now is to move the boat and park up by a friend of ours’ house on the lake here. And there we’ll grill out and have some dinner and then come back onto the boat for fireworks before headin’ home,” your dad explains as he moves back into the driving seat, “Sound alright for y’all?”

Everyone’s in agreement, kicking it into gear as you let Sarah next to you to continue sharing the snack while your dad lifts the anchor. Holding onto her while you ride over, Joel takes in the sight of you two across from him, a steady flap of butterfly wings smack dab in the middle of his chest.

Su Mariposa y su mariposita. His butterfly and his little butterfly — his Bug. His girls.

He finds himself thanking the universe for leading him to someone as nurturing and patient and kind as you to love. A lonely road ending with you.

It’s a thought he continues to have throughout the rest of the evening, small moments that he sees of you with his daughter, his brother, your own family and friends. Effortless. You make it all seem so effortless and natural, but Joel knows how much energy a day like today will take from you; from your spirit. He can’t claim to know exactly what’s on your mind, but all he can do is fight the urge to blurt out a loud ‘thank you’ in the middle of the lawn.

Even through everything, you have a smile on your face for him and your loved ones. You’re strong, perseverant. Someone he looks up to, and hopes that you can be that type of role model for his daughter. Not perfect, not idolized. Real.

“She’s just completely enamored with Sarah, isn’t she?” your mom’s voice pulls Joel out of his thoughts, realizing his eyes were trained in you and Sarah as you help her make a plate for dinner from the large spread on the deck tables. Joel looks up to his left, a gentle and sheepish smile on his face as he nods slowly.

“She’s great with Sarah. Has been since that first summer. I think Sarah has way more fun with her and listens to her way more than she does me,” Joel chuckles softly and your mom laughs with a nod.

“That’s how it always is. The kids always loved their babysitters and looked up to them in a different sort of way. We were lucky to have the sitters we did to help raise the kids right, y’know?”

“I do know. Feel the same way since we moved in next door. The whole family’s been a real help—“

“But there’s just something about her, isn’t there?”

“Exactly. Can’t quite put my finger on it. But there’s something special there. Maybe she should consider it for a career, nannying I mean. Always seemed to be happy with Sarah during the summer.” Both sets of eyes are still on you across the way, focused on Sarah and guiding her through the muck of people to keep her from getting overwhelmed.

“I think there might be something just special there. In all of her babysitting and nannying years, can’t say she’s had as much fun as she did with Sarah.”

“Guess I should thank you for volunteering her that first summer. Probably the best recommendation I’ve gotten from a neighbor,” Joel laughs to himself, shaking his head subtly as he thinks of all the time you two have had together over the years.

“Thank me later, how about that? End of this summer, you can thank me for getting her to do what she was too chicken to do,” your mom laughs quietly, “Talking to the new neighbor and getting a job.”

“Uh, yeah, alright.” Your mom shares a smile with Joel before walking off to chat to some friends, leaving Joel to wonder what she meant by that exactly.

Back onto the boat after dinner with the larger party, your family and the Millers caravanned into the middle of the lake with a bunch of other boaters, dropping anchor in the cluster.

There is a platform in the middle of the lake, installed there with taut chains to the bottom where the same family lights off an impressive fireworks display every year. Helping your mom hand around the last bit of drink and some cookies for dessert, you finally are able to snag a spot by Sarah and Joel on the other side of her. Once you get settled, Sarah looks over at you with her sun-kissed face and big brown eyes just like her dad’s. Wordlessly, she scoots closer to you before deciding to simply climb onto your lap, you accepting her company with open arms.

“You comfy?” you wrap your arms around to hug her to your chest and keep her on your thighs, smiling as she nods with a quiet yawn. Her head leans back on your shoulder, one of your hands coming up to run your fingers through her curls.

Joel slides over a few inches, a hand’s width away from you, relaxing with you close by. The sight of Sarah so comfortable with you, and you her, brings back those butterfly wings stronger than before. What he would give to be able to put his arm around you and give you a kiss — to have his little unit of three together.

Damn, maybe he should have said something to your parents…

No, no. This was the smart choice. It’s the smart choice to keep it this way around them until things are certain. He’s all in for you, but there is still a small whispering of doubt that he feels every once in a while.

Are you going to resent him at any point? Will you want to leave again at the end of summer, to leave him behind and continue your life somewhere else? He knows you care about him, he knows how much you care about Sarah. But does he rely too much on you? Is it too much to sign up to be with him and also sign up to have a daughter along with it all?

Every time he thinks about telling your family, all he can imagine is the worst scenario. Disowning, no contact, moving. Joel’s insecurities fester in these imaginings, finding out how to make every new thought worse than the last.

It’s not fair to you, he knows that. But he needs time. Time to find the right words, to make the right promises.

A small, pathetic pop of a firecracker grabs everyone’s attention, the fizzle of the main display filling the air. Sarah sits up in your lap, eyes turned up along with yours as the fireworks start to go, drowning out whatever you’re saying to her as you point and smile widely. The reflection of the lights dissipates in your eyes each time, short explosions fading out to the night sky again.

Joel seems to be the only one with his gaze turned away from the opening in the clouds, a thought flashing into his head like one of the fireworks before he acts on it. Fingers brush your hip, catching on the open-knit and your head turns to face him, the same smile you had with Sarah still on your face. He leans in behind her head, his nose brushes against yours before he kisses you — soft and delicate and not nearly enough for what he needs in the moment but it satiates something for him.

You’re smiling against his lips, stealing one last quick peck before pulling back, the same wide grin from before spread across your cheeks as you whisper to him.

“Naughty.”

“Yeah, well, you’re to blame for it with the teasing all day. Better be coming over tonight after all of that,” Joel responds back, the noise drowned to everyone else on the boat by the repeated launches of large fireworks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, J. I thought I was being peaceful and relaxed all day.”

At that you turn your head up again, listening to Sarah as she talks about the bursting lights and starts pointing at all of the cool moments again. Joel continues to watch you fall back into the moment with her, he content with being an observer — and for giving you a tiny token of all that he’s been feeling today.

But damn is he eager to get you alone.

It was a long while to get home and get everything unpacked from the car and into the garage, but you’ve finally managed to shower and change; behind you, you slowly pull the sliding glass door closed to your basement studio, wandering across your backyard and into Joel’s to his backdoor.

Knocking lightly, it isn’t long before the door opens, and Joel’s hands find your waist to tug you inside, tripping over your feet across the threshold.

“Hey, J—” Your words are cut off by his lips on yours, a heavy kiss enveloping your breath while your hands search across his arms and up to his chest. Returning his kiss gives more energy behind his movements, fingers digging into your hips and directing you backward until your lower back hits the edge of the kitchen counter. There’s a split second that he pulls away to help you up onto the surface, his large frame leaning in again to catch your lips with his.

Pressure at his chest from your palms keeps him a few inches away from your face, eyes meeting his as your breaths recover shallowly.

“What a greeting,” you laugh, voice hoarse as you keep your volume low.

“Missed bein’ able to kiss you, Mari. Holdin’ you. And you were such a fucking tease all day, darlin’,” he rasps out, brow creased as he holds your gaze.

“Was not.”

“Was too, Mari.” Joel slips his hands into the bend of your legs, spreading them apart to step between them. He pulls you further to the edge pressing his bulge into your thigh as he sighs, letting his breath fan over your face, “Feel what you do to me, pretty girl? Been wanting you all day. Need you so bad, Mariposa.”

Your own sigh matches his, eyes closing for a moment as he starts to grind against your clothed center, stuttering out a response, “Cou—Could’ve touched me today. Maybe we should’ve snuck off at the barbecue…”

Both of you chuckle, Joel’s much darker than yours, “Don’t tell me that now, baby. You’ve got no idea what I would’ve done to you if we had a second alone.”

“We’re alone now. Show me what you would’ve done.”

“Yeah? You wanna know?” His parted mouth trails warm breath against your skin, his nose ghosting against your cheek before he presses kisses into your jawline.

“Please, J,” you whine, mouth right against his ear as he leans over to kiss your neck. One hand tangles into the curls at the nape of his neck, damp from the shower that you can smell on him — the sandalwood musk scent of his body wash. A deep breath of the scent races your heart along with his wandering hands, him standing fully in front of you again.

“Gonna have to be quiet, baby. Have a full house tonight. Silent, got it?”

All you do is nod in response, holding his head as you close the gap between you two with fervor. Joel rumbles out a moan into your mouth, tugging you close and off the counter, his impatience reeling after the day.

Fumbling around with cheeky grabs and gropes over each other, you get turned to face the counter and Joel’s hands hook into your waistband — sleep short and panties — to tug them down just enough to drop them down your legs and let you step one foot out. He pulls himself free from his shorts and boxers, a handful of your ass in his palm as he quietly moans to himself. One swipe of his fingers through your folds tells him exactly how much you want him, devilish smirk crossing his face.

“Felt like this the whole day, pretty girl? Must’ve been so needy, Mari. Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. Déjame cuidarte, cariño. Déjame sentirte. (Let me take care of you, darling. Let me feel you.)”

“Please, please, J—“

“Shh. S’alright, sweet Mari. Think you can take me, want to take my cock like the good girl you are?” He questions you in a raspy whisper, taking himself in one hand and guiding the head of his cock through your wetness.

“Fuck…” you draw out quietly, nodding quickly as you look over your shoulder at him, “I can take it, please give it to me.”

“Pretty girl jus’ begging for me, yeah? Got to be quiet,” Joel reminds you before he lines himself up, slowly opening you up with his cock. The stretch is painful at first, whimpers echoing in your closed mouth while you grip the counter’s edge and bite the inside of your cheek.

With slow, shallow thrusts at first, Joel works you to relax around him, nodding to himself when he sees your shoulder relax and your head fall forward out of pleasure when he starts to pick up the pace behind you.

“That’s it, baby, such a good girl. Mi buena chica. Sabes cómo tomarlo, Mari. (My good girl. You know how to take it.)”

A moan slips from your lips and cuts through the relative silence, your head snapping over your shoulder to Joel. He shakes his head, sliding one hand up your side to hold around your mouth, covering up any more noises and giving him leverage to arch your back for him as he fucks you harder.

“Shit, pretty girl, not gonna last—Fuck, muy apretado y mojado. (Fuck, so tight and wet.)” You nod behind Joel’s hand, gripping his wrist when his free hand reaches for your clit, rubbing hurried circles that push you to the edge further, teetering there while his hips hit into you harder and brush your g-spot. Feeling yourself clench around his cock, you move your own hips to meet his thrusts, eyes rolling back as the top of him hits your g-spot square on.

“That’s right, my girl, can feel how close you are. Give it to me, baby, please—“ A vibrating moan interrupts his rambling thoughts when you come, walls gripping around him and fluttering inside. Your own noises are stifled by his palm, body limping in his hold while he rocks his hips as deep as possible and ropes of his come fill you up. “Such a good girl, goddamn…”

Breathless, he holds you up and presses you against the counter as he hunches over your body from behind. Using whatever energy is left in him, Joel peppers your neck and profile in lazy kisses, lingering around your ear.

“Love you, Mari.”

Once you’ve both recovered enough from the quick, hasty fuck, limbs regaining their abilities to move, Joel leads you up to bed and drags you under the covers. The two of you chat about the day and plans for the rest of summer while he lays his head on your chest, eyes closing while you run your fingers through his hair. Index twirls some of the rare ringlets, nails scratching his scalp soothingly.

In a few moments of you talking to him about bringing Sarah to the aquarium, his breaths have leveled out and his lips have parted, a large muscular build curled around you sleeping. It’s a few moments that you steal while continuing to play with his hair, admiring how young and boyish he looks. The perpetually creased brow of his has relaxed, his parted lips giving him the slightest of pouts.

Joel, your strong, independent, capable, protective, caring, loving man, is still a boy at times. When you feel young around him, you know you’ll think back to this moment — when you realized he’s just as much in the ‘figuring how all this shit works out’ stage. Permanently.

The last two or so years have been filled with moments that it seems that you took what Joel had to think or say as written in stone; his confidence and decisiveness was something you were envious of at times. But it also meant that all those times, even if he knew what he was doing, he was still a young boy, a teenager, a man, all the ones in between — figuring it out. Wondering if the choices were right. If it would all work out in the end.

That first summer, when you fell completely in love and let him know before you were leaving for nearly a year. It was genuine, of course, but it was naive. Thinking about long distance, a single father trying to make that work. It probably scared him at the time, and was too much to attempt to work with.

And the next summer, when he had his time to figure out what he was feeling. His confession of love that had your heart in your throat, terrified to admit anything close to the feeling before you were thousands of miles away. The feeling was there, it was always there. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it back, to open up for the pain you felt the year prior.

His denial of you, yours of him — looking back, you can’t blame Joel for these hiccups, just like you can’t blame yourself. He was only trying to figure it out. It was all new to him, navigating a life with you in it was something he hadn’t had to do before, hadn’t imagined before.

You’re in the exact same state, each and every day. And it made you so afraid to be all in, the uncertainty of life blinding you to actually opening up.

Fingers have paused their movements in his hair, Joel stirring awake against your chest when your touch leaves him completely. His head is tilted to face you, masked in an expression that you can’t quite read. Comfortable, drowsy, affectionate. Half asleep, droopy eyes find your own, holding your gaze as he breaks the quiet and stillness of the bedroom with a gravelly voice.

“Was thinking about you in my sleep just now.”

“Oh yeah? What were you thinking about, baby?”

“How you’re my best friend.” The arm slung around your middle tightens as a goofy smile finds its way to his lips. “D’you know that, Mari?”

Looking at him, in that simple moment, a realization dawned on you as if it was the most obvious discovery.

He’s the only one you want to be figuring it out with.

“I love you, Joel.”

It comes out meeker than you wanted for this first-second time around, almost inaudible if it weren’t for the complete and utter quiet of the early morning hours.

A dreamy but wide grin stretches across his face, waking him up a bit more in the moment. He picks up his head from your chest, sitting up a few inches to look you properly in the eyes as he asks, “Yeah?”

“Mhm, I love you,” you can barely get it out without a happy giggle tagging on the end, barely squeaking the last syllable out before Joel’s skittering kisses all over your face, that same wide grin on his lips.

“Say it again, please, Mari.”

“I love you, J. I’m so in love with you.”

His attack on your face and neck continues, his own chuckles mixing with your giggles, his arm tightening around you and fingers tickling your sides.

“Am I still asleep? Am I dreaming right now?” he questions, pausing his peppered kisses to give you a tender one on your lips, that same goofy grin knocking your teeth together.

Before you respond, or he asks for you to say it again, Joel takes a pause to look into your eyes head on. Silence overcomes the room again, goofy grin morphing into a sweet, softened smile of his. Disbelief painted across his face as he took you in, shaking his head.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre. I love you, Mari. Always.”

“I love you, Joel.”

Holding your eyes for a moment longer, there’s a shift in the air from the giddy confession. Joel inches down, connecting your lips in a ghosting kiss, your lips following his to feel more. After a beat, the kiss heats up, slow and sensual. His hands roam your sides, hiking up the material of your sleep shirt and pressing his palm against your exposed skin.

There’s no break in the embrace, only pushing further to feel each other closer and constant. The slight lack of oxygen, the breathlessness of it all, is making your head airy and dizzy, limbs tingling with electricity when you slip your fingers under the collar of his t-shirt. In the moment, you could drown in the feeling of Joel’s lips against yours.

The only breaths you get are when he separates from your lips to pull your shirt over your head and then follows it with his own, easily sipping your elastic waistbands down your legs again. You kick off the material from your ankles while he strips out of his own shorts and boxers, messy kisses shared while your hands skate over his bare skin. Fingertips work to memorize the dips and peaks, the trail of hair from his belly button down. Joel’s own hands explore your curves, relishing in the softness of your skin.

He pulls away from your mouth, breathless and blown pupils before he rasps out, “I love you so much, Mariposa. Got no clue who I’d be if I didn’t meet you…You’re it for me.”

Your voice is thick with emotion, one hand tangling your fingers with the hair at the back of his head, “I love you, J. It’s only you, s’always been you.”

Joel’s hand lifts one of your legs to bend next to his hip, lining himself at your entrance before he slowly thrusts in, savoring the feeling of you around him, body pressed against his skin in every place possible. Airy moans muffle into and against each other’s lips as he fills you up, the rhythm of his movements languid and steady. The pace is reeling your brain into a building of pleasure, whispers from Joel adding to the euphoric adoration between the two of you.

“My beautiful girl, so perfect. Love everything about you, sweet girl. M’so lucky to have you…Mine forever, right Mari baby? Mi hermosa, mi amor. I love you, fuck, I love you so much, Mari. Always got me feeling like m’floating around you, like I got a butterfly flapping it’s wings in my chest with how giddy you make me feel with just one look. Mi mariposa. My butterfly. Mine…”

The words are absorbing with each shallow breath you take, nodding along to his ramblings and feeling tears well against your waterline. Hands grip hard onto his shoulders, folding yourself around him tighter as you leave lingering kisses along his profile.

“Yours, J, yours always. I love you so fucking much—Oh my god, you’re everything to me, baby.”

“Never letting you go again. My girl, my fucking beautiful girl. Gonna make you mine forever, gonna make you my wife, mi esposa, one day, sweet, perfect girl. You’re made for me, Mari. Mi media naranja. (My other half.)”

His thrusts pick up only slightly, but enough to spill the tears waiting at the brink of your eyes, Joel’s mouth catching each one with featherlight kisses. Sitting right at the edge, your eyes lock with his, vision slightly blurred from the tears continuing to fall. Joel’s features fill the vignette, hooked nose, pillowy lips, soft brown eyes, olive skin sprinkled with crinkles around his eyes, subtle lines at his forehead. Nothing more beautiful to you than those parts making up the whole of him.

“Te amo, te amo, J. I love you, baby…”

His breath catches in his throat, smile spreading as his nose nudges against yours to speak against your lips.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Los amo a todos, cada poco. Eres todo lo que podría haber soñado y más (I love all of you, every bit. You're everything I could have ever dreamed of and more). I will spend every day earning your love and giving you all of mine.”

The words you understood have your frayed edges pulled taut, snapping one at a time as your brain floods with pleasure. Your walls flutter around his cock, your leg hooks into his ass to drive him further inside to fill you up. It is only a moment longer before he’s spilling into you, your name falling from his lips over and over as he searches for your lips in his state of ecstasy.

One last heavy kiss is shared before he slumps onto you, similar position to the start of all this; his head on your chest, strong form curled around you and his eyes closed. It last for a moment, your fingers playing with his hair, before he’s pushing himself up to hang over your torso, tender eyes studying your messy hair and blissed out face.

A smile crosses your lips, eyes sparkling even with the lights out in the room and the curtains only cracked apart to let moonlight stream in.

“Gonna make me your wife one day, huh?” you tease as you look up at him from your spot laying back on the mattress, crumpled sheet pulled over top of your naked body.

Joel rolls his eyes playfully, leaning over you and smiling, “As if you didn’t know that from the first time I spoke to you. Knew you were trouble from the start, just turned out to be the best kind of trouble.”

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#joel #writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #joel miller series #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

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agendabymooner · 9 months

Text

sweet little similarities ! sebastian v. x ofc (filipino!ofc)

summary: the little kimuel vettel is becoming more like his dad sebastian as the days go on. AND the vettels go on family trips with the schumachers while everyone dote on the little man.

content warning: dad!seb and mom!ofc, seb is at his beekeeping/country living phase (not age), tooth rotting fluff, gina and ofc (barbie) being besties, brief mention of ofc (barbie) x mick schumacher relationship, the parents being matchmakers, the vettels are just amazing lol, uncle lewis in the comments, baby!vettel is sebastian coded and i love them ur honour

note: i’m back in town, now i have to pack my stuff before moving in two weeks :) enjoy xx

masterlist

liked by lance_stroll, lewishamilton, ginaschumacher

user1 POUTY BABIES 😭😭

user2 i’m scared of the day kimi becomes a driver— god knows what can happen when a vettel steps into the room

user3 a lot of kindness and feral energy for sure 🥹

barblanco no wonder why i’ve seen kimi’s pout before! it’s from seb! 🤣 liked by belongvettel

belongvettel you’ve seen it way too many times in the past eight years 😂

mickschumacher he definitely is seb 2.0 liked by belongvettel

belongvettel no doubt!

lewishamilton he might be shy but he is so much like seb because of how tight his hugs could get 😂 liked by belongvettel

belongvettel he learned from the best! ❤️

scuderiaferrari who did it better?

belongvettel definitely kimi 😂

scuderiaferrari we agree 😩

barblanco posted a story !!!

tagged ginaschumacher, mickschumacher, belongvettel

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, logansargeant

ginaschumacher omg best friend we looked so cute in that first pic 😭 liked by barblanco

barblanco i agree best friend !!!

mickschumacher ginaschumacher 😒😒😒

user1 i live to see gina and mick fighting over barbie like yes bby i love me some sibling rivalries

user2 mother bel 🥰

user3 kimi kimi kimi a man after midnight liked by barblanco

logansargeant jealous of your trip not gonna lie 😅 liked by barblanco

barblanco from one person from a hot weather area to another, i’d never recommend going to a cold weather place without any preparation 😂 me and kimi were practically wrapped around the thickest jackets ever and i thought i had to waddle around with them

alex_albon i’m not the type to be all protective but YOU gotta be careful lad 😳

user4 that’s alex warning logan about mick schumacher in case y’all looking for a context

arthurleclerc is that you teaching kimi how to snowboard?!

charles_leclerc is that you trying to “make conversations”?!

user5 i’m being promptly fed with bel, kimi and seb contents 😍✨

belongvettel some much needed vacation with you girls!! ❤️ liked by barblanco

ginaschumacher next time we’ll take kimi and leave the other two behind 🤩

barblanco ginaschumacher but that would mean that we’d have another seb in the trip 🤨

ginaschumacher no headaches though 😍 just spoiling bby kimi

tagged barblanco, ginaschumacher, mickschumacher

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, landonorris

oscarpiastri mick you’re getting TOO lucky mate

landonorris why am i seeing too much barbie and mick?? 😭

user1 bro don’t complain about it 😭 they might get scared

user2 where??? which one are the mick and barbie content?

user1 photos 6 and 8!!!

lewishamilton look at seb and kimi!!! he must be the most energetic person out of all of you 😂 liked by belongvettel

belongvettel kimi or seb? because either way they are always extremely energetic whenever they’re together 😂😂

user4 if kimi’s a mini sebastian then you must have the sweetest people loving the shit out of you 😭 i like the thought of that sm liked by belongvettel

belongvettel barbie is just as sweet too so i’m pretty much spoiled! 🥰😍

user5 barbie is the original sebastian jr. confirmed?!?!

user6 i’d say she’s half bel and half seb. she acts more like bel though!

user7 st. belinda of quezon, patron of the angels (sebastian and kimi)

bonus !!!

fun fact: kimi calls gina ‘gee’ and mick ‘kie’ (from mackie)

283 notes · View notes

anangelwhodidntfall · 11 months

Note

Request: Heyy bestie thank you for my tarsem story <3. If you don't mind I would like to request something with dad!Quaritch where the reader is sick and just clings to him and he loves it so much and Jake is all jealous because the reader used to cling to him before Quaritch came into the picture.

Sickness: Dad!Quaritch

It had started with a few sneezes here and there and then the coughing started and progressively got worse until one night you woke up coughing so you got up and made your way towards the kitchen to get a drink. Your dad who had been sleeping until he heard one of you, he couldn't quite figure out who it was coughing, had made his way towards the kitchen to see who it was. He was surprised to see you standing there sipping some water and god did you look miserable which made him frown.

"Hey angel, you not feeling good?" He asked.

"No, the coughing is keeping me awake, my whole body hurts. I thought maybe the water would help but it isn't." You said sadly.

"Come here, let me feel your forehead." He said as you set your glass down and walked over t him.

He gently placed his hand against your forehead and felt how hot you were which he thought you probably had a cold. You relish in the relief of your father's cold hand against your forehead that felt nice against your hot skin.

"Angel I think you have a cold." He said as you backed away from him a bit feeling a sneeze come on.

"Sorry, I didn't want to sneeze on especially if I am sick. Do we have anything I can take to help me rest?" You asked him.

"I think we might. Why don't you go sit on the couch while I check, okay?" He asked as you nodded your head.

Hey angel, we only have enough for tonight, we'll stop by the Sully's in the morning to see what they suggest for you." He said taking a seat next to you.

"Mo'at will probably make me up some medicine or we'll have to go to the lab to see what the scientist suggests. It really depends." You said breaking out into a coughing fit making your dad frown as he rubbed your back.

After taking your medicine, you laid your head in your dad's lap making you look at your shock, he for sure thought you might go lay with your twin or your boyfriend or Jake even but not him. Sure you two were in a much better place than you two had ever been, but still having you cling to him made his heart swell.

"Oh, angel." He said running a hand through your hair as you slept.

The next morning when you woke up and had some soup which your twin had to help with since your dad's cooking wasn't the best but he was trying, you guys went to Mo'at to see if she could help you.

"Oh, my yawne." Neteyam said once he saw your state as you guys walked through high camp.

"I know I feel so terrible." You said sneezing which made your throat hurt.

"Here let's get you to grandmother." He said taking your hand which made your dad smile a bit seeing how much the boy cared for you.

Just as your dad suspected, Mo'at did confirm that you had a cold that should be gone in a few days and was most likely from the other night when you and Neteyam got stuck in the rain. She said she would make you up some medicine and Neteyam said that he would have Neytiri make you some of her soup that she always made for you. After getting you home, you instantly fell asleep against your dad.

"I'll be back later with my mom with her medicine and her soup." Neteyam said as your dad thanked him.

"Y/n is sick?" Jake asked confused as you hadn't come over to him like you normally did when you got sick.

"Yeah me and her dad took her to grandmother this morning, so grandmother is making her some medicine and I'm gonna bring it to her." Neteyam said.

"Where is she right now?" He asked.

"Sound asleep in her dad's lap." He said making Jake confused as you never slept in your dad's arms before now.

After Neytiri finished making your soup, him and Neteyam made their way toward ya'lls tent, Jake wanting to see if what his son said about you was true. They gently walked in and sure enough there you were sound asleep in your dad's lap.

"Hey, we brought her medicine and my mom made her some soup that will help." Neteyam said as your dad gently woke you up.

"Here's your soup yawne, and then you can take your medicine so you start feeling better."

"He really cares for her huh?" Your dad asked watching you and Neteyam.

"He really does. They're good for each other. But since when did she start sleeping in your lap?" Jake asked him.

"Took me by surprise too, but she started last night. I gave her some medicine and she was out in my lap nearly gave me a heart attack, I half expected her to go to one of them or you even but decided to enjoy it while I could." He said.

"Yeah, it goes by too fast. Enjoy while you can. If you ever need a break let me know. Neteyam i'm heading home, I want you back by Eclipse." He said before leaving.

The next few days Jake would frown seeing you sleeping against your dad, which used to be his spot before your dad came back into the picture. At first, your dad found it amusing that you choose him instead of Jake and not gonna lie he did purposefully walk around with you in his arms or sit where he knew Jake would see him just to rub it in his face. But then it hit him how hard this must be for Jake to deal with since he did raise you while he was gone and decided to play nice.

"Hey, why don't you go lay with Jake while I go see what your brother is up to?" He said as you nodded your head.

"Hey, Jake do you mind if I lay with you?" You asked him making him smile.

"Of course, sweetheart thought you forgot about me." He said as you frowned.

"I could never, I'm sorry I made you feel that way." You said looking up at him.

"It's alright sweetheart, I know you have your dad now, I don't want to interfere with that." He said.

"You could never Jake, your just much my dad as he is, I'll just try to divide my time with you two better." You said making him smile.

"You are just as much my daughter as you are his, get some rest sweetheart." He said placing a kiss on your forehead.

Your dad came back and smiled seeing you sound asleep against Jake, which made him happy to see because him and Jake don't always get along, but he figured maybe for your sake that they could learn how to co-parent.

"Thank you for doing that." Jake said.

"I hate to say this but you and Neytiri did a great job raising them, especially her. So I think we can find a happy medium with sharing them." Quaritch said looking over at you.

#dad!quaritch x daughter!reader #dad!quaritch #dad!jakesully #dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #neteyam x socorro!reader #spider x sister!reader

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creedslove · 10 months

Text

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART SIX

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: your weekend on the ranch continues, as Wyatt enjoys every single aspect of it, the tension between you and Jack increases

(this is the sixth part of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE| PART TWO| PART THREE| PART FOUR| PART FIVE

Warnings: asshole!jack, angst, hurt, fluff (because Wyatt is soooo cute), mom!reader

A/N: oh besties, I don't know what to do to Jack honestly. He just can't get one single thing right. He opens his heart, only to make things wrong again, I love him, but it's getting tiring

2.4k words

Jack gripped his cheek as it burned and looked at you in pure shock and awe. He had no idea a frail little thing like yourself - as he envisioned you when it came to physical confrontation - but he'd be damned as your hand was heavy. You panted heavily as you wiped your lips and groaned

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Jack?" You roared at him, tears filling your eyes as you felt yourself anxious and hurt, that was just how little he thought of you: that he would offer you shelter for the weekend in exchange of fucking you. Over your dead body.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? I kissed you, it was an act of affection and you slapped me? Fuck you!"

"No, fuck you, Jack Daniels because you have been treating me like shit ever since you walked back into my life, you make sure to tell me every single time you hate me, you even told me to my face you never loved me, so now you think I'll let you kiss me just because you probably got a little horny? Why don't you leave $50 on the nightstand so I can have the full hooker experience?" You hissed, seeing he was angry at your refusal, even if he had no right to be angry.

Jack placed his hand on his hips and sighed deeply licking his lips softly and feeling a pang on his chest as they tasted like you

"I was trying to do something nice to you, figured you deserved some attention, after all pregnancy was rough on you, and it's not every guy who's gonna look at you now" he regretted his words as soon as they came out of his lips, he could tell he went too far and the worst was that it wasn't even true, he just wanted to hurt you because you hurt his pride and ego by refusing him.

You couldn't believe his words, he was such a pig, and you didn't even think before raising your hand and aiming for his cheek once more, you knew Jack deserved more than that, but you had never thrown a punch and you didn't even know if you could do it correctly, but he was faster catching your fist before you could hit him.

"Careful sugar, you are becoming a feisty little bit-"

"Don't call me a bitch, you wouldn't do that to your late wife, would you? Why are you doing this to me?" You raised your voice, not hiding all the hurt in it as he softened up for a while, letting go of your arm

"Don't talk about her, Y/N" he warned "you know damn well why I wouldn't call her that…" his tone was low but it carried so much anger and hurt, he knew he had crossed the line with you, but he thought you'd come back to your senses instead of dragging his wife into the middle of it.

"Yeah? Then go back to your grieving and leave me and my son alone" you spat at him and rushed out of the bedroom, finding Wyatt wandering through the home mesmerized. To him it was a big adventure and he felt the need to explore, he couldn't wait to start playing and didn't understand why his mommy and the cowboy were taking too long, so when he saw his mommy, his face lit up, being too caught up in his innocent excitement to see how sad she was

"Can we pway mommy?" He asked adorably and giggled as she picked him up, so happy to finally be able to go outside as you crossed the big living room and went out the door, but Wyatt frowned as soon as he realized they were heading towards the car, and not the green fields. His little heart sank as he didn't want to go home just yet, he wanted to play with his friend cowboy.

"Mommy no go home, pwease" he asked in a whimper but you didn't seem to have listened, so he tried again, louder this time, asking you not to go home. You didn't say anything else, expecting him to calm down as your son had always been such a calm and sweet child but when he started crying and begging you to stay, you didn't know what was happening to your sweet Wyatt, he was just having a meltdown in your arms, shaking his head and bawling as he didn't want to leave. If only he was a little older and you could explain him why you two shouldn't stay for any other minute at that house.

"Cowboy, pwease!!!" Wyatt wailed and felt a tiny hope in his chest as Jack rushed outside immediately "don't wet mommy take me, pwease" he cried and you could only feel Jack taking your son into his arm.

You looked back at him with so much anger and you were willing to fight for your son, but the way he wrapped his arms around his father's neck and breathed a sigh of relief to be away from you shattered your heart.

Of course Wyatt preferred his dad.

You sniffed as you looked at them "come with mommy, my love" you extended your arms at him but Wyatt turned away, hiding his face from you just like he did when he didn't like someone.

You bit your lips as you felt so hurt and rejected at that moment, you knew it wasn't his fault, he was a toddler, he didn't know the context of that situation and especially not the weight of his actions.

"Alright then" you whispered and looked down, walking towards the stable at a fast pace, there was at least one creature that wouldn't treat you badly in that place.

Helen was deeply upset to have witnessed the scene, she hated to see you so heartbroken and also Wyatt crying like that and she was also sure it had all to do with Jack. She wished she could yell at him, grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he got into his senses, but unfortunately she couldn't. He was a grown man even if he didn't act like one, he should be responsible for his actions.

She walked behind him, smiling at Wyatt and wiping his tears, "come see the dogs with me, they love to be petted" Helen offered, intending to take him to the kitchen first and get him a glass of water so he could calm down. Jack immediately got the hint and rubbed his son's back gently, up and down "it's okay Wyatt, mommy's just a little stressed, let's watch the dogs and other animals before we find her? I ain't letting you go home today buddy, you and mama are staying the whole weekend, got it?" He assured his son, who smiled softly and snuggled him, feeling so comfortable and safe in his arms.

•••

You spent a long time in the stables, not sure how long exactly but it was definitely hours, judging by how famished you felt as you fed those lovely animals. You've always loved horses, always seeing them in movies, on TV and on the internet, and you always liked what they looked like and how strong and yet gentle they could be; your passion for them really sprung when you started dating Jack and he introduced you to his horses. You remembered being dumbfounded to know he actually owned horses and it also made you come to the realization he had money, not that his overall lifestyle in the city and his ranch weren't enough evidence of it, but you've always heard horses were really expensive to own and take care of, and if there was something you couldn't accuse Jack Daniels of, was not taking care of his horses.

He was so gentle with them, patient, and he showed you the best way to approach and feed them and of course, brush them. And once he realized you loved doing such things, he let you do it. You did it almost every day, until Jack came home with a young mare he bought at a very cheap price because the owner was going to put her down, as she had been born with a problem on the hoof which caused her pain to run and she absolutely refused her. He was a softie at heart and bought her, knowing maybe you would like her.

And you fell in love with her beautiful gray fur and how sweet she was, so Jack was amused when you named her Silver Pony - like his jet.

You would spend so long with Silver Pony, telling her everything about your life and about your relationship with Jack. She was like a friend to you - and you addressed her with human pronouns, because she meant so much to you. And she seemed to understand you too, she showered you with affection and so much understanding coming from her sweet eyes. Even before you found out Wyatt was nothing more than a small bean inside of you, Silver Pony would greet you by gently rubbing her face against your womb, sniffing it gently and making you giggle.

The way you loved that horse, made Jack fall in love with you even more at the time you were together and that was why he knew you'd rush to your old friend after what happened. So he took Wyatt on a tour through the ranch, not without gifting him a stetson hat specially made for his son first and then leaving the stables for last, so you would have enough time to see Silver Pony and spend time with her until you were calm. In the meantime, Jack's heart melted at how cute his son, Wyatt, was the happiest he'd ever seen, watching the animals and being able to touch some of them. He liked chirping at the birds and giggled when he saw chicken because he thought they were so funny.

Then, Helen met them near the lake with a basket full of sandwiches and other yummy things. After what she'd witnessed, she thought it was better to replace lunch for a picnic and hoped maybe you would join them for dinner, as she had prepared your favorite.

As Wyatt chewed his sandwich calmly he looked up at Jack with sad little eyes "whewe's mommy? I miss mommy, cowboy" Jack's heart sank at his son's puppy eyes and wiped the crumbles from his hand before ruffing his hair "mommy is spending time with a special friend of hers, she's by the stable I'm sure and I'm also sure you'll love mommy's friend" he said with a sweet smile and could feel Helen's burning gaze on him. If Jack were the kind of man to blush, he would be blushing right now. Wyatt came closer and leaned his body against Jack's side, sighing softly.

"You know, your mommy was my… friend… and she used to live here with me for a few years, she was a lot of fun and I miss her" he said "but I was mean to her and even when I try to be nice to her, I end up being mean"

He frowned softly and looked up at him

"Why mean? Wyatt no wike mean" he said and waited for an answer as Jack swallowed

"Sometimes we behave bad even when we don't want to, right?" He watched as his son nodded "but your mama is a wonderful woman, and I love her just as I love you, Wyatt" the boy wrapped his small arms around the cowboy's big body and snuggled him tight "I wove you too cowboy" he said innocently and Helen teared up as she witnessed the moment, she wished so hard you could be there to see that scene and hear Jack's honest words, it was a heartfelt moment and she felt upset you had missed it.

Jack hugged Wyatt tight and kissed the top of his head, handing him his small stetson which he put it on excitedly and watched as Jack gathered the food and placed it back inside the basket "why don't we take these to the stables and have another picnic with mommy? She's probably hungry too" he suggested and saw as Wyatt nodded excitedly and quickly helped the cowboy to gather the food.

You were stroking Silver Pony's face as she stood next to you and smiled sadly the moment you spotted Jack and Wyatt walking side by side. You could see they were so similar and especially with the stupid hat on, even if your son looked too cute, it was still a reminder of who his father was.

When Wyatt saw you and the mare, he rushed to you, opening his arms and throwing himself into your arms "mommy!!!" He squealed and looked at you "I sowy mommy, I didn't want to make you cwy" Your heart shattered at how sweet your son was and you only held him tight, caressing his soft cheek and shook your head "I know baby, it's okay, and mommy is also sorry she made you cry" you said and kissed his forehead, loving how welcoming his small embrace was.

Jack shyly cleared his throat and showed you the basket

"We brought you some food, sug- I mean, Y/N" he opened it and began taking out the sandwiches, bottles of juice and cake "you must be hungry" he added hesitantly and you nodded "thank you" you said politely and grabbed a sandwich, taking a big bite out of it and Jack felt another ounce of guilt for making you starve like that, though you barely looked at him, instead you smiled at your son "honey, mommy wants you to meet Silver Pony" you told him and got up, taking his small hand and guiding him to the beautiful mare. Wyatt was mesmerized and jumped in excitement, he couldn't believe how beautiful and nice that horse was to him and immediately hugged her

"I wove you, I wove you, I wove you" he squealed at Silver Pony, never wanting to let go of her.

Jack also got up, taking a few steps closer and stood next to you

"Y/N, I want to talk to you… I want to apologize, really apologize, I don't know if there will ever be a forgiveness for leaving you and our son, and even if it did, I know I don't deserve it, but I do want to apologize for being so cruel to you… maybe after Wyatt goes to bed you could talk to me?" He asked, as you swallowed and looked at him "I spent the whole day crying because you can't go by ten minutes without offending me, Jack… do you think you can just give me your puppy eyes and I'll forgive you? Don't try to fix things, you don't care about me, you never loved me, you told me that yourself, just let me be and make it through this weekend so I can go back home with my son" you told him and walked towards Wyatt, the two of you showering Silver Pony in love and affection, as Jack watched the two of you at a small distance but feeling a complete outcast from your lives.

____

A/N: I don't know about you besties, but my heart is a little broken now 💔

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months

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Curtis Everett, Outta my mind by Monsune

"You've been haunting me for forty days and forty nights

I been waiting for the right time

To let you know that I been lookin' for you all of my life

Feels like walkin' on a landslide

Let me take you, take you down"

Sun In Your Eyes

Warnings: none

Character: Curtis Everett

Summary: You return something important to your neighbour.

As always, I appreciate all kinds of feedback. A like and reblog means so much to me! <3

“Tanya!” You shriek, “ew, that’s enough.”

You stick out your tongue over the top of your bottle. She can be so crass and her account of her last fling is hardly wholesome. She giggles and you can’t help but join her. God, you missed this.

“I’m gonna get to school and be a mile behind you, Yaya,” you sigh and take a swig of the Corona.

“Nah, you’ll catch up,” she winks as she leans back, her pink bikini top low on her cleavage, the bottoms skimpy and barely clinging to her hips. “Guys love the cute ones.”

“Cute,” you pout and look down at yourself. Excuse her, you’re wearing a two piece. The halter top and match high rise bottoms are a blue and white checker print you particularly adored.

“Ah, you know I’m the bad girl of the bunch, bestie,” she tilts her head back, basking in the sun as it glistens on her mellow skin. “I told you we should’ve done this at my place, no fun without a pool.”

“We have a pool,” you scoff and point to the kiddie pool by the fence.

She snickers and flicks you off. She lays back full on the lounger and flips down her sunglasses.

“Good thing your mom doesn’t count her Coronas or I wouldn’t have bothered.”

“Don’t be such a downer,” you chide as you take another deep gulp. The sun is hot and vibrant and the beer isn’t helping how it makes your head swim.

“You’re a terrible host,” she drains the last of her bottle and wiggles it in the air, “I’m in need of a refill.”

You stand and huff, dramatically trodding over in your flip flops, “and you’re a prize guest.”

You laugh and take the empty. Tanya’s funny. She talks a big game but she’s bent over backwards time and time again. She plays the bitch but has the biggest heart you know of.

“Maybe you should have some water?” You tease.

“Bring me some water and I’ll make sure to cool you off,” she threatens.

You snort and leave her. She fans herself with her hand as you peek back from the sliding door. Your gap year couldn’t end soon enough. Each day you regret your indecision and the months spent trying to pick a program all while pushing face cream down at the boutique.

As you pluck a fresh Corona from the lower shelf, the doorbell nearly has it slipping from your grasp. You set it on the counter and go to see which neighbour is there to tell you to turn your music down. You inch open the door and peek out, surprised at who awaits you on the other side.

“Hey, Curtis,” you greet awkwardly as you hid behind the door, “mom’s away with Dawn.”

“Ah,” the syllable rumbles in his chest. His lazy blue eyes meet yours as he brushes a hand over his buzzcut. The front of his grey tank top is soaked in sweat and streaked with oil, “no problem. Um, I lent her a wrench, I was just hoping to get it back.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t know… uh, yeah, let me see if I can find it.”

“Thanks,” he tucks his thumbs in his pockets and looks over his shoulder.

“Er, you wanna come in? It’s hot out here.”

“I’m fine,” he shrugs.

“Okay, well, you’re more than welcome,” you let the door open a little more, “I’ll just go check the mess drawer.”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t make a move to come inside. You leave the door open and skirt away to the kitchen. You pull open the junk drawer but there’s only duck tape and a pile of outdated bills. Hmmm. You flutter over to the closet behind the bathroom and sort through the box of old frames and cassettes. Shoot.

Oh, wait.

You rush back into the hall. Curtis’ shadow looms in the doorframe but you pay him no heed as you turn and head back to the sliding door. You let yourself out as Tanya rolls onto her stomach.

“Where’s my beer?” She pouts.

“Coming, just gotta…” you trail off and disappear into the shed. Got it.

You grab the wrench and hurry back across the yard. Tanya mutters, ‘typical’, but doesn’t complain further.

You bounce down the hall in triumph, forgetting yourself as you present the prize. “Here! Sorry, mom’s not really the organized type.”

“No problem,” his cheek dimples as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

You cross your arm over your stomach, suddenly embarrassed. Oh gosh, that must’ve been a rather ungraceful entrance. You hold out the wrench and he takes it slowly.

“Thanks. You get a pool or something?” He wonders.

“Just getting some sun,” you trill. Curtis isn’t usually that talkative. You only ever see him hiding behind his motorcycle, clunking away with his tools.

“Enjoying some beer?” He asks.

You give a guilty grin, “maybe.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you,” he spins the wrench in his hand. “I like that colour.”

You look down again and play with the loose strings that trails from behind your neck. You raises your shoulders sheepishly.

“Thanks, Mr. Everett.”

His cheeks colour slightly and he once more runs his hand over his closely-trimmed hair. He gives his own attire a self-conscious look. He tugs the bottom of his tank and peeks up at you again.

“Sorry, I’m a bit of a mess,” he mutters, “well, uh,” he examines the wrench in his hand and tilts it towards you emphatically, “thanks.”

“No problem.”

He turns and marches to the top step. He pauses and turns back as you ease the door towards the frame. You stop as he shifts back on his heel.

“You can call me Curtis, I don’t mind.”

He sets back on his path and you watch him trod to the curb. As he peers back and forth down the street, he rolls his shoulders and wiggles the wrench in his hand. He tosses it and catches it before he continues on. He must really need that wrench.

#curtis everett #drabble #request #snowpiercer

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lavender--fairy · 2 years

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heyy fairy!! (im the anon you talked to in your dm long ago ) i just wanna tell you and everyone THAT I FUCKING GOT INTO THE VOID!! I AM LITERALLY CRYING RN JDCBIJDBCH (long post!!) okay okay so basically i was trying since like 5 months and nothing, i didnt even feel the symptoms that other anons did which made me so frustrated that i cried my eyes out every night. After that my self concept got so down because of all the failing attempts. I decided to keep affirming no matter what, exactly like you told me to do. i affirmed when i didnt feel good, i affirmed when i feel like it wasnt working, i affirmed no matter what and kept trying every night, when i failed i'd still affirm, yesterday was no different day i mean i didnt feel extra powerful or anything i just affirmed for a while and then i slept, after a while i woke up to see myself in a completely black place i couldnt even feel my body and i realized instantly that i was in the void so i affirmed for my desires and decided to come back. and when i got back i felt like crying because after all this time i finally did it!! i was gonna check for my results but i felt exhausted so i decided to sleep when i accidentally knocked something down and when i saw what it was it was THE PHONE I MANIFESTED KDJCBUDHDB!! i literally wanted to scream, but i didnt even check it because idk i wanted to keep it all as a surprise for the morning lol. anyways i woke in the morning and as soon as i did i went to see my face and I STOOD THERE IN SHOCK BROO LIKE THAT IS ME?? THAT PRETTY ASS GIRL IN THEE MIRROR IS ME?? i was so excited omfg. idk even know how long i was just standing there admiring myself and t felt so weird because i never thought i was pretty and then i ran to check my phone and saw that MY BF?? THAT I NEVER HAD BUT NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN DO?? TEXTED ME A GM MESSAGE!! i stalked him for a while and gurl istg i dont think i will ever look at any other guy!! like he is so fucking fineee i was straight up drooling ong. then i thought i was forgetting to check something else that i manifested, until i opened my closet for taking a shower to see sooo many pretty clothes (i just realized i forgot to take the shower and had a fashion show instead byee lmfao) and and and on top of that i also found like a $1000 in pockets of one of the clothes and i already spent some money cause i have no self control. I am just sitting here still processing everything like broo this is real?? ALL THIS IS REALL!! to anyone who needs it: PLZZ PLZZ LISTEN TO FAIRY CAUSE SHE IS THE ONLY REASON I AM HERE WITH MY DESIRES!! keep persisting no matter what!! it will be so worth it, like at this point i dont even remember my struggles i am just so happy and proud. Your subconscious doesnt have eyes, it only listens to what you are constantly telling it, and also please focus on your inner convos i realized that i was talking shit about the void for soo long. To fairy the lmol: bestie you are the only reason i got into the void and no no you cant deny it. i would have given up and would still be crying like a bitch but omg i have everything i could ever want!!

hey butterbean!! THIS IS THE BEST THING TO EVER HAPPEN TO ME OMGG!!! i am so proud of you bestie, i remember how used to tell me that you were on the edge of giving up and here you are!!! omgg i feel like a proud mom lmaoo Guys please please keep persisting and i promise you will be your own success story!!

#law of assumption #manifesting #manifestation #master manifestor #motivation #neville goddard #shifting #reality shifting #reality shift #successtory #the void #manifesation #visualization #affirmations #lavendiary

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99hook · 6 months

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Bestie #8 and #18

I’m soft now 😭

8. “You don’t have to pretend to be alright around me”

18. “Of course you can hold my hand”

—

“You’re nervous.” He says, gently grabbing your arms and rubbing his hands up and down them.

You knitted your brows at him as if he just said something insane, and he had to hold back his smile at that look you sent him.

“No, i’m just-“

“You don’t have to pretend to be alright around me.” he cuts you off. “It’s okay to be nervous. I was nervous as hell when I met your family for the first time, too.”

“You were? You didn’t seem like it.”

“Just ask my mom when you meet her. I was on the phone with her the whole time I was on the way to your mom’s house. She was telling me all the right things to say cause I was sure I was gonna screw up and they were gonna hate me.”

“They love you.” You tell him, and he smiles wide.

“And my family is gonna love you too. They already do, actually.” He grins.

You felt a little less anxious, but still had so many nerves crashing through you and it was nearly impossible to settle even just half of them.

“You ready?” He asks, and you let your true feelings show when you shook your head. He chuckled, and placed a kiss to your forehead.

“I promise there’s nothing to be worried about. They’ve been dying to meet you for a while now.”

You let a small smile slip onto your lips, and looked down for a second, unsure why you felt the need to ask, but for some reason you did.

“Can I hold your hand? It always makes me feel better.” You admit, and when you look back into his eyes you can see that he was a little confused at first.

You felt his fingers intertwine with yours right before he said, “Of course you can hold my hand.”

You smiled up at him, already feeling a little less nervous when he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“And never ask me that again.” He chuckles. “You can hold my hand, hug me, kiss me, whatever you want, whenever you want. You know that.”

“I know, i’m just… I’m nervous, okay!” You managed to laugh, and he smirked down at you before he placed one last kiss on your forehead, and reached for the door.

“I know, but you’re about to see there’s no reason to be. They are gonna love you just as much as I do.”

#hook aew #hook aew x reader #tyler senerchia

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fantasylandloser · 1 year

Text

Driving Lessons

pairing: bestie!rafe x reader

summary: Rafe teaches reader how to drive

A/N: I am well aware two people can not fit into the driver's side of a car, but this came from the deep crevices of my mind so let's just pretend that it's possible.

p.s: I really need to learn how to drive

*********

You settle yourself in between Rafes muscular thighs, anxiously shifting as he explains everything to you. You try your best to focus on his instructions but you were already nervous and on the cusp of backing out.

You were with Rafe on the driver's side of his truck. The expensive truck was large and had enough space in it to fit you and Rafe, snuggly. His thighs were open wide to give you enough space, but your thighs were practically melted to his due to the summer heat.

He had begged you to let him teach you how to drive, when he found out you didn’t know how. At first he’d been shocked, never knowing a nineteen year old who didn’t know how, but he was starting to often be reminded of the extent of his privilege and while usually it made him happy to know he had things other people didn’t, knowing it was you this time made him feel the opposite. It was your idea for him to be on the driver’s side with you, when he suggested his expensive truck, knowing that you did not want to ruin something you could not afford to pay for and you’d rather he be right there to fix a mistake rather than on the passenger side.

Topper had come with because he was always with the two of you, the three of you had all been unlikely friends, even though you were the only one that was unlikely. You grew up on the other side of the island until recently when your mom won the lottery and decided to go full kook. Rafe and his family came to greet you, and they invited your family to a dinner and the two of you had been joined at the hip since then.

“Okay, you ready now?” Rafe said after going through his long detailed explanation and you realized that he was terrible at explaining things.

“Not at all.” You tell him, making Topper laugh.

“It’s easy really, you think they’d let this dumbass have a license if it wasn’t?” Topper jokes, knowing it would ease your nerves. And it does a bit, you laugh as well when Rafe raises his middle finger to Topper.

“Okay…” You exhale a deep breath trying to shake your nerves out. “Topper put your seatbelt on.” You demand, to which he complies after raising his hands to surrender.

You look behind you, checking to see if Rafe had his on, only to be met with blue eyes about one inch from your face. You try quickly to stop the goofy smile from growing on your face, when you see his cheeky little grin, but you fail like always.

“Here we go.” Topper says from the passenger seat, rolling his eyes. He was unsure why the two of you hadn’t gotten together already and he made sure to let Rafe know that he thought he was stupid every time you were gone.

“Put your seatbelt on too.” You say sassily.

“It’s not gonna go around both of us.” He refuses, knowing you would hate it.

“So?” You question. “I don’t know how to drive, like at all. So put it on.” You demand again, only for him to remain stubborn.

“If you don’t have one on, I won’t have one on.” He tells you, and you can tell he thinks he’s funny, and Topper seems to agree from the other seat as he watches with clear amusement. You roll your eyes not bothering to waste your breath, before you shift so that you’re facing him a little more. You reach up grabbing the seat belt and dragging it across his chest before clicking it in place. You quickly close the gap you created so that he wouldn’t have time to take it off, unknowingly pressing your ass further into his crotch than it was before.Rafe was hanging on by a thread really.

“Okay now tell me what to do again.”

#rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe fluff #outerbanks rafe #fantasylandloserfic

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ker0senebunny · 2 years

Text

meet me behind the mall✫*ﾟ･ﾟ

steve harrington x fem!reader

part ii — 9/25/22

summary: steve was never yours to lose. you went in knowing that, but god, you'd give anything to go back to that summer. a tale of childhood enemies, kisses in cars, and the best summer of your life. inspired by my favorite track from folklore. enemies to almost lovers. focuses primarily on seasons 2, 3, and 4. (angst, fluff, smut)

warnings: afab!fem!reader, language, angst, fluff, smut (18+), dom!steve strikes again except he's a lil meaner, sub!reader, drinking/use of alcohol, but no use of sir or daddy etc, praise + degredation combo yktv, oral (m!recieving, mentions of f!receiving), mentions of penetration (pls remember to practice safe sex!!), mentions of fingering, use of pet names, size kink (for like one second), dirty talk, no use of y/n, kinda asshole!steve but pt ii is gonna be more soft s3 steve. promise. all characters are 18+, beta'd (freakin finally) by @flwersgarden, @royalmaybank, @appocalipse, and @kissmxcheek

word count: 9,596 (jeez. now u all see why it took so long)

notes: first of all: thank you to my absolutely lovely proofreaders/editers/besties. you all are always kind, always encouraging, always loving. you motivate me on my most unmotivated days. i admire you all so much as writers and as wonderful people. with that being said, it's been a while, hasn't it! so sorry for the delay. college is very overwhelming! anyways, as you see above, the sequel will (hopefully) be out in two weeks. this is part i of iii so strap in everybody. enjoy! xox olive

p.s. 500 followers wtf??? thankyou im gonna stinkin cry. and as always, reblogs are greatly appreciated. thank u for the lurv (srsly)

when steve harrington loves someone, he makes it known. which perfectly explains why he didn’t want to make you known.

you wanted him to be the boy who walked you up your driveway, moths fluttering against the porch light overhead. you wanted him to take your chin between his fingers and tilt your lips toward his. you wanted to taste the watermelon lip balm he’d borrowed from you. you wanted him to wait until you unlocked the door, almost slipping inside, before turning around to feel the plush of his lips against yours just once more.

and you foolishly believed that he could be that boy.

instead, you got rushed calls asking you to meet him behind the mall in his BMW and a stupid nickname.

steve was probably your greatest enemy (no, you’re not exaggerating. a years-long feud has earned him that title). but it was fine. after all, you had your best friend robin. the two of you were planning on moving to california after high school, dreaming of a shabby apartment with peeling paint that you’d cover up with photos of friends and posters. maybe you’d coparent a cat. you didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life, yet. you just couldn’t handle hawkins anymore. it was a drab little town, rusted and decaying. not quite past its prime — there wasn’t really ever a prime. you just wanted more.

steve was your next door neighbor. to say things had been rocky between the two of you would be an understatement. your parents were on good terms, and you and steve used to be sort-of-maybe-kind-of friends.

it all started when an ice cream truck pulled onto your ritzy street. you ran out of your house at full force: nine years old, with one tooth missing in the front. you had begged your mom for her spare change right before you sprinted out the door. you just had to get the last cherry ice pop. but someone was there before you; you watched as the truck driver placed a red “x” over your precious ice pop flavor. you were dejected, preparing to go back inside when you caught a glimpse of a striped shirt out of the corner of your eye. it was steve harrington, your older next door neighbor who lived just over the fence to the right of you. you threw a determined look in the direction of the brown-haired boy before marching up to him. you tapped him on the shoulder and he looked at you, confusedly. you held out your little palm, coins clinking and set in the center.

“i’ll pay you extra for that ice pop,” you said, your mouth set into a serious line. steve seemed interested, quirking his brows up, hazel eyes shimmering in the indiana humidity. “how much do you have?” he asked, nodding at your hand. you counted the coins in your hand. “i have one dollar. and i know you paid fifteen cents for that ice pop. i’ll give you the whole dollar for it.” he pondered your deal for a couple of seconds before saying, “nah, i’m good!” and walking around you, back toward his house. you turned around to chase him as as he walked toward his house. “please, steve! cherry is my favorite,” you begged, putting on your best pitiful face that always worked on your parents and stopping right in front of him. you watched as his face changed, and you thought you’d won. “oh cherry’s your favorite?” he asked. you nodded so vigorously that your summer dress waved in the muggy air. “tough luck,” he said before unwrapping the ice pop and taking a big bite in front of you. you stood there, mouth agape as he exaggeratedly enjoyed what should’ve been your ice pop, right in front of you no less! he licked his crimson-dyed mouth as he threw the barren popsicle stick into the garbage can in his driveway. “see you around, cherry,” he said as he walked up to his porch and slammed the door to his house.

that’s how you became cherry to steve and steve only. he annoyed you every day of your life with that stupid fucking nickname.

on your first day of freshman year, you popped into the entrance of hawkins high with robin, your best friend since middle school. steve saw you, whistled, and yelled down the hall, causing everyone to stare at you: “hey, sweet cherry! look at you, all grown up.” your excited face morphed into a fiery glare as you angrily walked past him, skirt swishing. his goons howled and cackled as you seethed, robin turning around to flip them off.

it wasn’t like the two of you fought every time you were around one another. okay, it totally was. but it was because he was such an insufferable dickhead and you were definitely not going to take his bullshit lying down.

he started dating nancy during your sophomore year, something you learned as you walked to his car in the morning, opening the door to the passenger side before his hand shot out to stop you. you rolled your eyebrows. “steve, i have a big history test today and i’m not in the mood for whatever the fuck you’re doing.” he rolled his eyes back at you. “we’re picking up my girlfriend,” he said, kicking at the loose gravel in his driveway. your eyebrows flew to the top of your forehead. “girlfriend?” your voice rising so high in pitch that it came out as a squeak. “and you haven’t managed to be an utter douche yet?” he rolled his eyes so hard you were afraid they'd get stuck there. “just get in the backseat, cherry,” he said as he slid into the car.

you looked at the smooth leather incredulously as steve adjusted his rearview mirror. you gingerly pushed your bag into the car, making sure your body touched the seat as little as possible. “i don’t even want to know what’s happened back here,” you said as you shuddered. steve caught your gaze in the mirror, a piece of gum popped in his mouth. “y’know, cherry, you’ve had many chances to find that out for yourself,” he said with a teasing lilt to his lips. you scrunched your nose in disgust and made a retching noise. “i’d rather drink a t-shirt through a straw,” you said in a huff. to your surprise, he actually laughed.

you hadn’t been paying attention, choosing to review your history notes one more time and so you didn’t realize you pulled up to the wheeler house. now, you were extra intrigued. steve honked twice and rolled down the window as nancy wheeler approached, giving her a kiss at which you gagged. he glared at you through the rearview mirror.

“nancy, you know cherry. my enemy,” he said as he pulled out of her driveway, a hand on the back of the passenger seat. you saw the veins and tendons in his arm flex under suntanned skin from a summer of lake days and pineapple sunscreen. nancy gave you a shy smile, which you returned. you also told her your real name and explained to her that for some reason, her dipshit boyfriend couldn’t let go of something that happened when you were kids. she laughed prettily at your words and a weird feeling settled on your chest, an unwelcome and quite frankly, bothersome weight. she returned to a gooey conversation with steve, letting you simmer uncomfortably in the backseat.

you blocked out their lovey-dovey-whatever-the-fuck with your flash cards.

you hated yourself for it, but when steve and nancy started falling apart, you were kind of glad. you’d actually gotten pretty close to nancy because of all the carpooling, often seeking one another out during your classes to giggle about something one of the basketball jocks said. so you hated yourself for your glee at seeing them leave separately at a halloween party. you didn’t even really understand why it felt like that intrusive weight had been lifted from your chest. you convinced yourself that you were just relieved that youur dear friend dumped that idiot.

at the moment, you were dressed up in your sluttiest costume, batting away gross high school boys who tried to woo you. you were dressed as a pixie: a form fitting, dark green dress, so short that the distressed skirt barely brushed the top of your thighs. you finished off your look with a cute pair of wings. you were just trying to enjoy the night with robin; the two of you made it a habit to people-watch at these things. well, because drunk people were funny and easy to make fun of. it’s not mean, it’s just the truth.

you saw steve walk in and immediately nudged robin to snort at his stupid risky business costume, but then he took his sunglasses off. and he saw you. and he looked you up and down over the edge of those stupid sunglasses. and he ran his stupid tongue over his stupid pretty mouth. and maybe it was the vodka running through you (cherry flavored of course), but god, in that moment, you just wanted him.

you shook yourself from your lustful stare and broke eye contact with him. he slipped his glasses back on and followed a very distressed looking nancy deeper into the party. again, probably the cherry vodka, but you didn’t seem to notice her coming your way. she called your name to get your attention and an easy smile made its way onto your face. “nance!” you giggled as you moved to squeeze her. she laughed at your tipsy self and made sure that you were okay before giving steve an unsure look and getting herself a drink. you were left with steve as he took off his sunglasses again, just to look you in the eye. you looked to your left, but robin was nowhere to be seen.

“you look good, cherry,” he said lowly, taking you in once again.

your breathing was a little uneven. “tha-thank you,” you said, looking at your green fingernails against the red of the solo cup in your suddenly clammy hands. he leaned one arm against the wall behind you, blocking your view of the kitchen.

“really good,” he said at a volume only you could hear. you shuddered as you felt blood rush to the surface of your cheeks, warming them to the touch. it was definitely the alcohol in your body because here you were, getting horny over steve fucking harrington. a) your enemy and b) the boyfriend of one of your friends. thank god said friend returned that instant, pulling steve away to dance, seemingly refreshed by a shot of tequila. you gave nancy's hand a squeeze before she left, mouthing the words “call me later” at her. you thought that something was off with her. obviously, she was still grieving barb’s death - something that she confided in you. but you had a feeling that there was more there.

sometimes, it’s scary how on the nose you are with things.

at least an hour ago, robin told you that she was going to walk home with vickie, a girl who was in marching band with her. you were a comfortable amount of tipsy: the kind of drunk where every blink feels like a new, warmly-tinted world. but not so drunk that you’d make catastrophic decisions.

you didn’t need alcohol to do that.

you decided that it was time to leave. you’d finally gotten bored of watching all the people you knew make a fool of themselves. you walked outside, past cups littered on the lawn and through the october chill, to see steve sitting in his car - alone. you furrowed your brow before crossing your arms to create a little warmth and walking over. you gently knocked on the driver’s side window, startling the boy. he had a vacant look in his red-rimmed eyes. steve rolled down the window before sighing out, “cherry, i’m really not in the mood to fight right now.”

now you had to know what happened.

“i’m not here to fight with you,” you said as you leaned in closer, “i saw you when i came out and just wanted to check in.” you said it so plainly, like it was an obvious truth and not a huge contradiction to the entirety of your relationship. steve felt like his lungs had started again. he rolled up the window before pushing open the passenger seat door. you’d just barely settled into the seat and closed the door before he said, “nance told me she doesn’t love me.” you turned to face him. “steve, she was super drunk-“ he looked at you with more raw emotion than you’d ever seen from him. “cherry.” he stopped you in the middle of your sentence. “i know that she meant it.” you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t know how to handle comforting the one person you’d hated for what felt like a lifetime.

you turned your whole body to face him before stretching across the console to give him an awkward hug. he went stiff in your grasp as you looped your arms around his shoulders. “what the hell are you-“ “shut up, dipshit,” you said, “i’m giving you a goddamn hug. just accept it. you can win her back, y’know? you can be sort of sweet, sometimes.” he actually relaxed at your words and pushed his cheek into the space between your collarbone and your neck. you felt him inhale against your skin and your flesh pebbled. he slowly wrapped his arms around you too, pulling you into him. you squeaked in surprise and he chuckled, the warmth and the vibrations of his low voice extended through your entire being. “thank you, cherry. needed this.” you hummed. “of course, steve. i don’t actually hate you, did you not know that?” you felt him shrug. “honestly? i couldn’t tell.” you threw your head back and laughed, the sound taking up the small amount of space in his car. as you stopped laughing, you noticed that you were almost on his lap, your hands moving to rest against his broad chest. his pretty pink pout inched closer toward yours. there was a fraction of an inch between the two of you. “steve,” you said softly into the air between you two, “we can’t. there’s still nance to think about. you haven’t actually broken up yet.” he shook his head, a hand coming to rest on your hip. you could feel the warmth of his hand through your flimsy skirt. “there’s no nance. there’s only you right now, cherry.”

when steve harrington kisses someone, he wants them to feel it. and he wants them to feel it everywhere.

you definitely did.

he pushed his silken lips to join yours, sending you into a spiral, body thrumming with feverish passion. his kiss was needy, as if you were a replacement for someone else but he just needed someone. but you didn’t care. because that wasn’t the craziest thing about this…entire experience. your arms had wound themselves around his neck, his arms around your waist, tugging you across the console.

of course, you tasted like cherries. steve groaned as he caught your bottom lip in his teeth, silently asking you to open your mouth for him. your little gasp allowed him to slip is tongue into your mouth; his big hands tugging you even more into his lap. he kissed you like it would be the last thing he ever did on this godforsaken earth. you clumsily crawled to his seat, planting yourself in his lap. you both laughed into the kiss, before melding your lips together once again. he kissed you breathless, watching as your lips shone with a mixture of his and your spit. he pulled you toward him to plant another passionate kiss on your mouth, before making his way down your neck. steve sucked little bruises into the column of your throat and savored the taste of your sweet soap. he left a vine of dark, blooming spots as you writhed and shivered on top of him. you pitched your hips over his, causing your clothed core to run over the ridge of his growing bulge. he kissed all the way down to your chest, running his hands up and down your sides, causing you to shiver. he bit down gently on the swell of your left breast, gently sliding his hand under the delicate strap of your dress, pulling down on the elastic to reveal your entire breast. you pushed your chest forward and he grunted out a laugh as he wrapped his pink pout around your stiffened, pert nub. you were throwing your head back to give him more access to your tits, lost in the pleasure, when suddenly his horn beeped — startling you both. you looked at him with your matching kiss-stung lips, your eyes wide. he was still breathing heavily.

you looked at the dark sparkle of steve’s eyes and the flush to the tips of his ears. you smiled down and leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his head. you stopped abruptly, smoothing down his collar in a calming motion. “is everything okay?” you asked delicately. even though your bodies were pressed together, you and steve couldn't have been further from one another. he ran a hand over his face and sighed. “i can’t do this cherry.” you gave him a small smile of pained understanding and slid off of his lap.

he put the car into drive.

the ride toward both of your houses was silent, save for the wind rushing past the window you opened. you’d needed to cool off after what had just occurred; you may have betrayed one of your friends by furiously making out with her boyfriend (who she thinks you hate) and you kissed steve harrington. the boy who gave you the dumbest nickname he could think of so he could use you as personal entertainment.

because that’s what he does. he uses people.

steve pulled up to your house, and as you moved to open your door, he gently took your wrist in his hold. you halted your movements, turning your head to look at him. “i just want you to know that this didn’t mean anything, cherry. it can't.” you felt as if your brain had plummeted to your feet. you blinked in shock. “what do you mean?” you asked, arms crossed in front of you, brows high. “that. in my car. it didn’t mean anything to me.” you were stunned. he kissed you first, and when you reciprocated, he reciprocated with even more fervor. you scoffed before exiting his car. “you’re never going to find ‘the one’ if you keep treating girls like shit, steve.” you slammed his car door, causing him to jump a little at the force. you trudged up the stairs to your porch as shameful tears burned at your waterline.

you heard the quiet rumble of his car as he waited for you to safely enter your home. your fingers trembled in the crisp fall air as you slipped through your door. he simply turned to go to his house. you could see the marks your teeth had left, lavender and garnet winding their way around his neck.

(and then he had the audacity to ignore you for almost an entire week.)

your parents were asleep as you padded up the carpeted stairs. you quietly shut the door to your room, running your hands over your face. there was a post it left atop the phone on your nightstand — a note from your mother. it said that you had a call from nancy and to make sure that you called her back. your still shaking hands picked up the phone, dialing the wheeler family’s number. your slightly drunken brain was all muddled, from both the alcohol and the memory of steve’s plush kisses seared into your skin. so muddled, in fact, that you’d barely remembered that it was past midnight. thankfully, it seemed that nancy was awaiting your call, picking up after only a few rings. you waited for her to say something, calling out her name gently to get her attention, closing your eyes as sobriety started to make your head ache.

”steve and i broke up.”

your eyes popped open in surprise. “what? why?” you spluttered, unsure how to support her. she seemed subtly different — distanced, even. “i don’t think i ever loved him,” she said. she sounded exhausted. “i’m so sorry nance,�� you said, heart making a dull, incessant thudding in your ribcage. sure, on a technicality he’d been single, but now he was your friend’s ex. she sighed into the phone. you could picture her curling and uncurling the thick, coiled wire as she talked to you. “eh, it was for the better. he just used me to prove that he could get me, y’know? i don’t think he actually wanted me.” you didn’t say anything. of course you knew better. of course you knew that he did, in fact, actually love her. “what an asshole!” you said indignantly, “give me the word nance and i’ll climb into his room from mine and rock his shit.” her laugh trickled out of the tiny speaker, crackled but joyous. “you always make me feel better,” she said to you in earnest, “thank you. you’re just one of those people who would never hurt me. i’ll call you tomorrow.” your pulse seemed to fall out of your body. but you didn’t tell her that; she needed the you she knew, not the you who almost fucked her ex two seconds after they broke up. “of course, nance. i love you.” that’s what you settled on. you both bid one another good night and hung up the phone. you grabbed your stuffed teddy and curled around it, falling just on the line between consciousness and sleep.

you had a reputation of being a good babysitter so when claudia henderson calls, you pick up. dustin was one of your favorite kids in hawkins, constantly making you laugh with his quips and contagious smile. on that particular fall weekend morning (claudia had a wedding to go to), dustin was determined to see steve. he kept dragging out your name, pestering you with a whiny tone of voice. “please!” he said as you spread mustard on his sandwich at the kitchen counter. “absolutely not!” you sang, keeping up with your rhythmic smearing. dustin groaned and put his head on the counter like a toddler. he said something, but it was muffled by the granite surface. “come again?” you said with a small smile on your face at his antics. dustin raised his head, blowing curls away as they blocked his vision. “he’s just helping me look for dar— i mean, for mews. please?” you sighed at his pleas. you couldn’t deny that your heart clenched at the thought of the innocent boy and his missing cat. “fine,” you said, rinsing off the knife you’d been using and giving dustin his lunch. “but i’m not letting you out of my sight. i’m in charge. capiche?” he nodded and thanked you through his chewing, oblivious to the storm rampaging through your mind at the thought of seeing steve.

you’d been trudging through dry leaves for what felt like hours, but was probably more like 20 minutes. when you’d arrived at this shady meeting spot with dustin, steve spat out your name. you winced internally at the omission of the nickname you claimed to hate. “what’s she doing here, henderson?” he asked, with venom lacing his voice. as if you were the one to initiate a kiss, tell him that it meant nothing, and ignore you for no reason. he was giving dustin quite a look, one you took to mean that he didn’t want you there because of the kiss. what you didn’t know was that steve wanted you as far away as possible from the dangers of the upside down. but of course, you had no idea that steve and dustin had been through literal hell together. “i’m in charge of dustin for today, so i’m staying,” you said, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows in a challenge. “stubborn as always, cherry,” he said into the empty forest, not even bothering to look at you.

so, you spat back, “fuck you, harrington.”

“almost did, baby,” he said over his shoulder.

your mouth was agape. your vision turned white hot with rage at his immaturity. so you did what any rational person would do.

a crack rang out and spread throughout the wood. steve held his cheek where an imprint of your delicate hand was beginning to redden. your own hand stung from the force with which you slapped him, a tingle spreading through your palm. dustin looked on with shock in his big brown eyes. steve just turned toward the abandoned railroad track and began walking, rubbing his jaw.

the two of them were spreading meat all over the forest floor, and when you’d asked, dustin had given you some half-baked excuse. you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it, but you were so stressed out that you let it slide. you walked with your arms crossed to keep out the autumn bluster that permeated your cream-colored sweater. the red ribbon in your hair blew gently in the breeze, and steve thought about his hands embedded in your hair, his mouth on yours, you, in his car. in his bed, waking up to your face. he returned to the present when he heard you ask dustin about if he was sure "mews" was in this “creepy forest.”

you were looking at steve, too. he looked a little too good in his jeans and gray members only jacket. his hair was coiffed over as per usual, but you kept thinking about how you’d mussed it beyond repair the last time you saw him. you felt embarrassment and a little excitement rush to your cheeks as you tried to look anywhere but at him and his stupid, perfect face. and he had a bat with nails in it. why he took it with him to look for a cat, you didn’t know. but it was kind of hot.

he’s a dick, you quickly chastised yourself.

“dude, that’s not how you impress a girl,” you heard steve say. you were intrigued. you knew that dustin probably also told steve about his crush on max, and steve being just so good with girls was about to give him some advice.

“i don’t know. you’re trying way too hard,” steve continued.

dustin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “well, not everyone can have your perfect hair. alright?” he retorted.

steve rolled his eyes right back. “it’s not about the hair, man. the key with girls is just…just acting like you don’t care.”

you snorted at that, causing both of them to turn to look at you. steve narrowed his eyes as you challenged his words. “got something to add, cherry?” he said with that tone of voice that made you want to tackle him. a small smile made its way to your pretty lips. the same lips that steve couldn’t get himself to stop thinking about. “that’s not how you show a girl that you like her.” dustin was suddenly enraptured by your perspective. “what do i have to do? tell me!” the boy begged you. you laughed at his urgency. “show her that you do care. communicate with her. be clear about what you want with her,” you said with certainty, before continuing, “be kind to her. do something for her that you know she’ll like.” steve was silent. you thought he was upset by you stealing his thunder, but really, he was deep in thought. why was he thinking about you? why was he thinking about how he kept your favorite watermelon lip balm in his car (just in case you needed some. he definitely didn’t use it to see what you’d taste like)? why was he thinking of sneaking through your window to kiss you silly and wake up with his face in your neck, your hands on his back? why was he thinking of you, his cherry, instead of nancy? he blinked to clear his mind of thoughts of you, before grumbling something about the light disappearing.

on that day, you were supposed to be watching dustin. except for the fact that the child you were supposed to keep safe, was very much indeed, missing. you’d called him down for dinner over 15 minutes ago. he told you that he was going to do some homework after your excursion with steve. when no response came from his room, you’d searched the entire henderson household, frantically moving shower curtains and drapery aside. you almost gave up when you saw that the laundry room window was open, and you knew that your favorite little shit had gotten out. you went out into the living room to center yourself as you felt panic sink in. a loud crackle brought you out of your deep breathing. it was one of dustin’s extra walkie talkies on the coffee table. you grabbed it and fiddled with the dial until you heard small voices calling dustin’s name. “dustin! where are you? we’re almost at the junkyard.” a beep, another crackle. “almost there! it was tough to get out, guys. give me a break.” it was dustin. your mind went into protective mode as you shoved your feet into your converse and grabbed the walkie talkie. you rushed outside and took one of the spare bikes in the hendersons' garage before booking it to the old junkyard, the light sinking beneath the horizon and dusting the world around you in night.

when you arrived, you saw dustin and lucas (whom you knew), along with a redheaded girl and wait— steve? “dustin!” you yelled, worry evident in your voice. everyone’s heads whipped toward you, all four sets of eyes equally as wide. you marched toward the group, wading through the darkness and the heavy fog, fully prepared to drag dustin home. “cherry, you can’t be here,” steve said, taking a step toward you. “don’t tell me what to do, harrington. i mean nothing to you, remember?” steve didn’t know how to respond. his mouth moved as he reached for some way to tell you, no, cherry, honey. i can’t let you see this.

“i’m staying,” you said with finality. steve moved to protest again, but you both jumped at a rattling nearby. something growled and steve raised his bat. “cherry, take the kids and get in the bus,” he said, eyes flitting around — alert. “eat shit harring-” “cherry,” he said. he said that stupid nickname like he’d never said it before, urgently, tenderly, begging. you nodded breathing out a little “okay” as you herded the children toward the rusty vehicle. you all peered out as steve called to the creature, taunting it. lucas was looking through his binoculars when he gasped. “steve,” he screamed. “watch out!” steve kept his eyes trained on the monstrosity emerging from the fog. “a little busy here,” he said, licking his lips in anticipation of a fight. “three o’clock!” lucas yelled again. before you knew it, dustin was running toward the bus door, throwing it open, and calling steve’s name, and yelling “abort! abort!” you pulled dustin back in, hands trembling as you saw one of the creatures lunge at steve. he dodged successfully, rolling over the hood of a desolate car. another one launched itself at him and your heart seized in fear. luckily, he was fast enough to swing his bat at it; it landed with a half-whimper, half-growl. you realized that you were screaming now too.

“steve! hurry!” you cried, desperation tearing through in your voice. he was running now, running harder than ever now that he’d heard your sobs for him. he jumped in at the last second, just as you threw your arms out and shut the door. the creature’s body landed with a sickening thud against the door. more creatures gathered with the original, scratching at the door and shaking the bus. you scrambled to get the kids behind you as steve fortified the door. one broke through the door; everyone was yelling but you pushed the kids to the back of the bus as steve beat the monster with his bat. you joined him at the front, taking a nearby metal rod to help, knocking the beast to the ground, where it heaved weakly. one of its brethren saw your attack and charged at you. steve reacted in a heartbeat. he was on the monster in an instant, viciously hitting it with his bat. after a few more seconds, the creature made a shuddering move before laying still. the one previously attacking steve seemed to orient itself. it snarled, all dripping teeth and ragged growls, and threw itself at steve. he was unsuccessful, and to your horror, was about to go for steve’s throat. your name was caught on his tongue as he looked to you for comfort, for anything. and he saw it in your eyes. he saw everything you were afraid to tell him. but then, the monsters seemed to be enchanted by something, something you couldn’t perceive. they suddenly leaped out and off of the bus. relief flowed through your veins as you realized everyone was in tact. steve was in tact. you noticed that the two of you were smushed together as the kids regrouped next to you. you both pretended not to notice that steve’s arm was encircling your waist, rubbing at the sliver of skin that your top revealed.

“what the fuck was that steve?” you breathed out. you felt his chest rise beneath your back. “a demodog.” “a what?” he sucked in a breath, tensing underneath you, before launching into an explanation about all things upside down. at the end of his rant, you were quiet. “that’s why i didn’t want you here,” he said as if he weren’t sure you’d be listening. but you were; he held your attention fully. “i didn’t want you to have to see this.” you turned to face him, interlocking your fingers. “well, i’m sure as hell not leaving you now, harrington.” “as if you could ever stay away from me, cherry baby.”

oh, how right he was.

since steve had revealed the upside down to you, the two of you had been through a lot. more than the average enemies would go through together. he’d been beaten up by billy hargrove (someone you never particularly liked), and you’d sobbed over his bruised face, blood crusting in the little fissures left by billy’s knuckles. he’d woken up, dizzy and in pain to feel the wetness of your tears on his face. “i’m okay, cherry. look at me, hey? i’m fine,” he said, reaching up to put his palm on your cheek. he kept a secure hold on you as you traversed the complex tunnels, crushing you into his chest when he thought you two were about to die in a herd of inter-dimensional monsters. you’d both pulled away quickly, cheeks warm and clearing your throats nervously. surely enemies do that, right?

so now, steve was only more of a pain in your ass. especially since he made your heart flutter, since he made you perk up at just one whiff of rosemary and laundry detergent.

when starcourt mall opened up over the summer, robin got a summer job. the hendersons didn’t really need you as much this summer, and you already had a pretty good babysitting gig going with the waldens who lived on the other side of you. so in your spare time, you’d go visit your best friend.

the only issue was that steve pain-in-your-ass harrington worked with her.

sure, the free ice cream may be worth it, but was it really worth it to see him? especially after that halloween night. at the end of the day, you loved robin more and could shove the stinging thrill of seeing steve to the bottom of your stomach.

the only issue was that he looked too damn good in his dumb fucking sailor uniform. and you kept thinking about kissing him again.

both robin and steve were working today; you were perched behind the counter on a stool that robin had designated for you. though you’d tried to forget about "it" and him, you just couldn’t. yeah, you asked him to forget, but it seemed like he remembered it just as vividly as you did. the two of you tried to stay on opposite sides of the store, which was difficult considering that it was extremely small. and the area behind the counter just had to be narrow. he’d brush by your legs, causing your spine to stiffen and a sharp inhale to make its way down to your lungs. he’d grace you with a faint, “sorry, cherry.” you’d tuck your legs in closer to your seat. you wouldn’t — and couldn’t — look each other in the eye. robin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious, chattering away to you both. you’d noticed that the two of them were getting closer. you weren’t the type of person to tell your friends who they could and couldn’t be friends with, but robin knew that steve used to be your enemy. not used to be, you reminded yourself, he is my enemy.

it was one of the slower days that june — the morning of what would inevitably become the friday rush. the store was quiet, save for the hum of the freezer. you were enjoying your sample of cherry-almond swirl as robin checked the freezer one last time. “shit,” she muttered, sliding one of the frosted doors open. you cocked your head at her, spoon still in your mouth. robin turned to steve. “i have to go refill the cookies and cream. we accidentally put two chocolate chips in. be right back!” she was out the door before either you or steve could offer your help in the larger freezer in the back (aka avoid one another). the hum of the fluorescent lights was louder, grainier, invading your headspace. the edges of the plastic spoon now stung the sides of your mouth and the almond flavor left a bitterness on your tongue. you took the spoon out and chucked it into the “used spoons” cup, all the way from your little stool. “nice shot,” steve said, causing you to whip your head around to look at him, surprise sparking in your eyes at the sound of his voice. “thanks,” you said dryly. it was quiet for a beat before you took the initiative to speak again. “i don’t think i’ve ever told you, but i’m sorry about you and nance,” you said. he gave you a tight smile. “right,” he said, “you two are close.” you mirrored his smile. “yeah. i know you tried your best,” you said awkwardly. “thanks. i just don’t know if i’m meant to have her,” he said with melancholy weaving through his words. steve looked like he wanted to say something else. just as he opened his mouth, you both turned toward the door as you heard robin mumbling about how heavy the ice cream was. steve quickly turned toward you, “meet me behind the mall. after my shift. please?” you nodded slightly, suspicion clouding your eyes. he reached out to squeeze your hand, moving toward the register and giving the standard scoops ahoy greeting as the afternoon rush began.

steve had left scoops maybe fifteen minutes ago. you nibbled at your lip, another spoonful of cherry-almond swirl left a sweetness on your tongue. the coldness sitting in your mouth faded away as you checked the clock again. robin looked at you as you raised your eyes toward the clock again.

“go.”

“what?” you said, only half paying attention, lost in your thoughts about a certain boy’s freckles.

robin dragged out your name with a playful impatience.

“go.” you furrowed your brow as she plunged the scoops ahoy’s grey shag of a mop into soapy water. “dude, it’s okay. i’m getting a ride from my mom. i don’t know who this is about, but if you look at the clock one more time i’ll never give you my blessing to be with them,” she said as she slapped the mop on the tiled floor.

you looked at robin, still chewing your lip, plastic spoon in hand. “you sure, robbie?” she flashed you a toothy smile. “promise, cherry,” she said with a wink. “don’t you dare call me that, buckley,” you said as you tossed your spoon and pulled on your cardigan. she cackled as you swung open the door, turning left toward the parking lot. you made a sharp right through the food court to get to the back of the mall. through the smudgy, glassy exterior, you could see steve’s face illuminated by the lights in his BMW. you took a calming, deep breath as you pushed through the doors. steve’s windows were open; you could hear music coming out (you could swear that it was the talking heads). you smiled unconsciously at his choice. maybe somewhere along the line, in between dusty, rotting alternate dimensions and “placid” morning car rides, he’d listened when you blabbered on about your favorite band.

he heard you approaching and suddenly straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “hey, cherry,” he said breathily. “hi,” you said plainly, still suspicious about this whole meetup. “i just want to say that i’m sorry,” he said. you looked at him unimpressed; after all, he did have quite a few things to apologize for.

“for that night, at the halloween party.” you caught his eyes when your head snapped to your left, a wide, pained look mirrored in your own irises. your silence scared him — he’d expected more yelling. he deserved it. he huffed out a tiny sigh, before speaking again: “i missed you. i missed having you around because cherry, i don’t hate you. i really don’t. our little arguments or whatever? those were the best part of my day. and then they stopped because i fucked up.”

you smiled at that, and he mirrored it: the prettiest smile you’d ever seen. he laughed a little, “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you and how i missed the smell of your cinnamon gum in my car.” your eyes were softer now, glistening with something between a kind forgiveness and an inkling of playfulness. “and then we got thrown into the upside down and didn’t really get to talk about it since, y’know, we could’ve died at any moment? and then i found myself still missing you, because all that wildness wasn’t enough.”

you let the sentence hang in the air before telling him, “i missed you too, harrington.”

you’d barely noticed that you and steve were drifting closer and closer together. you felt little puffs from his plump lips brush over your own pout. “cherry-” he started. “steve,” you pleaded, hands spreading across his chest. he pulled back a little, grabbing your hand gently when he saw hurt flash over your features. “i just want you to know that i’m not looking for anything serious.”

oh. of course.

he sucked in a breath through his teeth as your face hardened into steely ire. “i really loved nancy. i can’t get over her that quickly.” you pulled your hand from his. “but cherry, i can’t stop thinking about you. and that night, god. i just keep thinking about what i would’ve done to you if we hadn’t stopped.”

something heavy settled in the pit of your stomach, the feeling making its way into your core.

“show me,” you said.

he smiled that harrington smile before slotting his lips against yours again — deeper, frenzied, hungry, like he wanted to pull the taste of cherry-almond swirl from your mouth.

(“show me,” you had said. what you really meant was, “i’ll take any part of you that i can get.”)

you felt him harden in his jeans, his cock pressing up against the rigid seams. he hissed as you trailed your hand down his chest, toward his bulge. you looked up at him, eyes glittering and so sinfully innocent. you pressed a kiss over where his arousal was evident and his eyes rolled back in his head. “cherry, baby, honey. i could cum in my pants if you touch me like that one more time.” you smiled at that, delicate hands palming him gently, kissing his neck a pretty sea of pinks and reds, and reaching toward his zipper. “jesus, fuck. cherry,” he rasped as he pulled your head off of him by the back of your pretty locks. your neck was craned back as you looked into his dark hazel eyes. “are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked with a taunting lilt to his throaty voice. you nodded. he smirked. “words, cherry.” “yes, i’ll be your good girl, steve,” you said, hands already wandering, mouth watering at the thought of his scent, his cock, anything — all over you. he tutted at your ministrations, pulling you off of him once again. “good girls listen to directions,” he said, lips twitching into a smirk.

“bad girls don’t get to cum.”

his hand that was holding your head had changed position, reaching to grasp your chin between his fingers, squishing your cheeks a little.

“do you think you’ve been a good girl, cherry?”

you mumbled out a soft “no” around the restriction of his fingers.

he kissed you after you answered, a soft, plush press of his lips against yours. you tilted your head forward to get more from his mouth, more from him. but he pulled away and you whined. “you’ve been bad, cherry. so now i’m gonna fuck that pretty mouth,” he growled as your thighs clenched. it didn’t go unnoticed, and steve was not-so-secretly proud of himself that he got you flustered. “and if you touch yourself, you will be punished. got it?” he said, cementing his rules in you. at the talk of punishment, steve sobered up for a second.

“what’s our safeword gonna be, princess?”

“starcourt?” you suggested. he smiled.

“perfect. now, if you let me fuck your mouth and use you as my little cocksleeve, maybe you can cum,” he said so sweetly, as if he needed to wrap you around his finger more. you suckled at his neck as you unzipped his jeans, tugging impatiently to get them off. your mouth watered at the thought of his cock; it was probably pretty and red and leaking — all for you. his boxers were next. his cock sprang out of the confines of his boxers, slapping the leaking tip onto his stomach. he exhaled as the cooler air of the car hit his shaft. he held out his palm to you as you admired his length. “spit,” he commanded. you tucked your hair behind your ears and did as he instructed. he took his hand and used your spit to slick up his member. you only just realized just how big it was, biting your lip nervously. he noticed, of course. “what’s wrong, angel?” he said, reaching toward you to rub your lower back gently. “is it gonna fit in my mouth?” you pouted. you wanted it to. like, really wanted it to. he glowed at your innocent question. “it will eventually, baby. maybe not today, but someday soon.” his words seemed to comfort you and you happily took over stroking his shaft with your spit. he threw his head back against the headrest. “fuck, cherry. s’much better than i imagined. so much better.” now it was your turn to glow, thinking about steve fucking his fist in the shower, in his bed, to the thought of you, his childhood enemy. your body felt warm all over and so you took a leap, sponging an experimental peck onto his reddened tip. his hips jolted forward at your touch, causing your eyes to widen and you to pull back. “shit. sorry, honey. just can’t get enough of you,” he said with a gentle stroke to your head. “s’okay, stevie,” you replied sweetly, “wanna make you feel good.” you then bravely dove forward and slotted your mouth over his cock, swirling your tongue around the head and gagging as you took as much of him as you could. his eyes rolled back into his head and he threaded his fingers through your hair. “holy shit, cherry,” he said, “so good. so wet, so warm f’me.” once you figured out how to breathe through your nose, you slowly started bobbing your head up and down. you hollowed out your cheeks, stroking what couldn’t fit in your mouth (yet). on one of your little moves, your teeth grazed the underside of his cock, where a vein bulged. he hissed and you felt more precum spurt from his tip. you ran your tongue over it to soothe the sting your teeth left, worried that you’d made a mistake. but the unmistakable “fuck, just like that, cherry” from above you was enough to reassure you.

you pulled off for a breather, pressing wet, sloppy kisses up and down his length as you recovered. he was just about to ask if you were okay before you took initiative again, taking him further down your throat this time. he gasped and moaned and whimpered and you were in heaven. you were surrounded by him: his musk, his heavy balls gently held in your hands, the hard muscle of his thick, hairy thighs trapping your head. “can i hold your head, angel?” he asked you, ever so gently. you nodded while keeping yourself latched onto his cock, the heavy weight on your tongue oddly comforting. he gently grasped the back of your hair in one hand before thrusting his hips into your mouth, feeding his cock into your warm, wanton mouth. you gagged a little in surprise, but steve held your hair tighter and told you to just relax your throat. at his words, you did (well, you tried with a little whine), and he slipped in further. the spit that had gathered at the corners of your lips started to spill over as you attempted to take him all the way. you hadn’t expected yourself to be getting this wet over him getting off, but here you were, making a mess of your cotton panties as you sputtered choked, eyes glossy from tears. your throbbing pussy was visible through the sheerness of the fabric that your wetness had left. you pressed your thighs together to garner some relief for your poor pulsating cunt, but you remembered that if you were good, you’d get to cum too.

steve was thrusting into your mouth now, enraptured by the warmth of your wet tongue and swollen lips — the same mouth that he dreamed about kissing almost every night. he moaned above you at the sight of your spit-slicked lips, how your eyes were wide and dumb as he fucked your throat. "holy shit, cherry. my perfect little slut, such a good little whore f'me," he panted. you locked eyes with steve as his dick rapidly plunged in and out of your tight throat and at your heated gaze, he was cumming. hot, salty ropes hit the back of your throat. you made a little noise of satisfaction, humming around his shaft as your mouth filled with his seed. steve shot one last load into your mouth, groaning out your name — your real name — and collapsing, almost boneless in his seat. you pulled your mouth off of him, swallowing his load and giving the still-flushed head a soft kiss. he tasted salty and woody. you felt syrupy slick rush out of your fluttering hole at the taste left on your tongue. he ran a hand through his hair, cheeks red, still breathing heavily. “open your mouth,” he said, looking at you and tapping your cheek lightly. you did as he asked and stuck out your tongue for good measure. he gave a pleased hum when he saw your tongue dart out to lick a little bit of his seed that was left on the corner of your mouth. “good girl. you swallowed,” he said. you burned at his praise. "thank you, stevie," you said shyly. he bent down to sprinkle kisses across your face.

your cheeks glowed with arousal as his hand gently gripped the back of your neck, casually keeping you in the palm of his hand. he slanted his mouth over yours, swiping his tongue over your own and hummed when he tasted a remnant of himself in your waiting mouth. you smiled into the kiss, the vibrations tickling your pretty pout. he pulled back, his eyes and lips shining. suddenly he was pushing a hand through his hair and checking himself out in his rearview mirror. you looked at him, mouth pursed in confusion and discomfort at the pressure between your legs. “steve,” you whined. “what’s up, cherry baby?” he said as he gently buckled you in. “don’t i get to cum? i was so good,” you begged, grabbing his bicep between his smaller palms. the polyester of his scoops uniform shifted under your pawing hands as he extended his arm behind your headrest, tendons flexing as he reversed out of the parking lot.

“you were a good girl, but only after you had my cock in your mouth.”

so that was it? he wasn’t going to get you to your release? your mouth fell agape and you detached yourself from the boy, sliding back in your seat and watching hawkins speed by.

suddenly, you were pulling up to your house. your parents had left the foyer light on, keeping the entryway to your house bathed in its soft brilliance. it felt like déjà vu; you, flustered and exiting steve’s car after he’s been an asshole to you — yet again.

you resolved to never see him again as you cursed yourself for thinking he’d changed. but this time, he gently tugged you to him, saying your name quietly, and lifting your chin up to tilt your precious face toward his. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, one that filled the small space of his car with your deep inhale. you decided that this was your favorite kiss with him that you’d ever had. you looked at him with little hearts in your eyes as he smoothed your wildly messy hair back. he smiled at you, gently purring “don’t you dare touch yourself tonight.” you opened your mouth defiantly at his orders. he shushed you with a quick kiss to the corner of your lips that left you wanting more. “i’ll know if you do,” he said with a wink.

and you knew that you’d definitely be seeing him again.

you did cum that next day. three times to be exact; once on his fingers, once in his mouth, and once on his cock. he’d looked up at you from between your quivering thighs, asking you if he'd made it up to you. you nodded blearily, desperate to get his tongue on your hot core once again.

but whatever summer love, saying “us” moments you had, had very quickly become much deeper. you knew you were in deep shit when you realized you two were playing house after a sleepover at steve’s. you’d walked downstairs to see him swaying gently, nursing a cup of coffee in his boxers. you were wearing one of his old basketball t-shirts: sun-faded and soft and steve. he gave you a lazy smile as he dropped a kiss on your mouth, tasting of the vanilla creamer he swore he kept around “just for you, cherry. that shit’s disgusting.” you wrapped your arms around him; he sighed against your mouth as your fingertips began to rub his lower back with such care, such sweetness. “morning, stevie,” you said through a delicate yawn. ““mm mornin’ cherry,” he said, dipping down to leave a smattering of kisses across your neck and clavicle as you held each other in the sun-soaked kitchen. you silently wished to yourself that the two of you would stay like this, preserved in a memory forever. that you wouldn’t have to return to the world where you “hated” each other. that you could live together in a house of your own, with your own rich coffee scent filling the ground floor, without the upside down. your eyes snapped open at your wandering thoughts. no, you told yourself, it's steve. of course he ate you out on the kitchen floor before bending you over the counter. and of course, in the afterglow as you laid atop the cool tile, you just had to realize that you loved steve harrington.

“always so good f’me,” he rumbled, tracing his blunt nails on your back, raising goosebumps on his path. you looked into his cinnamon eyes, absorbing the ring of mossy green around his irises.

“anything for you, stevie,” you cooed, putting a veil of satin over your voice to mask the churning of your emotions.

“careful, cherry. i might start thinking that you’ve got a crush on me.”

oh, he had no idea.

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