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#late model engines
theheartchoice · 2 years
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Hello, Dean. My name is Castiel. 
Nice to meet you, Cas. 
#suptober22 day 3: digital 
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master-of-the-railway · 3 months
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Answering @septemberofgenders' ask in a new post bc I deleted the original ask on accident.
(under the cut bc I AM SO NORMAL ABT THIS AU)
The general idea is that Luz, King, Willow, and Hunter all somehow end up on Sodor. Gus, Amity, and Vee all stay in the boiling isles though. Another important note is that the "present day" events for the kids on Sodor takes place during the cgi series. Exactly when I'm not certain, but the current idea is maybe a year or two before the BWBA era would've started. I've also debated on pushing TMR to take place a little closer to the beginning of the cgi series for this au, maybe a few years prior to Hunter's arrival.
Luz and Willow both got there around the same time when they were just a few months old each. Luz ended up being adopted by Sir Topham Hatt as his daughter, and Willow became the adopted daughter of Jenny Packard. Neither of them remember anything from their birthplaces, and they actually have completely new names from their adoptive parents, I just haven't solidly decided on their new names yet. So for now I'll call them by their birth names until their new names get decided. Luz loves Sodor and couldn't imagine living anywhere else. She's fully aware that she is adopted but has no urge to seek out her birth family. Why would she need to? She's got everything she could want right here! She's grown up seeing the engines pretty much every morning, the engines' drivers and firemen think she's a good kid, and Luz considers the steam engines to be her family. She especially likes hanging out with Gordon and Thomas, they're likely her favorites out of the entire group. Willow sometimes wonders if her birth parents miss her but tries not to think about it too much. The construction crew considers her their baby sister and they love her to bits, she does have a crush on Hunter, though the two don't see each other that often due to the odd living situation he has. Luz and Willow are the BEST of friends and they go to the same school, Luz would stand up against kids who tried to bully Willow, and Willow would help Luz understand school assignments she struggled to grasp. They're always there for each other and they especially love hanging out during the summer.
Hunter ended up there at 6 years old, he hadn't become old enough for Belos to start doing major damage to him, so he was incredibly desperate to return back to the boiling isles and his "uncle". Mr. Conductor stumbled across the poor kid and when Hunter explained his situation, the kind man offered to look after him and help him find a way back to his home realm…that is until MC noticed that Hunter displayed obvious signs of having grown up in a less than fantastic household. So, MC gave up the search and convinced Hunter to come back to Shining Time with him. MC made sure he got the poor kid a licensed therapist and lots of love so that he might start to heal. Hunter now lives in his own special room at the Shining Time train station as MC’s younger brother. He remembered that he'd been training to be the Golden Guard, so he gave himself the label of the Golden Conductor as he was now training to be a magical conductor like his older brother. He has his own uniform and supply of gold dust, and he's one of the few who knows about Lady's existence. He's definitely a lot better off than canon Hunter was at his age. Hunter remembered his name just fine, so he's pretty much the only one of the crew who keeps his birth name (again, King, Willow, and Luz's new names are undecided).
King was transported there when he was just a year old. In this au, Eda had found him not long after he'd hatched, and she took him home to raise him as he'd reached out to her just as any baby witch would. Her poor heart just couldn't say no to the little guy. He was her whole world and she'd constantly brag to her friends about her adorable little "demon" son, whom she'd named King, and he made her life so much better. Which is why Eda became a shambled mess when King disappeared and she couldn't find him. She became a rough and closed off witch, doubling down on her criminal acts and hesitating less to attack coven members as she was confident they had taken King from her. Eventually she met with Raine again and the two became allied, slowly re-kindling their relationship…and then Darius crashed in and became the third member of the alliance! Raine and Darius are pretty much two of the only people that Eda trusts nowadays. She's a pretty closed off person and both of her partners (yes they are a polycule in this au, I am not immune okay-) worry about her a lot, but they do their best to help her out with the grief that she just can't seem to let go of. Eda's commonly referred to as "The Owl Witch", as the emperor didn't think "owl lady" was serious enough. She's not just a lady, she's a dangerous wild witch with a curse that turns her into a monster that only two people can control…but Belos has never seen the faces of her two assistants. They're always wearing masks to hide…
King, however, has a very happy and comfortable life on the island of Sodor. While he was a very strange and shocking surprise that Luz brought home one night, King became a welcomed addition to the Hatt family and was treated just as Luz had been: one of their own. He's much more comfortable wearing clothes as Eda had put him in onesies when she had him and the Hatt family kept it up, he's one distinguished little guy! He's pretty close with Topham's grandkids, seeing as they're closer in age than King is to his older sisters and brother, especially considering that Charles and Barbara are both adults and don't live with their parents anymore. He and Luz do know them though! They get along pretty well. *Important Note: King's horn wasn't broken in this au, he very much still has both horns with no damage to either of them.
Amity ended up being the one to find and comfort Gus back in the isles. He clung to her from then on out, and Amity became his protector against bullies. They train together and Gus is a lot less insecure about his illusion magic having Amity at his side, he's the only one that she's soft around, and she's constantly encouraging him to get better and showing him books to improve with. They're pretty inseparable, and the only reason Amity's parents don't disapprove is because Odalia had witnessed Gus' power firsthand once. The kid's got a lot of potential, it just needs to be trained.
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gardenfractals · 9 months
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Diagram of the diagram classes of a diagramming system: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unified_Modeling_Language
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practicalsolutions · 1 year
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Is it reasonable to happy cry over this?
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new 2d sonic games coming out this fall apperently ?
#not sure how to feel abt it just watched the trailer. im a modern 'classic sonic' hater sorry.#it just doesnt quite capture what i enjoy abt the og games as well as stuff like advance and rush does (well those more take that and build#it up into its own thing (rush especially) but whatever. it still carries on some general things i enjoy about classic sonic design and#all the more recent stuff ive played has not really been my thing. idk what physics engine theyre using but if its the retro engine i will#probably not like it that shit messes with my muscle memory so bad im sorry. i dont like it i wish i did#also the general visual design/art direction just isnt my thing! im not into that kinda stuff ive always disliked it to an extent#ESPECIALLY in 2d it feels very visually overwhelming but that is probably just a me thing.#also idk if the sound design in the trailer reflects what the game is going to sound like but.did not like it . again a personal preference#so i guess im leaning kinda negative overall MAN i hate that . why am i like this lol sorry#i love sonic games i really do but i just Do Not care for the Big Stuff theyve been doing lately it isntreally my thing#the older stuff just plays to my tastes better u_u#also another thing classic sonic gameplay w 3d models has always felt so ? stilted?#rush doesnt count its its own beast. stilted is probbaly The last thing id use to describe its presentation LMAO#but like. all the sonic generations onwards stuff just feels Weird to look at theres no realkick to it. hell i feel like this abt a few#other 2.5d games that are. 2.5d in the visual sense.it just doesnt click right in a lot of cases#so what im syaing is . 3d bad 2d good /JOKE#the multiplayer seems interesting wonder how thats gonna be handled. also im guessing amy plays how she does in origins here#not sure how she plays there but i m glad to actually see her playable in more stuff! i hope her playstyle is similar to her advance 1#gameplay i love that shit so much geneuinely. its a lot of fun to mess around w#i wanna say im sure the game will be fine but also..... its sonic......... theyre always gonna figure out some way to fuck shit up#<- i say that somewhat lovingly but also it is pretty frustrating since most of it does stem from management issues and time crunch. sigh#okay im just rambling abt sonic nonsense now sorry. i try not to get too invested in everything anymore it was really draining when i was#actively trying to keep up w everything but sometimes smthn comes upand my brain goes back into Sonic Mode /silly#inquisitivewaltz.txt#oh god these tags are so long. im so sorry hgfdhsjgfdhs
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foone · 3 months
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Your posts are in an AI model
and then Tumblr decided to sell them to AI models.
Now, don't get me wrong, tumblr selling out the users to AI companies is bad, yes, they shouldn't do that. It sucks.
but don't lets get this confused: your posts were already in there. Tumblr selling them is about tumblr making some money and about the AI models having more exhaustive post collections. It's not about your posts being in an AI model, vs not being in one. That battle has already been lost.
Can you find your post on google? Then it's almost certainly in an AI model already. Think about it: These AI sites showed up before all the sites were making deals to sell their users' content, right? How do you think they built them in the first place?
They scraped the posts. Just like google and bing and such do when they build their search indexes.
It's a fundamental part of how the open web works: you want your posts on tumblr to be visible to users, right? You want them to be readable?* Like, look how much stuff broke when twitter changed their whole read-while-not-logged-in policy, ruining a bunch of thread links/NSFW links. And if it's visible, it's scrapable. That's what the AI models were built on.
I've done website scraping before (not for AI models, of course. I was doing search engines and website archival), this is just how it works. You hire a few relatively smart CS graduates and tell them "build me a scraper that'll give us a bunch of tumblr posts" and they go off for a month or two and come back with a database of a few billion posts, and you stuff that into your AI model. That's how they got all the deviantart and flickr and twitter and pinterest and so on posts. They didn't pay for them: they just took them.
They only ever pay for this shit because either:
they fucked up in such a way that the site might be able to sue them for taking rather than paying
They can buy them cheaper than they can finish taking them. Maybe they'd need to pay the CS grads for an extra month? well, that might be more expensive than just throwing the site a couple hundred thousand bucks.
ANYWAY: my point is, don't treat this "oh no tumblr is selling our posts to AI" like it's a big thing that might happen and it would be bad to happen. Yes, it's bad, tumblr shouldn't do this, this'll let AI models get continual updates of content for far easier than just scraping them would be, tumblr betrayed user trust, and so on...
but realistically, this is not a black and white matter of "if only tumblr didn't do this, then we'd be safe from AI models!"
Nope. We already lost that battle. I'm sorry, and it does suck, but that's just how it is. The avalanche has already started, it's too late for the pebbles to vote. * I'm assuming here that you don't run a private blog that's set to only followers or something. You'd be safer then, of course, but you're not really my target audience for this rant
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rboooks · 1 year
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DPxDC fic idea: The Infinite Realms Hobby Store
Danny Fenton drops out of school on his sister's recommendation to aim for a GED. Then two weeks after he does receive his high school equivalence document, Danny and his sister Jasmine pack up and move to Gotham, where they promptly open their own business. A small hobby store that's during rather well for itself, especially with offered classes to learn said hobbies.
The instructors of the classes are all a rather colorful bunch that don't seem from Gotham but aren't bad like outsiders usually are.
The siblings continue their education through online courses and attend Gotham University. Jasmine studying psychology and Danny studying engineering.
They don't seem like up-and-coming villains who may be behind the strange changes in the city. Nothing terrible has happened so far but that's just it. Nothing has happened, and if that doesn't make every citizen's skin crawl, nothing else will.
It's like the core of Gotham is breaking away, and no one knows what it is or if it's a good thing.
Tim Drake, disguised as Alvin Draper, signed up for the offered Photography class to prove they were and stop them before it's too late.
Danny and Jazz are aware there is something strange about Alvin Draper.
Still, they have thier hands tied, prepping Danny to take the Ghost Throne, keeping up with college, trying to fix a crumbled relationship with their parents after the Big Reveal, and keeping all of Danny's ex-Rouges satisfying their obsessions by having them express it through a hobby.
Ember teaches guitar on Mondays.
Technus does coding an hour before her.
Lunch lady has a cooking lesson on Tuesday.
Poindexter does miniature models on Wednesdays.
Kitty got Photography and modeling on Thursdays.
Johnny, who is never too far away from her, runs his crocheting class at the same time.
And Ghost Writer does creative writing on Fridays.
Saturdays is a surprise course by whichever ghost is free that week, and Sundays they are closed.
They just can't find the time or energy to figure out that guy's deal. Best to leave Alvin alone.
They hope to stay out of Batman's radar long enough to break all the curses Gotham is dosed in. It's one of Danny's first real jobs as Ghost King, so he's trying his best, but come on, this place is a mess.
Not to mention the people generally seemed unhappy to have the curses gone. Apparently it doesn't feel right or something.
(Johnny insists Alvin is just a bisexual disaster who has a crush on both of them but Johnny is also a bisexual disaster so the Fenton siblings don't listen to him.)
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redroomreflections · 1 month
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Silver Lining
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Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: After Natasha dies, Wanda helps reader with raising her baby. They didn't know they would fall in love
W/c: 4.2k
Ellie needs diapers.
It’s a simple text. A message you’re used to these days. It’s straightforward and to the point. Ellie needs diapers. Though there’s no other meaning behind the simple sentence it's a bit unsettling. You stare at the message watching as the text bubble for typing appears. You wait with a finger over your cursor for the sender to say something else. Just as quick as it appeared it leaves your screen.
Are you okay?
You want to send it back. You quickly delete the message and tuck the phone into your pocket. Guess you’ll be going to get diapers. You start the engine of your car, glancing to the bar in front of you, before pulling out of the parking lot. Wanda’s been weird lately. Distant.Cold. a little testy. You have a bit of an inkling of what it could be but your mind won’t let you go there. You’ve just come from a pretty awesome late-night dinner with your coworker, Danny. It’s the second time she’s asked you out and you accepted. It’s about time you hang out with someone other than Ellie these days. Not that Wanda isn’t a good company but You’d be an idiot to say no. Danny is kind, sweet, smart, and so damn sexy. She’s tall, runway model tall, with legs that never seemed to end. Most of all she listened. She’s the only one in the office that understands a bit of what you’ve been through so you go to her for things. It was only a matter of time for your relationship to progress. Right?
You can’t help the deep-seated guilt at leaving Wanda in the dark. She takes care of Ellie as if she’s her own. She helps whenever you need it and despite her own grief and pain, she’s always there for you. This is why you are unsure of her recent behavior. It must be something you did. Maybe she’s not comfortable with you leaving her with Ellie to go on dates? If so you’d be happy to find a babysitter to relieve her. Was she upset that you forgot to put the laundry in the dryer? Did you forget her birthday? No, that can’t be it. Wanda was so gracious and plentiful with her forgiveness. Which is why you are so confused.
The only thing open right now is the 24 hour CVS. Simple enough. You step into the store with a purpose. You find the baby aisle with ease. You’ve been here plenty of times before. The Honest Company brand is the first you spot. You’re not too keen on being loyal to a specific brand but Wanda always insists that it’s really good. You grab a pack of diapers in Ellie’s size and tuck it under your arms. You pull out your phone again to check if Wanda has messaged about anything else. You’re the only one in the store beside the cashier so you’re not in much of a rush. You step around to the second aisle where there are trashy magazines and other assortments of books on display. You grab a crossword puzzle book for you and Wanda to finish together. Maybe then she’ll tell you what’s been on her mind. You make your way to the front where you spot her favorite candy. You’re not intentionally trying to make her feel better, you technically haven’t done anything wrong, and yet you can’t help but feel that you need to make things right with her. You grab the turtle's candy from the shelf and hand it to the cashier. She bags with boredom ready to clock out of work herself. You give her thanks before taking the items and leaving the store.
It doesn’t take long for you to get home. You sit in the driveway with the lights off for a minute. You’re looking up at the house. It’s beautiful. Two-story, brick, a white picket fence. It’s everything you’ve wanted in a home. Everything Natasha wanted. It’s been a little over a year since she’s died. A little longer than that since you’ve seen her face. Ellie never got to meet her. You were eight months pregnant when Natasha and the rest of the team decided to do the mission to reverse what Thanos messed up. Your wife, a natural leader and a true hero sacrificed her own life for the greater good. Natasha was always good. Which is why you resent her so much. In her haste to save the rest of the world she left you with a baby who would never know her name, never know her smile, and never feel her arms around them.
A life you planned together was over before you could start it. You’re here with the house that you chose together and sometimes you can’t make yourself go in. It hurts to see Ellie smile and laugh knowing Natasha would never get to see that. It’s a silhouette in the front window that breaks you from your thoughts. Wanda seems to be cleaning. She hasn’t closed the curtains which you have to remind her to do often. She moved in after you had given birth to Ellie. She was no longer Avenging. She wanted something else for herself. Wanda is your rock and you’re incredibly thankful for everything she does for you and Ellie. Suddenly, as if she senses you’re home, she turns to the window to peer out. She finds you easily and gives you a small wave. You wave back.
You unbuckle your seat belt and grab your items from CVS along with your briefcase. You take slow steps up the walkway. Wanda’s planted new flowers in the garden. They’re beautiful. She opens the front door for you and takes your briefcase just as she does every day.
You plant a kiss on her cheek in hello before stepping over to allow her to close the door. Briefly you think about how domestic the greeting is. She’s your best friend. It’s always been like this.
“Hey,” Wanda greets. She rubs her arms to warm herself. It’s the middle of August. It’s not too warm but Wanda always seems to be freezing. “How was work?”
“Work was work,” You shrug. Wanda lowers her hands to take the diapers. She places them on the front steps. “I need a long vacation. What do you say about taking Ellie to Montana or something?”
“Montana?” Wanda questions. She raises a brow.
“I know there’s nothing there but that’s the point.” You say. You follow her into the kitchen. Wanda rolls up her sleeves to get started on cleaning Ellie’s dishes. She’s sleeping by now with it being way past her bedtime. The eleven-month-old is full of energy. You find yourself missing her whenever you’re away. “How was she today?”
“She was great. She has another tooth coming in so she was a bit fussy before bedtime but a bath and a song fixed all of that.” Wanda scrubs a bottle with care and precision.
“How were you today?”
She pauses to look up at you. “I’m fine.” She drops her head back to the dishes.
“Her first birthday is soon,” Wanda begins another conversation.
“Yes, I can’t believe it,” You smile. “I think we should have a small party. Nothing too flashy. Danny thinks we should do a princess theme. I’ll probably ask her to plan it since she’s good with those things.” There it is. Wanda’s frown appears and she doesn’t try to hide it this time. “Is that not a good idea?” You lean against the counter to wait for her answer.
“No, no, it’s a great idea.” Wanda shakes her head. “I was just thinking that we would plan that together. Danny doesn’t know Ellie. I mean she’s never met her and you’re not dating.” Oh. There it is. She’s upset about you spending time with Danny.
“We can plan it together.” You placate her. “I didn’t think you would want to considering you’re already so generous with your time.”
“Are you kidding? I’d love to.” Wanda sets the last cup aside. “Ellie has been the highlight of my life for a while now. I can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t want to help with such a milestone.”
“Okay then, we can plan it next week.” Wanda nods.
“I brought these.” You hold up the bag with the crossword puzzle and candy. Wanda eyes it before rolling her eyes.
“I’m going to have cavities because of you.” There’s no real malice in her tone. You grin before shaking the bag.
“Go change and I’ll make us tea.” Wanda takes the bag before waving you off. You plant another kiss on her cheek before running up the stairs to your bedroom. You make a pit stop at Ellie’s bedroom. Her door is cracked and the light from her night light castes the room in a light blue glow. You push it open gently. You tiptoe over to the bed where you take a second to look at her. She’s on her stomach with her hand resting near her face. Her favorite plushie, Boris the monkey, is inches away. You’re sure she fell asleep with it in her arms.
Sometimes you wonder how life with Natasha would be. How different would it be raising Ellie together? If you let yourself think too long you’ll become depressed. Natasha was the love of your life and you’d probably never be over her death. Does one ever get over that? Looking at Ellie, you’re constantly reminded of how much is being missed. You reach down to brush a hand over her head. You lean to press a kiss to her head. She twitches in her sleep before settling again.
You leave the room, closing the door behind you, before making your way to your bedroom. Deciding that a quick shower would feel amazing you step into the bathroom with that purpose. You don’t even bat an eye at Wanda’s towel resting beside yours. You take your time in the shower, allowing all of your stressors to melt away, before stepping out feeling refreshed. Wanda would be ready with the tea by now. You quickly dress and make your way downstairs to meet her in the living room. She’s already tucked under a throw blanket and she’s added a cardigan to her outfit.
“It’s amazing how you’re always so cold,” You say before joining her under the blanket. She adjusts it so that it’s covering both of your legs.
“If you kept the house at a reasonable temperature maybe I wouldn’t be.” She quips. She takes a sip of her tea before setting it on the coffee table. She grabs a pen and the crossword puzzle. She doesn’t hesitate to lean further into you so that you both can see the page. Despite her being cold, her warmth is comforting. She smells amazing. Clean. It sounds weird but it’s Wanda.
“Okay this one is literary lingo,” Wanda begins. She tucks the pen against her bottom lip as she reads across the page. “Two across says an exaggerated statement not to be taken literally.” She glances to you for help before turning back to the page.
“Hyperbole.” You answer. Piece of cake. She scribbles the answer onto the page before going to the next question. This is how much of the night goes until you finish the entire page. Wanda sets the book down in triumph. She picks up the turtle’s package and rips open the paper. She hands you one before biting into one herself. The candy is sticky and tough but delicious.
“Have you been back to the compound recently?” She asks you.
“Not really, I can’t bring myself to.” You shake your head. Going back there would only remind you of Natasha and Vision. She nods her head. She feels that way too. She chews before swallowing thickly.
“I think I want to start volunteering somewhere,” She says and you sit up a bit straighter in interest. Wanda adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing you. “I know I spend a lot of time with Ellie and I love her but I need some adult human interaction.”
“Wanda, if it’s too much please tell me, I can bring her to work with me some days and-”
“No,” She cuts you off. “It’s not that. I just want to do something good. I want to help other orphans maybe. Growing up in Sokovia without parents and then joined Hydra. I know it probably won’t be as dramatic here in America but I want to help them onto the right path. Whether with homework or reading.” Wanda’s hands move excitedly as she speaks. She’s passionate about this and you can’t help but smile seeing her so happy. She notices your look and smiles back. “What?”
“You’re a good person, Wanda Maximoff.” You reply. Her smile widens. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear.
“Thank you, y/n. I think you’re pretty good too.” She grins cheekily. “So you think I should do it?”
“I think you should. I can get Steve or Peter and MJ to watch Ellie and I’ll come with you some days.” You suggest. NYC is only a train away so you figure it won’t be too bad.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You nod. Suddenly your arms are full of Wanda as she hugs you in gratitude. You think you're a bit touch-deprived as the feeling of Wanda in your arms is heaven-like.
“You’re the best.” Wanda smiles as she pulls back. “Are you too tired for a show?” She tilts her head towards the tv.
“No, put it on.” You watch as she grabs the remote, settling into your side again, as she finds her favorite episode of BEWITCHED.
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The next few days are weekend days so you and Wanda attend a play date with another mom from the neighborhood. Her son, Tyler, is a month older than Ellie and they’re still a bit young for any real play but it’s more of a social thing. Tyler’s mom, Terry, is serving you and Wanda finger food as she talks about a new committee that’s happening in the neighborhood. They want to plan events for the coming year.
“I know things are hectic but it may be fun,” Terry shrugs as she sits across from you. “Mike probably won’t enjoy it but I’d figure us wives will.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Gives us something to do being stay-at-home moms.” This time she looks to Wanda. You don’t bother to correct her. This wouldn’t be the first time someone mistook you two for a couple since moving here.
Wanda nods, she might be considering the idea. You don’t think it sounds bad either. You’re just about to ask Terry about the type of events when Ellie crawls over to you with a toy block in one of her hands. She uses your knees to stand on her own feet. Her eyes are wide and trusting as she shows off the toy.
“It’s so nice,” You feign interest. You wonder if this is like a parent requirement. To give praise or encouragement to something your child wants to show you.
“Mama!” Ellie pushes the toy into Wanda’s lap. There’s a gasp but you can’t quite tell who it’s from. Wanda looks to you for the next step. “Mama!” Ellie is insistent as she pushes the toy further into Wanda’s lap.
“Go ahead, Mama.” You find your voice. You emphasize the title with a gesture to Ellie. Wanda swallows thickly before nodding. She looks down at Ellie before pulling her into her lap. The slipup was forgotten as she inspects the toy and puts on a voice for the toddler.
“Is this her first time saying it?” Terry asks with a smile noting your reactions.
“It’s the first time she’s directed it towards either of us.” You inform her. It’s true. Ellie has said Mama before in passing but she was never so indicative about whom she was talking to. Seeing her direct it to Wanda was startling but heartwarming. It brings tears to your eyes. Seeing the other woman respond and play with Ellie with such care. Wanda looks over to you with a smile before turning her attention back to Ellie.
Whoa. What was that you’re feeling? Butterflies. You haven't felt those in a while. Suddenly you feel as if you’re suffocating. The room feels smaller and you need space. You stand, excusing yourself from the room, to find a bathroom. You go to the one Terry directs you to. Wanda watches as you leave with a frown. Did something happen? You push the door closed leaning your head against it as you take harsh, breaths.
Wanda. Wanda Maximoff. Your best friend. You’re in love with her. It’s a thought that makes you want to puke. You don’t know how it has happened or when it’s happened but suddenly all of your feelings make sense. How happy you are to see her. Even on your date with Danny, all you could think about was Wanda. Coming home to Wanda. Spending time with Wanda. Kissing Wanda. Making love to her.
You gasp. This can’t be. You shake your head hoping it will rid you of the thoughts. Wanda lost the love of her life. You lost yours. It could be nothing more than what it was. She probably didn’t even feel the same way.
Life is crazy.
The car ride home is ridden in silence. Ellie has fallen asleep after the playdate. You glance at Wanda every few minutes. You don’t realize she’s looking at you too. You park in the driveway, helping her with Ellie’s bag when your hand brushes against hers. You pull away hiding the effect it has on you as you walk into the house. You put Ellie to bed on your own while Wanda does god knows what downstairs. You take your time dressing in a t-shirt and shorts before sitting on the bottom step to tie your shoes.
Wanda steps into the foyer to ask where you’re going. You both only just got home. She didn’t know you had plans to do anything.
“For a run,” This surprises her even further. You don’t like running. You despise it and yet here you are gearing up to run.
“You hate running,” Wanda points out. “In fact, the last time Steve suggested you run you told him you would rather have crows poke your eyes out and eat them for breakfast.”
Damn. You did say that.
“I’m trying something different,” You shrug. You stand to stretch before heading for the front door.
Wanda follows after you. Before you turn the knob she calls out to you.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” You pause and turn back to her.
“Overstep? Why would you think that?” You question her.
“Well, Ellie called me Mama and I know that’s what she would have called Nat. I’m not her mother.” Wanda folds her arms under her chest. A nervous move. “I thought you might be uncomfortable with that.”
“No, Wanda, that’s not it at all,” You assure her. “I’m so happy that Ellie views you as her Mama. There’s no one I would rather have that title. You are her Mama.” Wanda nods with tears in her eyes. Maybe she’s wanted that without really knowing. You find yourself wanting to kiss her tears away. Again. Whoa.
“Okay,” She gives you a small smile. “Have fun on your run.” She tells you and you nod. She watches you exit the front door. You do a few final stretches before you plug your headphones into your ear. Guess it was time to run.
It’s been two hours the next time you walk through the front door. The lights off save for the foyer. You kick off your shoes, rubbing your forehead with your sweaty shirt before you make your way upstairs. Wanda must be asleep. You check on Ellie as you do every night. She’s sound asleep. You hop into the shower and allow yourself to stand under the scalding hot water. You’re going to regret running so much in the morning. Your thoughts are riddled with Wanda as you shower, when you dry off, and when you dress. You can’t stop thinking of her. You don’t know what prompts you to do it but you suddenly find yourself in front of her bedroom door. Her lights are off but you knock anyway. No answer.
You twist the knob to find the door unlocked. You open the door and call her. She’s on her side facing away from the door. Her posture is a bit stiff.
“Wanda?” You question.
“Yeah?” She whispers into the darkness. She turns over just as you climb into the bed. You’re under the covers now and briefly you think about how comfortable her bed is. You can see her through the light emanating from her window. Her cheeks are stained with dry tear tracks. She’s been crying. “Y/n?” She tries to hide the shake in her voice as you look at her. It’s now or never.
Your eyes fly down to her lips then back to her eyes. You lift a hand to caress her cheek as you lean to plant a chaste kiss against her lips. She gasps, quickly recovering, before kissing you back. You pull back keeping your eyes closed. If you open them to her being angry with you, you don’t know if you’ll forgive yourself.
“Y/n,” Wanda asks.
“Wanda,” You whimper.
“Open your eyes, Malysh.” She raises her hand to rub her thumb against your hand still caressing your face. She takes hold of it before lowering it to lie on the covers between you. She never let's go. You open your eyes slowly to find nothing that you were afraid of.
“I wasn’t mad that Ellie called you Mama,” You repeat your sentiment from earlier. “I was confused. Her calling you Mama made me realize a few things.” Wanda listens. “You’ve been here through it all and yet I’ve never seen you for you until now. My selfless, sweet, Wanda.” You don’t know what you’re saying at this point. All you know is you want Wanda to know how much she means to you.
“I feel the same,” She doesn’t need to you say the words. She knows.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize all of this time what was right in front of me,” You frown. “I can’t believe how long I wanted to kiss you and I didn’t see it as anything other than platonic.”
“I realized a couple of weeks ago.” You lift your head to rest on your elbows. “When you went out with Danny for the first time. I couldn’t figure out why I was so angry about it. Then I knew why. I wanted it to be me.”
“Wanda, why didn’t you say something?” You ask. “If I knew I wouldn’t have gone out with her.”
“I didn’t want to stand in the way of you finding love again,” Wanda shrugs.
“I don’t love Danny,”
“But you could,” Wanda points out.
“No, I couldn’t.” You say firmly. “Not when I love you.” It’s the first time you’re verbalizing this. “Don’t be a martyr when it comes to your heart, Wanda. Even with me.” You squeeze her hand. “It took me some time but I want you.”
“How do you know that after only a couple of hours?” She asks.
“It hasn’t been a couple of hours,” You shoot back. “It’s been months. The late nights with Ellie. The dinners we have. Our crossword nights. I enjoy them. I look forward to them. We’ve been spending a life together without us even realizing it. I want more with you. If you want it too.”
Wanda surges forward pushing you onto your back as she kisses you with a passion that has you moaning against her lips. The weight of her on top of you is pure bliss. All you can think, feel, and smell is Wanda. Reluctantly she pulls back to take in a deep breath.
“I want it too.” She doesn’t wait for you to answer as she kisses you again.
Five years later
“Mama, Mama, we got ice cream.” Ellie races across the park with your golden retriever, Max, in tow. She’s hanging onto the leash very loosely as she waves around the popsicles she has in her hand. Wanda looks up from her book to inspect the items as Ellie pushes them into her hands. You’re a few feet behind watching as Wanda interacts with the little girl.
“Do you think the baby likes fudgesicles?” Ellie asks as she drops down on the picnic blanket.
“I don’t know, Kiddo, you have to ask him.” You say as you sit next to Max. You watch with pure adoration as Ellie takes it upon herself to lift Wanda’s shirt to expose her swollen belly. Wanda looks over to you with amusement in her eyes.
“Hi baby brother or sister,” Ellie begins. “Mommy told me to ask you if you like Fudgesicles. I bought some for you.” Ellie waits as if she’s truly expecting an answer. “Baby says yes.” She looks up at Wanda for confirmation. Wanda takes the Fudgesicle with gratitude as she licks into it.
“I think baby made a good choice,” Wanda grins. She runs her free hands over Ellie’s brown ringlets to smooth it down a bit.
“Me too,” Ellie says in between licks.
“I think I made a good choice,” You say and Wanda nods. Her too.
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pucksandpower · 9 months
Note
Ooh, for the grid kids series, how about the time when all the grid kids had to babysit Seb and y/n's daughter? I feel like it would be chaos all around.
Grid Kids: Baby-Sitters Club
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: the grid kids have tamed some of the fastest cars on the planet but can they tame their baby sister?
Series Masterlist
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Max Verstappen: Good Taste in Music
“Alright, mate, remember, she likes the pacifier if she starts crying and always check if she’s hungry,” Sebastian instructs as he hands over the baby monitor to Max.
Max nods, trying to hide the nervousness on his face. “Got it. How hard can it be? I’ve tamed a Red Bull, after all.”
You chuckle, “It’s not the same, Max. She’s not going to pit in 2.4 seconds if she needs something.”
Handing over a small pink bag, you add, “There’s some milk in the bottle and a few toys. Oh, and if she starts crying and won’t stop, play her the Formula 1 theme. She strangely calms down to that.”
Max, cradling the baby carefully in his arms, smirks. “Like mother, like daughter.”
Sebastian laughs, “Alright, we’ll be back in a couple of hours. You got this.”
An hour into his babysitting gig and things are surprisingly smooth. Max and the little one are seated on the couch, with him talking to her about overtaking techniques and the importance of tire management.
Suddenly, a small wail interrupts his monologue. Max’s eyes widen in slight panic. He tries the pacifier. No luck. He checks the diaper. Still dry. The wailing grows louder.
Thinking quickly, he connects his phone to the speakers and starts playing the F1 theme song. Just as you said, the baby’s cries subside and she starts to doze off.
Max lets out a sigh of relief, whispering to the now sleeping baby, “You’re going to be a racer, aren’t you? Just remember, Maxie taught you the basics.”
A few hours later, you return to find Max fast asleep on the couch with a snoozing baby cuddled on his chest, the F1 theme playing softly in the background. You share a smile, knowing your little girl is in good hands with her grid brothers.
Charles Leclerc: Start Them Young
“Okay, she might be a bit tricky during her nap times. She’s been fighting sleep a lot lately,” you adjust the baby bag over Charles’ shoulder.
Charles gives a confident nod, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Don’t worry, I have a plan. Have you ever tried Ferrari engine sounds to help her fall asleep?”
Sebastian chuckles, “Not quite the lullaby most kids go for but anything is worth a shot.”
You smile, patting Charles on the back, “Good luck. We’ll be back soon.”
An hour into babysitting, the little one is becoming restless, rubbing her eyes, yet refusing to close them. Charles has an idea. Booting up his laptop, he finds a clip from one of the recent races, and soon, the familiar sound of a roaring Ferrari engine fills the room.
Amazingly, the baby’s eyes start to droop, and within minutes, she’s sound asleep. Charles grins triumphantly, feeling quite proud of his unconventional method.
Later, he decides to do a mini photoshoot, dressing her up in a tiny Ferrari onesie he secretly bought and posing her with a little Ferrari model car.
Upon returning, you and Sebastian are welcomed by a giggling Charles showing them the adorable pictures. “Look, she’s a natural Tifosa! We start them young.”
Sebastian laughs, “That’s one way to do it. Just remember, she’s got Red Bull and Aston Martin blood too.”
Charles winks, “We’ll see about that!"
You can’t help but laugh, “No matter the team, she’s got the best grid brothers around.”
Lance Stroll: Canadian by Proxy
“Alright, little miss, ready for some Canadian immersion?” Lance grins widely, holding up a tiny hockey stick and puck. “It’s never too early for your first hockey lesson.”
You raise an eyebrow, laughing, “I’m not sure she can even hold that stick yet, let alone play.”
Lance winks, adjusting the baby-sized Montreal Canadiens jersey he brought with him. “Trust me, by the time I’m done, she’ll be ready for the NHL.”
Sebastian smirks, “Just remember, no actual skating yet.”
With you and Sebastian heading out, Lance sets the scene for a cozy afternoon. He places the baby on a soft blanket, surrounding her with plush hockey toys, and turns on a recorded game. Soon, the room echoes with the sounds of cheering fans and commentary.
The baby gazes curiously at the screen, her little fingers reaching out to grasp the mini puck Lance places in front of her. Lance, laying beside her, narrates the game with exaggerated commentary, making her giggle with delight.
Halfway through their game, Lance feels adventurous. He gently places the baby in a laundry basket cushioned with a plush blanket, using the mini hockey stick to push her around, mimicking the action on the TV screen. Her laughter fills the room as they play their unique version of indoor hockey.
By the time you return, you find Lance, completely worn out, sprawled on the floor, with your daughter, dressed in her little hockey jersey, contentedly napping next to him, clutching the mini stick.
Sebastian laughs, “Looks like you had quite the game.”
Lance grins, slightly out of breath, “She’s got potential. Might just be the next German hockey prodigy.”
You chuckle, “Thanks, Lance. Just remember, before hockey comes racing.”
He winks, “We’ll see. Maybe She’ll bring the Stanley Cup back home to Montreal one day!”
George Russell: Pulling Pigtails
“George! Over here!” You wave, holding out the baby bag as George ambles over, hair in its usual perfect quiff.
“Well, hello there!” George greets, bending over to coo at the baby who instantly reaches out, tiny fingers eager to grab his thick hair.
“Looks like someone’s a fan of your hair,” Sebastian remarks with a chuckle, watching as his daughter gleefully tugs on George's hair.
George laughs, wincing just a tad. “It’s alright, who needs a hairdresser when you have such a cute little stylist?”
You hand over a bottle of milk, “She just had a nap and might be hungry soon. And, well, you might want to keep an eye on your hair.”
With baby in arms, George heads over to the living room. Laying out a blanket, he places her down, only to have her immediately try crawling towards him, reaching for his hair again. Grinning, he plays a little game, leaning in close and then pulling back, making her giggle each time.
As the afternoon progresses, George discovers that his hair is the ultimate distraction. Whether she’s fussy or just bored, having his hair within reach keeps her entertained. Even feeding her becomes easier as she remains captivated by his hair while sipping on her milk.
Feeling a tad mischievous, George decides to shoot a quick Instagram story, showing the world his new hairdresser in action. Fans immediately flood the comments, loving the adorable interaction between the racing star and the tiny tot.
When you and Sebastian return, you find George seated, baby in his lap, both engrossed in a video of funny hair fails. His hair now looks nothing like its usual pristine self, instead resembling a bird’s nest.
“Seems like you two had quite the day,” you remark with a laugh.
George, brushing a hand through his tousled hair, smiles, “Best hair appointment ever. And the most adorable tiny stylist to boot.”
Lando Norris: Stealing the Show
“Alright, munchkin, just you and me today. How hard can this be?” Lando chirps, picking up the little bundle and settling her onto the couch, surrounding her with cushions. The room is set up for his usual streaming session, his gaming chair at the ready and multiple screens glowing.
He’s barely into his first game when a small cry interrupts him. “Hungry already?” he asks, looking over to see her trying to grab the controller lying next to her. “Ah, you want in on the action?”
Quickly, Lando scoops her up and settles her on his lap, handing her a toy controller. “There you go, co-host,” he says with a grin, adjusting his headset and returning to his game.
He’s live-streaming and the chat exploded with comments about his adorable helper.
Who’s the kiddo?
That’s some fierce competition you got there!
Does she have her own Twitch channel yet?
But the peace doesn’t last long. In the middle of a particularly intense race, the baby suddenly decides to slam her toy controller on the keyboard. The game goes haywire, Lando’s car spinning out of control.
“Oh no! Sabotage!” Lando exclaims, laughing even as he tries to regain control.
The baby giggles, clearly pleased with the chaos she’s caused. Lando’s chat goes wild with laughter and teasing comments.
Dude, you just got schooled by a baby!
That’s what you get for multi-tasking
She’s clearly the superior gamer
Shaking his head in mock exasperation, Lando says, “Alright, alright, you win this round.” He lifts her up, peppering her face with playful kisses, making her squeal and show a gummy smile.
Throughout the stream, there are more interruptions — from spit-up incidents to sudden dance breaks every time she gets fussy. Lando quickly learns that streaming with a baby requires a whole new level of multitasking.
As the stream comes to an end, Lando addresses his viewers. “Thanks for joining in. Hope you enjoyed the special appearance by our youngest gamer here. Maybe we’ll make this a regular thing?”
The unanimous response? More baby streams!
Chuckling, Lando signs off, “Say bye-bye, little co-driver.”
She waves her tiny hand as the screen goes black.
Mick Schumacher: Baby Meets Fur Baby
“Hey there, Ang,” Mick says with a smile as he enters the room, the baby cradled in his arms. Angie, his Australian Shepherd, immediately perks up, her tail wagging enthusiastically.
The baby’s eyes widen as she takes in the large, furry creature approaching her. Mick chuckles, gently lowering her onto the floor as he kneels down beside her. “This is Angie,” he introduces, watching as the dog sniffs curiously at the baby.
Angie’s warm, wet nose tickles the baby’s palm and she lets out a squeal, her fingers curling in delight. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend,” Mick chuckles, patting Angie’s head.
As if sensing the baby’s fascination, Angie sits down and gently places her head in the baby’s lap. The baby giggles, her tiny fingers brushing against the soft fur. Mick watches the interaction with a fond smile, his heart melting at the sight of his dog and baby sister bonding.
Mick then picks up a toy from the nearby pile and hands it to the baby. “Here you go, little one. Angie’s sharing her toys with you.”
The baby takes the toy, inspecting it with wide eyes before promptly attempting to shove it into Angie’s mouth. Mick chuckles softly, taking the toy from her and showing her how to play with it.
“Hey, Angie, be gentle,” Mick instructs his dog, who seems just as excited as the baby about the playtime. As Angie retrieves her own toy and lays down beside the baby, Mick joins them on the floor, ensuring the little one doesn’t get overwhelmed.
Time flies as they play together, the baby’s giggles filling the room. Mick can’t help but smile at the simple joy on her face and he finds himself falling into a gentle rhythm with her.
After a while, the baby’s eyelids start to droop and her fingers loosen their grip on the toy. Mick smiles, knowing she’s getting tired. “Looks like someone’s ready for a nap,” he whispers, carefully picking her up and cradling her in his arms.
Angie follows them as they make their way to the nursery. Mick gently lays her down in the crib, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Sleep tight, little one.”
As he turns to leave the room, Angie hesitates by the crib, looking back at the baby with a soft whimper. Mick chuckles, scratching behind her ears. “Don’t worry, Ang. You’ll be here when she wakes up.”
Runaway Baby
Max, face flushed, darts through the paddock, narrowly avoiding a mechanic pushing a cart of tires. “I swear I just saw her here!” he shouts, barely avoiding a collision.
Lando, holding a stuffed bear, pants as he catches up, “I turned around for a second and she was gone! How does someone so small move so fast?”
Charles is on the phone, trying to speak over the noise, “We’ve got everything under control, just ... some tiny mishaps. Nothing to worry about!”
“Tiny mishaps? Charles, that’s an understatement!” George interrupts, waving a baby bottle in his hand.
Lance, coming out of the Aston Martin garage, looks worried, “Checked the garages, no sign of her. We need a strategy guys, like an actual race strategy but without Ferrari messing it up this time.”
George chimes in, “How did we lose her? There were six of us and one of her!”
Mick looks pale, “I was showing her my dad’s old helmet and turned around for one second to put it down. Then she just toddled away while I wasn’t looking!"
Suddenly, from a distance, there’s a familiar baby giggle. They turn to see a reporter, microphone in hand, crouched down in front of a camera. Their sister sits beside him, happily babbling away, reaching out for the fuzzy microphone cover.
The reporter, clearly amused, asks, “And who do you think is going to win the race today?” The baby, enthralled with the microphone, tries to chew on it.
Lando sighs in relief, “Well, she’s got a future in media, that’s for sure.”
Charles approaches the duo, scooping up the baby and thanking the reporter. “Thanks for babysitting. You might have a new pundit here.”
The grid kids gather around, all breathing sighs of relief. Max ruffles his sister’s hair, “You gave us quite the scare, snoepje.”
“She definitely knows how to steal the spotlight,” Mick says with a chuckle.
You and Sebastian, having witnessed the chaos from afar, approach with raised eyebrows. You smirk, “You guys thought babysitting in the paddock would be easy?”
Lando grins sheepishly, “Definitely more challenging than a race, that’s for sure.”
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notleclerc · 1 month
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Too Hot
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🤍Charles x Fem!Reader
🤍summary: in which the game „Too Hot“ challenges ones desires
🤍warning: getting a little steamy here but nothing to big
🤍a/n: I got inspired by @yuwuta with the JJK version and was like „ok slay lemme try it as well“ // English is not my first language so please have mercy on me🥺
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In the heart of Monaco, where the streets echo with the roar of engines and the glitz of the Grand Prix, a different kind of heat simmers beneath the surface. It's not the scorching sun or the adrenaline of racing that sets hearts racing, but a playful game of Too Hot. And amidst the glamorous backdrop, you find yourself entangled in a steamy encounter with none other than Charles Leclerc.
Ever since Lando started to learn how to be a Dj, he‘s been throwing parties left and right, having only VVIP‘s in the club. Models, Actors, Athlete‘s - you name it. Obviously, that means the whole Grid is always welcome to join the fiesta. Charles, being the supportive friend he is, gets ready to dress up and waits for his girlfriend.
Y/n makes sure to wear a beautful red dress. God, that dress could make the devil go weak in his knees. Charles couldn‘t help but admire her.
„Tu es très belle, mon amour“ (you look beautiful my love)
he says, his voice tender with a soft look on his face.
You smile as you feel your cheeks getting warmer, giving yourself a natural blush. You give him a peck on his chin, as you are smaller even in heels.
„Merci Cha“ (thank you)
The two of you leave his appartement and go straight to his oh-so-famous Ferrari, the one that puts everyone in awe of its beauty (or the beauty driving it). The ride was smooth and no words were exchanged as the two of them enjoyed the calm and warmth.
It didn‘t take them long to reach the club, the music already indicating that Charles and Y/n were fashionably late. Charles hands his keys to a valet since he can‘t, for the love of god, park the car right. You tease him about it way too often.
„Et ils disent que les femmes ne peuvent pas se garer“ (and they say women can‘t park)
you say teasingly.
Charles chuckles and places his hand on your waist, guiding you towards the entrance. He made sure to get down to your ear and whispered softly
„Surveille ta bouche ou je le ferai pour toi, bébé“ (watch your mouth or i‘ll do it for you babe)
As you both enter, one with a smirk and the other with flushed cheeks, Lando greets the two of you with a wave from the DJ booth and makes sure to let you both know where the others are.
The party can begin.
As the night unfolds and the party reaches its peak, you catch sight of Charles across the room, his charismatic smile drawing you in like a magnet. You were dancing with the girlfriends of the drivers and having the time of your life. Your pulse quickens as Charles suddendly approaches, his confident stride sending a thrill down your spine.
"Hey there," he greets you with a charming grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Fancy a game of Too Hot?"
You're taken aback by the invitation, but the thrill of the challenge beckons you. "Sure, why not?" you reply, unable to resist the allure of his playful proposal. The two of you love challenges no matter what the situation is.
The rules are simple: two people kiss while keeping their hands to themselves, and the first to touch their partner loses. With a shared glance and a silent agreement, you both dive into the game, the tension between you palpable.
As your lips meet in a teasingly tender kiss, the world around you fades into obscurity, leaving only the electrifying connection between you and Charles. His touch is intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that blazes with each passing moment.
"Tu es un sacré compétiteur“ (You're quite the competitor)
Charles murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with desire.
„Mais je n'y vais pas de main morte avec toi, ma petite fleur“ (But I won't go easy on you, my little flower)
he adds playfully.
You respond with a playful challenge of your own, reveling in the thrill of the chase as you dance on the edge of temptation. Each kiss becomes a daring game of brinkmanship, testing the limits of self-control.
Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in the heated exchange, the boundaries between reality and desire blurring into a tantalizing haze. The world outside ceases to exist as you and Charles become locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to concede defeat.
But as the game reaches its climax, a surge of longing courses through you, threatening to overwhelm your resolve. With a breathless gasp, you instinctively reach out, your hand brushing against Charles's cheek in a moment of unguarded passion.
"Je gagne“ (I win)
he whispers triumphantly, a smug grin playing on his lips as he leans in to claim victory with a searing kiss.
„Je te laisse gagner parce que c'est la seule fois où tu le fais“ (I let you win because that‘s the only time you do)
You teased him again and couldn‘t help but laugh, seeing his baffled face. He puts his hand on your cheeks and squeezes them together. He looks down at me and shakes his head softly with a certain intensity to his eyes.
„Tu veux vraiment jouer à la cochonne avec moi ? Tu sais ce que les sales gosses obtiennent de mon amour.“ (you really want to play dirty with me? You know what brats get my love)
He caresses your cheek with his thumb as he tilted his head.
Ne m'oblige pas à te faire ça, ma belle. (Don‘t make me do it to you sweetcheeks)
He goes back to squeeze your cheeks together and pulls you closer to him with a warning look in his ocean eyes. As the night draws to a close and the party fades into memory, you carry with you the lingering warmth of Charles's touch, a tantalizing reminder of a fiery encounter that ignited sparks in the heart of Monaco.
As for what happens after the party? Only the two of them and maybe the neighbour will know ;).
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Now that escalted quickly👀 HAVE MERCY ON ME!! I don‘t know how to write intimate moments aka the humpy dumpty so please take this as a chance to let your mind run freely 🥹
Reblog, comments and likes are aprreciated
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roosterforme · 3 months
Text
Adult Education Part 21 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jake works to secure his future with Jessica while also being supportive of her. She is dreading Brian's return to work, but she recognizes that she finally has the friends she deserves.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, language, 18+
Length: 4200 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Jessica had never been hungover during the week before, but all the celebratory champagne and rough sex had definitely gone to her head a little bit. She groaned when she felt Jake's hand on her shoulder. "Baby, you have to get up," he said, voice hoarse next to her ear. "We have to go to work."
"Oh, god," she groaned, rolling over away from him. "No."
"You have to," he repeated. "It's your first day with tenure, Reedy. You have to go."
A smile spread across her lips in spite of her headache, and she whispered, "Tenure. I have tenure."
"You sure do," Jake drawled softly, and she finally opened her eyes to see him grinning at her. "If you get up now, I'll make you breakfast."
Her stomach growled so loudly they both laughed, and then she pouted playfully. "But I don't have a waffle iron."
He kissed her forehead. "No. But I do. And you told me you weren't going to renew your lease."
"I'm not," she whispered as her heart swelled with happiness. 
"Well, soon enough you'll have daily access to waffles," he whispered, kissing her just below her ear. "I guess I better start cleaning out my closet to make room for your lingerie collection."
Now she wanted to move in with him as soon as possible. She could already picture herself organizing all of her pretty pieces in his nice closet while modeling a few of them for him. She still had some things he'd never seen her in, and it was going to be so much fun to tease him. 
"Get up," he said, patting her butt as he climbed out of bed. "I'll make some eggs."
Jessica went through her morning routine only after taking some Advil, and she had to drink two mugs of coffee before she really felt human. She also left her apartment a good fifteen minutes after than she usually did. "You'll be late," she fretted, running toward her car which was parked next to Jake's truck. "You'll get in trouble."
"Nah," he replied, "Bradshaw will cover for me." He kissed Jessica as she tried to push him toward his truck, stumbling in her high heels.
"Go to work. Goodbye. I love you," she said quickly. "I'll see you tonight!" 
"See you tonight, tenured Dr. Reed," he called out as she climbed into her car and started the engine. 
Jessica barely had time to get to her office before she had to grab her notebooks and head back downstairs to give her first lecture of the day. But it felt so damn good to stand there in front of her students. Dr. Rosenthal wouldn't be stopping in, because he didn't need to. Because she had tenure. And now that her headache was virtually gone and the breakfast that Jake made was sitting nicely in her belly, she kind of felt like screaming about it from the rooftops. 
But she settled for screaming about it at lunchtime when she grabbed the little container of food Jake made and took it over to the math building. After one knock on her friend's office door, it swung open revealing a bright smile. Jessica screeched quietly and hugged her. 
"I have tenure," she whispered.
"Well, obviously," Advanced Calculus replied. "There was never any doubt in my mind."
Jessica set her lunch down on the desk while her friend closed the door. "I can't thank you enough for everything you did for me. Helping me set everything up with Rosenthal and giving up so much of your free time and everything," she gushed. "Just... thank you. And I hope you had a nice time at the library with Bradley."
She snorted in response as she opened her tie dye lunchbox. "Bradley had a great time at the library, as per usual. And once again, I don't think you appreciate how very much I want to see Brian go down like a sinking ship. In fact, I volunteered for another special project."
"What kind of project?" Jessica asked as she watched her friend dip a carrot stick into some hummus. 
"I can't talk about it quite yet. I have another meeting with Dean Walters in an hour, but I think it's a project that you'll fully support." Then she bit into the carrot like a woman who was in complete control of her surroundings, and Jessica couldn't think of a single reason why she couldn't be the same way.
"If you think I'll appreciate your new project, then I can't wait to hear about it later," she said, taking a bite of the delicious food Jake made for her. 
"I'll tell you all about it as soon as I can."
After lunch, Jessica took some time to gather her scattered notes to teach Brian's senior studies class for the last time. She learned as much about chemistry from the students as they had from her, and after she worked a few problems out on the board with them, she asked, "If you have any other questions for me, please let me know now. This is the last time I'll be covering this class."
"What do you mean?" one of the students asked, leaning forward in his seat. 
"Dr. Conley will be back for class next week," she explained, and then she heard an outraged sigh followed by some muttering. "It'll be okay though," she said in a tone she hoped was reassuring. "You've all been doing so well, and you're so close to graduation now!"
"But Dr. Conley doesn't even show up to class."
"He doesn't help us with anything."
"Is there any way you can stay until the end of the semester?"
"What about the practice problems you give us?"
The sudden influx of comments and questions made Jessica feel better and also so much worse at the same time. She let them all get their concerns out of their system before she said, "My office hours are always available for you. And you can still email me if you want to. I can even try to make more practice problems, but honestly, all of you are much better at chemistry than I am. Maybe you can run the class yourselves if Dr. Conley isn't here?"
She hated Brian. She actually still hated him. But more so for these students now than on her own behalf. They all looked concerned and apprehensive, and she spent another ten minutes talking to them until they were calm enough to head to their next class. She wished she could finish teaching them for the rest of the semester, and she decided she would ask Dean Walters if there was any chance she could teach her own senior studies class for physics majors next school year.
-----------------------------
Jake was already home and showered with dinner in the oven, eating some chips on the couch while he waited for Jessica. He was keeping a running tally of things he still needed to give her since he'd already willingly handed over his heart. His spare key was sitting next to his feet which were propped up on the coffee table. He had already cleaned out half of his closet and consolidated his stuff to make some room. And he wanted to pay for the flights to Massachusetts and Texas for her once she approved the dates. 
When his phone lit up with a text letting him know she was here, he ran down to her car in just his sweatpants and slippers with his spare key ring looped around his finger. "Did you have a good day?" he asked, taking her overnight bag from her hand as she locked her car.
"I did," she replied quietly. "I left so late, because I talked to the dean about teaching my own senior studies class next term."
"And?"
She smiled as they walked to his condo. "He said it's a good possibility now that I have tenure."
"There's nothing you can't do." Jake kissed her and pressed the key ring into her hand.
"What's this?" she asked, looking at it as she stood outside the front door. "Oh!" She slipped it into the lock and let them both inside as she blushed. "You want me to have it now? Even though I'm not moving in quite yet?"
"Please," he replied as he walked inside, his eyes catching on the print of his jet that she gave him for his birthday. "You can come and go as you want, but I hope you'll be here more often than not."
Jake watched as she took her keys out again and added his ring to them. "Thank you." She was fiddling with them a little bit when she looked up at him as she stepped out of her high heels. "Brian will be back tomorrow," she said softly. "That's what Dr. Rosenthal told me when I ran into him. And if he doesn't know I have tenure by now, he'll find out soon enough."
Jake collected her in his arms. "He can't do anything about it now, Reedy. It's a done deal. And unless you fuck up spectacularly at work, which you definitely won't, he's not entitled to say anything about it."
She nodded against him. "I know that. I do know that, but I still don't want to have to see him and hear his stupid, condescending voice complain about me."
He pressed his nose to her hair and kissed her before he whispered, "You wear your tenure like a shield. And if he can't figure out how to shut his mouth, you let me know, and I'll be there in an instant."
Jessica shivered in his arms. "That shouldn't sound as sexy as it does. You know..." she mused, "none of this would have happened if you hadn't punched Brian in the face the first time. So I guess I really have you to thank."
"How so?" Jake asked as he led her to the kitchen where the oven timer was going off. 
"You punched Brian, and then his wife saw his messed up face. And then she came to campus looking for answers and found him with the teaching assistant. And then he took a leave of absence." When Jake set down the baking dish and glanced over his shoulder, she was smiling brightly. "Jake, you literally saved my career with your fist!"
He shrugged and shook off his oven mitts. "All I did was punch someone who was trying to intimidate my girlfriend. I'll do it again if I have to. Now, would you like some parmesan cheese sprinkled on top of your dinner?" he asked as he cut into the casserole. He ended up with Jessica in his arms. 
----------------------------
Jessica heard the whispers all day on Thursday. If Dr. Rosenthal hadn't told her that Brian was coming back, she would have chalked it up to everyone at the university being addicted to their daily gossip, but she half expected to see him lurking around every corner. She kind of wanted to go right to Brian's office, knock on the door and tell him that she got tenure just to get it over with. But when she thought about seeing his face, she shook her head in disgust. 
She hadn't heard much from Jake all day, and Advanced Calculus was scarce as well. But when she went to the lounge to make a sad cup of coffee before her office hours started, the teaching assistant that Brian had been sleeping with was in there along with another one that Jessica wasn't familiar with. They must not have seen her at first as they were clearly talking about Brian.
"He looks terrible, honestly. Like he hasn't slept. I'm sure he's going to ask me if I want to mess around again, especially since his wife left."
"I don't know. I heard he's actually pretty upset that she took the kids. But I really want to know who broke his nose in the first place."
Jessica considered sneaking back out of the room, but it was too late. They had seen her, and they both snapped their mouths closed. Had Sabrina Conley really taken their kids? Was she gone for good? Jessica thought she'd probably be better off without her husband. She also wanted to ask the TA if she knew Brian was married when they were messing around before, but it was really none of her business. 
"Hi," she greeted evenly, strolling toward the coffee maker. The only sound in the small room was her high heels tapping against the floor as she walked. But neither of them said a word in response before they turned and left. Maybe they were embarrassed about being caught talking about Brian, or maybe Jessica still had a bad reputation in the science department. Either way, she was going to take her coffee upstairs and wait for Luca to stop by before spending the night cuddled up with Jake. 
When she finished stirring her drink and turned toward the door, she almost spilled her coffee all over herself. "Brian," she gasped, taking an awkward step backwards so her hip hit the edge of the counter a bit painfully. He looked so angry, she immediately felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest as her nerves took over. 
"Call me Dr. Conley," he snapped, and she could feel her face flushing with embarrassment as she stood there silently. 
Jessica's hands shook as she tried to walk to the door, but he didn't budge from his spot blocking her exit path. "Excuse me," she said, trying her best to sound stronger than she felt. 
"I don't even want to know how badly your lesson plans have gone off course over the past few weeks," he practically growled. "You're going to need to schedule a meeting with me to go over everything. The sooner the better."
"No."
Brian looked surprised by her response. "Yes," he replied with a sarcastic laugh. "I know you think you really did something special by getting that asshole to punch me in the face, but your days here are fucking numbered. Understand?"
"No," Jessica repeated as Jake's voice in her mind kept telling her to wear her tenure like a shield. Plus, she could clearly picture the paperwork she signed with Dr. Rosenthal since she read over it a dozen times. "I don't have to answer to you about my curriculum choices any longer."
He laughed. "Okay, so now you're unreliable, slutty, and stupid?"
"I have tenure," she said firmly, gripping the coffee a little tighter while his eyes bugged out in anger. 
He shook his head. "You can't get tenure unless you get it through me," he snarled.
Jessica looked at his crooked nose and miserable expression, and if she wasn't on the verge of tears, she might have laughed. "You can ask Dean Walters for a copy of my signed paperwork. And if you have concerns about my curriculum, then you can take it up with him." She tried to duck past him through the doorway, certain her resolve was almost gone now. 
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian demanded loudly, and she jumped back. "Explain yourself right fucking now."
"Dr. Conley!" came a familiar voice from the hallway, and then Dr. Rosenthal was poking his head in the lounge door. "You shouldn't be raising your voice like that to Dr. Reed, especially since you're on probation."
"Probation?" Jessica whispered, and Brian's face soured further.
"Mind your own business, Rosenthal," he snapped, and under his breath he added, "you should have retired a decade ago."
"Yes. Probation," came another familiar voice as Advanced Calculus strolled in with a notebook in her hand like she hadn't a care in the world. She stopped right in front of Brian with her back to Jessica, acting almost like a buffer. "He's in a lot of trouble," she said in a voice that bordered on teasing, and Brian's face grew pink.
"What do you mean?" Jessica whispered, and the other woman smirked at her over her shoulder.
"He's on probation for a history of behavioral issues, and I volunteered to be his probation officer of sorts," she replied before turning back toward Brian. "Don't forget, Dean Walters asked to check in with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I'll be dropping by your classes to make sure you actually show up to them. Oh, and I'll have to add to my report that you raised your voice to a professor with tenure while she was just trying to make a cup of coffee." She tapped her notebook. "It's not looking good, Brian."
Jessica watched Dr. Rosenthal shuffle away after he cleared his throat, and Brian spun on his heel to follow suit. "Is this for real?" Jessica asked, looking around the room to try and tell if she was in a dream.
"Yep. He's my new volunteer project. I think Dean Walters could just tell that I have a lot of experience taming fuckboys. But Brian takes the cake, let me tell you. He's been skipping out on his classes to meet up with different women."
Jessica adjusted her glasses and looked at the floor as she whispered, "I never missed my classes when he and I were...."
"Of course not," she said blandly. "That's why you were given tenure instead of being put on probation. You actually do your job. He doesn't. Now, I was thinking about Chippy's tomorrow night? Kind of a celebration?"
Jessica just blinked at her. "A celebration for what?"
"You! A tenure party! Fratraiser part deux as Bradley has been calling it. You know what, I'll take care of the whole thing. Don't even stress about it."
Jessica had been planning on spending the weekend cleaning out her apartment before she started to move a few things to Jake's place. But going out for a bit could be fun. She had more friends in San Diego now than she ever dreamed she would. "What were you thinking? Like a double date?"
"Something like that," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "How about tomorrow night at eight?"
"Let me check with Jake," she said right away.
"Oh, Jake already knows."
--------------------------------
"We'll just stay for a little bit and then head home again," Jessica whispered as she and Jake made their way slowly from his truck to Chippy's. He was fucking obsessed with the way she just called his condo home. He was obsessed with everything about her as he pressed her up against the side of Chippy's out on the sidewalk. She'd let him dress her for the night by turning it into a game, and he had chosen a black lace bodysuit paired with a mini skirt and denim jacket.
"I made a mistake," he whispered, voice rough with need as he let his hand slip underneath the skirt. Then he moaned, "A huge mistake."
She laughed as he bumped her glasses with his nose while he kissed her ear. "Did you?"
Jake was uncomfortably hard in his jeans. "Baby, I really want to fuck you. And your outfit is not helping," he added as he squeezed her bare thigh.
"That's your fault," she whispered with a grin while he whined. "Seriously, we'll just stay for a drink or two. It'll be like a double date. And then we can do whatever you want, okay?"
Jake took her hand in his, kissed her fingers and said, "On the way home, you're ordering those toys from that dirty website you found. I think we need all of them."
He could tell she was blushing in the darkness by the warmth of her cheeks against his lips. "Okay," she agreed softly, and Jake had to adjust himself in his jeans before they could walk inside. 
"Holy shit," he gasped when a crowd of people cheered Congratulations! to his girlfriend. Bradshaw's wife didn't mention there would be this many people in attendance. He saw Bradshaw with his backwards hat and hideous tie dye shirt with his arms wrapped around his wife, but all of the other aviators were there, too. Jake spotted a much older man in a sweater vest sipping a beer, and he assumed that must have been Rosenthal. And of course someone had invited Dev.
"You okay?" Jake asked Jessica as she just stood next to him with happy tears in her eyes. She nodded and sniffed as she read the banner that was hanging above Chippy behind the bar. 
CONGRATS, REEDY!
"Yeah, I'm okay," she whispered, burying herself against Jake as he wrapped his arm around her. "I'm just surprised so many people cared enough to be here."
"Don't cry, Jess!" Bradley shouted over the music and conversation as his wife headed over. "It's a happy occasion! It's not like you're in a relationship with Jake or something horrible. Oh... wait...."
Jake shot him a nasty look while he laughed hysterically, and he watched Jessica hug everyone in attendance, thanking all of them individually for coming to her party. Jake briefly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as he asked, "You want a Sam Adams, Baby?"
"Yes," she replied, but then she added, "but I want to thank Chippy, too." And with that, Jessica walked right behind the bar and gave the grouchy bar owner a hug, and Jake saw a rare smile break out on his face. "Thank you for always welcoming me here," she told him softly while Jake leaned on the bar. "I felt safe here when I didn't really feel safe anywhere else."
Chippy patted her on the head and then started to push her away as he got a little emotional himself. "You're always welcome here, Reedy," he told her before he started to reach for some bowls to fill them with peanuts, and Jessica walked back around the bar and into Jake's arms. Chippy poured a few beers, and set them down in front of Jake as he growled, "So I guess you're sticking around then?"
"Looks that way," Jake replied, leaning down to kiss Jessica's cheek. "Until this one comes to her senses."
"I told you I wouldn't," she replied with a laugh. Then she turned to Chippy and said, "He's not so bad. And he's sweet to me."
"Then I guess he can stay," Chippy replied with a shrug, still glaring slightly. 
Jake picked up two beers and led the way to a table near the others while Jessica carried the peanuts. "I think he finally tolerates me," Jake boasted. 
"It only took you several months," she replied with a smirk. "Chippy didn't fall for your charms as quickly as I did."
Jake set the beers down next to the peanuts and pulled Jessica closer to him. "You made me work hard for it. Ever since the first night I met you when you brought me here for a three dollar beer."
She reached up and raked her fingers through his hair. "I had to know for sure. That you really wanted me."
Jake kissed her rough on the lips right in front of everyone. "I need you, Jessica," he promised, making her smile. "I love you."
"Okay, that's enough of that," Bradshaw's wife said, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "I just have a few words I want to say." She looked a little emotional as she started. "Jessica, you've become one of my very best friends in just a few short months. I know that your time at San Diego State started off a little rocky for you, and I'm sincerely sorry from the bottom of my heart that I didn't take the time to get to know you last semester when you really needed a friend in your corner. You're one of the kindest and smartest people I have ever met in my life."
Jake held Jessica as she looked like she was about to cry. "I'm the one who should be saying nice things to you!" she replied, swiping at her tears behind her glasses. "You've done so much to help me."
"And you've done so much by taking Jake off our hands for us," Bradley added loudly as everyone started laughing. 
"That's fair," Jake admitted with a grin as he pressed his lips to Jessica's hair.
Then Bradshaw's wife lifted her pint glass in the air, and everyone else did as well. "Congratulations on your tenure, Dr. Reed!"
The bar erupted in loud cheers, and Bradley shook up a bottle of champagne. Jake spent the rest of the night kissing the sticky sweetness from Jessica's face and making sure Dev kept his hands to himself. He made sure his girlfriend always had a Sam Adams in her hand and that her denim jacket was neatly buttoned over that bodysuit that he was dying to get his hands on. 
He didn't mind sharing Jessica with everyone else for the evening, especially since she'd made such a good friend in Bradshaw's wife. But much later, when Jessica turned and looked at him while she intentionally unbuttoned her jacket, he was more than ready to get her alone. 
"Take me home, Jake," she said sweetly, reaching for his hand. "I'm ready to go home."
He kissed her lips and wrapped his arms around her. "Let's get out of here, Smart Girl."
---------------------------
I hope you loved reading this as much as I have loved writing it! There will not be just one, but TWO epilogues! Stay tuned for those and pegging! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 22
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suguruplsr · 7 months
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4:00 AM
✰ your boyfriend picking you at damn near 4 am leads to you two fucking. not your fault he’s fine..
,, toji x fem reader , fluff + nsfw , some plot , loosely related to this , masturbation (m) , clit rubbing , he cums on your pussy , grinding , you ride his chest , use of “daddy” , body worship ? , light nipple & cum play , dirty talk , pet names (baby , mama , my lady , princess but jokingly , ) , mentioned that toji stole ur panties before (consensual)
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“same city, same hoes, can’t move sour”
“at this hour, it’s 4:00 am with you now what?”
“it’s ‘bout to go down”
“yeah, you left your crew, now what?”
“it’s ’bout to go down”
“shorty, what you wanna do?” - Pistashios, Brent Faiyaz
you stood outside of your local bar, light clothes with a puffy bubble coat, worst choice of clothes to wear considering you stayed with your whiskey all night. on the rocks of course.
maybe you’ve overdone it, it was so damn early in the morning, and you got there at 11 pm? maybe even 10. all you remember is your friends deciding to gang up together, who’ve probably left you by now, to make your night better than that trashy 9 to 5 job you work at everyday. well, worked. stupid old crusty men with their favoritism. you let it slide for a few months after he was appointed as your manger at the little boutique down the street. but even with the disgusting and not-so-smooth tone of his voice, you were pretty— no, hella fucking underpaid. and of course men like him switch up the second you question their behaviors.
at least toji wasn’t like that.
toji. oh fuck. you remember telling you’d let him know when you’d get home. which you clearly have no way getting to. especially after he gave you an eye roll, on the phone, when you gave a last second call to just tell him where you were. he swears you called so late because you wouldn’t be able to handle his judgment for you going to go get yourself shit-faced. but really, you did forget the “caring” man had goal of always being able to keep you safe, or at least keep up with your location, in case of emergencies. something that’s a high risk within this dump of a city.
your shaky and cold fingers tap through your phone, cursing yourself when it hits something else than your messages, eager to just get away from the building.
Friday [3:32 am] y/n — cranky: can u come pick me up..
Friday [3:32 am] cranky — pretty loser: you better explain yourself.
damn. same minute, and a period? as much as you love that man, you cannot handle a sassy ass toji, and most definitely not when there’s still fizzes of alcohol in you. you don’t want to end up in the wrong, right, bed because of some stupid shit you may say to fight back his side eyes.
you walk away from the double doors of the bar, heading towards the parking lot. you lean against the brick wall, watching the coldness of your breath drift off into the air. rnb music played softly in your earbuds, few people roaming the streets in the dark night. you could lightly hear a few drunken men exiting the bar doors with slurred words and laughs, all patting each others back.
how can they be so lively at this time of night? must’ve been a celebration.
well you don’t have room to talk. a bit impatient, you checked the time, 3:38. five minutes. now that you think about it, you weren’t sure how far toji’s house was from here.
distracting yourself, you ponder over the, “calculations”, in your head of about how much time it’d take for him to get here. well, until you hear the familiar engine of his ford mustang, you wonder how he was even able to afford the latest model.
but considering his occupation, you lose the thought all together.
it took 12 minutes in total. the second the suspicious black card is parked in front of you, you’re walking towards it with a fast pace. almost opening the door until he’s opening his door and quickly locking the doors. “what the fuck..?” you mutter, glaring at toji as he walks around the car with a huff of annoyance.
oh.
okay maybe he has some gentleman qualities, you think, letting him unlock and open the door for you, suffering the pain of touching the cold ass handle. yet he still hasn’t talked, not when he got in, not when he got back on the road with a hand on the wheel and the other in your hold, and not when he’s sat at a red light, currently giving you judgmental glances that are more painful than the silence.
“i wasn’t checking the time.” “yea no shit.” okay, you can do this.. you hope. “sooo maybe you shouldn’t look at me like that..?” you sing, holding toji’s hand a bit tighter, it’s big and warm, a comforting warmth that you bring up to your lips with a soft peck. “well maybe you shouldn’t have shit friends.” he grumbles, pressing the gas as soon as the light changes, unconsciously nudging his hand closer to feel your soft lips.
“oh c’mon, we were hanging out for hours. they probably had too much to drink and forgot about me or something..” you hum, turning to him and leaning over the arm rest, running a hand along his arm as he brings his fingers up to your chin. “did they ever text you?” he scoffs, squishing your cheeks, yet his eyes don’t leave the road. even if he did want to give you a knowing look from the sound of your silence as your check your phone.
3:51 • [no new messages]
and your mood falls downcast. biting your lip in nervousness as he waits for your response, maybe they’ll tell you their excuse later in the morning.
“you can’t blame them, it’s almost 4 am” you murmur. and he tuts, keeping your head upright as soon as you put down your phone. you know this street, the last light that leads to his creepy stale neighborhood full of rich old folks. wait, his neighborhood?
you don’t even have the energy to question his route. you just hope you don’t see that one old hag who always nags you two about your relationship.
the red beam reflects in your eyes, all doey and flickering him with a tiny pout tugging your lips. “well i don’t like their lack of care for their dear friend. next time you should just go with me.. and weren’t you the reason why you all even went? tsk.” toji’s face scrunch up, disdain clear in his expression while you ponder over his words.
“nothing’s gonna change your mind?” “nada.” and you sit back defeated. he hand moves to your thigh, squeezing it firmly as a light of green flashes. you stay silent, fiddling with his fingers. which are crazily bigger than yours, and could definitely use a trim. maybe you could cut his cuticles too? is that even safe? he could use a spa day in general, plus a massage, you’ve seen the way he’s twisted his body in insane ways just to crack his back.
you’re shaken from your thoughts when the music in the background stops, car parked and off as he steps out his door. after earlier, you were well reminded to not even touch the door handles, how could you ever forget that? he’s always been adamant on that.
he’s opening the door, greeting you with a small grin, “does the princess need to be carried?” toji chuckles lightly, giving you a hand and guiding you out of the car. “very funny.” you roll your eyes, a smile on your face as he locks the car doors and fishes through his keys for the one meant for the front door.
you walk out the shower, exhausted. and before you can even think of getting comfortable on his bed, you’re distracted by the figure on it.
it’s not like you haven’t seen toji’s body before, far from that, but it’s just something about it. his shirt off with a pair of sweats on. he was laying back against the headboard arms spread wide on it for you to slip easily in them. all with his eyes closed and comfortable.
his muscles are defined, probably made by greek gods from how perfectly they’re structured. and he’s so broad, taking up over half of the space with his large shoulders. just the sight of his neck makes you ache, you’re not sure why that is. but the way he tilts his head back, adam’s apple sticking out, makes you want to sit on his lap and kiss all over it, hands traveling along his physique.
“your mind must be in the gutter. y’r eatin’ me up like no tomorrow..”
toji calls you out with a smirk playing in his face, head tilting towards you. and you saunter over to him without hesitation, oblivious to the way his eyes darken in realization to what you’re wearing.
you don’t keep much clothes at his house, so you usually find yourself wearing his shirts with panties. panties, that he steals off you every now and then. but today you opted for wearing a little white spaghetti strap with a pair of cute pair of matching lace panties. the less, the better.
his eyes are stuck on the way your breasts jiggle when you take your spot on his lap, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling yourself closer. “i can’t help it. i just love your body..” you coo with a playful pout, letting your hands swarm along his body. it’s slow, adoring every inch of his skin and sometimes griping his muscles.
“i can say the same baby.” toji mutters, breath hitching when your hands begin to run up and down on his stomach. he’s probably poking your thighs by now from how sensitive he feels when your fingers drag along the outline of his v-line.
“oh yeah?”
“fuck yeah.”
and you giggle, holding his face with one hand as you two enter a kiss. your lips fight against each other hungrily while your other hand reaches down between your thighs, feeling his hard length strain in his pants. toji grunts when you begin to rub your thighs on it, squeezing them together, and the friction makes him pull away from your lips, head thrown back.
“shit. gunna make me cum.” he huffs out, and it makes your pussy throb. it’s so attractive, the long of his neck, the way his muscles visibly tighten and he’s grabbing the headboard to stabilize himself. you move your hands back behind you, holding onto his legs, and keeping your hips up to grind on his hard cock with your legs spread around his body. it's fucking amazing, the way he could see and feel your clothed pussy, the outline of his cock dragging along your folds.
“wanna feel it on my panties daddy..” you give a whine, tucking out your lips and looking up at him so cutely. and how can he say no?
toji wastes no time rolling his pants down a bit, fishing out his cock and holding the base, directing it towards your white panties. you hold back a moan at the feeling of his tip nudging your bud through your panties. he gives a few tight and short jerks of his cock as you push your pussy impossibly closer. “fuckin’ dirty, bet ya want ‘em soaked all over. gonna cum on that pussy n’ rub your panties on it.” his words make you whimper, feeling his fingers push the cloth aside.
toji smirks at the sight of your soaping pussy, wet and sensitive to the cold air. his tip slips through your folds, gathering the slick on his cock. “tojiii, o-ohh..” you can feel your body aching to lay back, tightening your grip on his legs as he teases your entrance. you can’t even pull your eyes away from his cock. it’s so girthy, tip lightly red with veins bulging a bit. you can’t help but want to reach down help him, his pre cum was coming out in slow little blobs.
“do it really slow n’ hard, base up. i-imagine my tongue dragging under your cock, your cock flat on it.” you murmur out, turning into a whine when he follows your command, a deep groan escaping him, “f-fuck you know about this baby? feels fucking gooood.” toji heaves, slowly picking up the pace when your hole sucks his tip in.
“how do you think i suck you off so good?” you give a small grin when he’s letting out a low ‘fuuck’, quickly pulling back to let his dick sit on your folds, spurts and globs of cum spilling onto your pussy. his doesn’t stop his hand, trying to make your pussy as messy as possible, and gripping your thigh tightly with the other. then he snaps your panties back in place, making you squirm from the hot feeling of his cum spreading around your pussy.
“oooh, ya feel that? s’all mushy n’ warm, yea?” toji chuckles, his eyes watching as a patch of wetness slowly forms on the cloth. “mhm! love it so much, but i wanna drag it all over y’r chest toji! been thinkin’ about it..” your whimpers has his dick twitching again, mindlessly pushing your panties against your hole, feeling around it. “fucking spoiled.” he scoffs.
and now here you are, both of you bare and naked with hickies and marks all over each other, sitting on his wide large chest, pussy flush against his muscles. “you can do it yourself right? c’mon mama, you got it.” toji gives a small smile, arms behind his head as you hold onto his shoulders. “y-yea, i got itt.. mm” when your pussy drags along the line of his chest, you fall down to little mewls, feeling every muscle of his chest.
“you see it baby? look at you makin’ a mess on me.” his body vibrates with his chuckle, going straight to your pussy. you drag your cunny on his defined muscles, going all the way down to his six pack. you bite your lip at the sight of his chest covered in the slick of your mixed cum.
it'd make a good wallpaper, you think.
"makes you look pretty." you mutter, not even thinking as you drag your fingers along the stream, before gripping on his sides and pulling yourself up. but before you can admire his nipples, he's flexing his chest, making you hold onto his biceps at the feeling.
"cute n' all but i wanna see her squirt on me." toji grins, moving his arms and holding you body upright with one hand.
his fingers pull a whine out you when he rubs your clit, tilting your body back a bit so he can smack your cunt with the palm of his hand. "toji!" "nah, wanna hear what you said earlier." and your stomach twists, he likes being called daddy? that's a first.
"can you make me cum daddy? wanna make y'r chest drip with my cum." your voice it slurred, giving him a pouty whine and biting that pretty lip of yours in frustration. and he's grinning, holding your body firmly.
"whatever my lady wants~" he teases, pressing your thighs down as much as he can to make sure your pelvis is pressed tightly against his body with no care for the way your knees hurt, because the sounds of your incoherent moans are better. you’re clawing his chest, being dragged so slowly on it and its so antagonizing. he even reaches down with a thumb to play with your bud, making your thigh shake around him.
“cum on me baby..” he whispers, his eyes trained on your gooey folds as the coil in your tummy breaks. “daddy—!” you cry, all teary as he keeps guiding you along his chest, not letting you escape your high and you both watch how the cum and juices leaving your cunny trickles onto his chest. “so cute..drippin’ all on me..” he groans when you smear your juices on one of his nipples, a coy smile playing on your face and asking him what you’ve been desperate for in a sweet tone.
“can i have y’r cock now daddy?”
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1968 Dodge Charger R/T
Introduction
The 1968 Dodge Charger R/T stands as an enduring symbol of American muscle car history. With its distinctive design, powerful engine options, and thrilling performance, this legendary vehicle has captured the hearts of car enthusiasts for generations. In this article, we’ll take a closer look at the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T, exploring its history, specifications, and the enduring appeal that makes it a true automotive icon.
The Birth of a Legend
The story of the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T begins with its debut during the golden age of American muscle cars. Dodge, a brand known for its commitment to performance, introduced this model to compete with other muscle car giants of its time. The Charger R/T was an instant hit, thanks to its sleek, aerodynamic design and powerful engine options.
Design and Styling
Striking Exterior
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1968 Dodge Charger R/T
One of the most distinctive features of the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T is its unforgettable exterior design. The fastback roofline, hidden headlights, and full-width grille give it an aggressive and unmistakable presence on the road. It was a design ahead of its time, setting trends that would influence future generations of muscle cars.
Luxurious Interior
While the Charger R/T was known for its performance, it didn’t compromise on comfort and luxury. The interior featured high-quality materials, bucket seats, and a driver-oriented cockpit. This combination of style and comfort made it a versatile car, equally suitable for daily driving and spirited weekend getaways.
Heart-Pounding Performance
Engine Options
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1968 Dodge Charger R/T
Under the hood, the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T offered a range of powerful engines. The most iconic choice was the 440 Magnum V8, producing a whopping 375 horsepower. For those seeking even more power, the legendary 426 Hemi V8 was available, delivering an astonishing 425 horsepower. These engines ensured that the Charger R/T lived up to its reputation as a high-performance machine.
Thrilling Performance
With its potent engines and well-tuned suspension, the Charger R/T delivered an exhilarating driving experience. It could accelerate from 0 to 60 mph in under 7 seconds, a remarkable feat for its time. The combination of raw power and precise handling made it a favorite among drag racers and car enthusiasts.
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1968 Dodge Charger R/T
Enduring Popularity
Cultural Impact
The 1968 Dodge Charger R/T wasn’t just a car; it became a cultural icon. Its appearances in movies and television shows, most notably in “Bullitt” and “The Dukes of Hazzard,” cemented its status as a symbol of American automotive excellence. Even today, the Charger R/T continues to inspire filmmakers and car enthusiasts alike.
Collector’s Item
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1968 Dodge Charger R/T
In the world of classic cars, the Charger R/T holds a special place. Its limited production numbers and timeless design have made it a sought-after collector’s item. Restored and well-maintained models can fetch impressive prices at auctions, reflecting the enduring demand for this iconic muscle car.
Conclusion
In conclusion, the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T remains a timeless classic in the world of American muscle cars. Its bold design, powerful engines, and cultural significance have ensured its place in automotive history. Whether you’re a car enthusiast or simply appreciate the beauty of a well-crafted automobile, the Charger R/T is a vehicle that continues to captivate and inspire.
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1968 Dodge Charger R/T
FAQs
Is the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T still in production? No, the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T is not in production today. It is a classic car from the late 1960s.
What is the price range for a well-maintained Charger R/T from 1968? The price of a well-maintained 1968 Dodge Charger R/T can vary widely, but it often falls within the range of $50,000 to $100,000 or more, depending on the model’s condition and rarity.
How fast can the Charger R/T accelerate from 0 to 60 mph? The Charger R/T could accelerate from 0 to 60 mph in under 7 seconds, thanks to its powerful engine options.
What are some notable appearances of the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T in pop culture? The Charger R/T is famous for its appearances in movies like “Bullitt” and “The Dukes of Hazzard,” where it played iconic roles.
Were there any special editions of the 1968 Charger R/T? Yes, Dodge offered special editions and performance packages for the Charger R/T, including the 426 Hemi engine option, which was a favorite among enthusiasts.
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Badge Bunny Meet Ugly
Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader
Badge Bunny AU - This can be read as a stand alone. Read more of their series here.
Summary: You're new to town. It's only supposed to be temporary. A handsome Deputy catches your eye, then seemingly ruins his chances as soon as he opens his mouth. This is not your fairytale.
18+ Only! MDNI!
Word Count: 14.5K
Warnings: Slow burn. Porn, with plot. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Toxic relationship (let's be honest here). Oral (m & f receiving). Choking. Semi-public sex. Degradation. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.
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Telling yourself you needed a fresh start, North Dakota hadn’t been your first choice but it became your last when things seemingly had started spiraling out of your control.
Your car had broken down just inside of Stark County, leaving you stranded in the middle of literal nowhere.
“No, no, no. Please. Come on!” Trying the ignition over and over to no avail. You reached for your phone, thankfully it had a signal, googling the nearest mechanic shop; only showing one in a 20-mile radius.
It’s as if the universe was playing some cruel tricks on you.
The night before, you left the sleazy hotel where you had been staying when you realized someone had taken the last bit of money you had left. Internally cursing yourself for trying to hide it in the toilet tank like a fucking cliche idiot.
It was another 30 minutes before the tow truck and owner of “Frank’s Body Shop” pulled in beside you. An older, gruff looking man with gray hair, a little wiry, sticking up from his head. You suspected you might have woken him when you called.
It was a quiet, awkward drive back to his shop.
Once he’d gotten your car into the bay you’d asked where the nearest motel might be.
“Oh, there’s one about a mile down the road on the right. Can’t miss it.” Frank said without looking up from his paperwork.
“Any chance you could drive me over? I’m new to t….”
“Do I look like a taxi service to you?” He spat. “I already got out of bed to come get ya’.”
“Alright then, at least point me in the right direction?”
“Out the front to the left. Midway Motel. Only one this side of town.” He pointed.
“Yeah, thanks.” You didn’t wait for him to respond as you headed outside. If this was what they considered hospitality in Lehigh, you didn't want to stay here a second longer than what was absolutely necessary.
Your jacket did little to shield you from the blustery cold wind. You wrapped your arms around yourself, heading off in the direction to find somewhere to lay your head for the night, leaving the light of the only streetlamp you could see in the foreseeable distance.
It was dark but the moon was unusually bright, reflecting the glint of the fresh snow fall from earlier in the day.
You hadn't made it very far down the road when you heard a rumble of an engine and headlights cut out ahead of you. You didn't bother looking up, expecting God knows what this hour of night.
The vehicle slowed as it got closer, you held your backpack strap a little tighter to your chest and wrapped your hand around the pocketknife tucked into your jacket, expecting the worst.
You finally turned on your heel to be met with an older model blazer with Stark County Sheriff's Office on the side of the door. Some of the anxiety slipped away but you kept your guard up. You'd never had any good run-ins with cops.
The driver's window slowly rolled down, an older man was behind the wheel, you couldn't make out his features in the low light, but he was wearing a cowboy hat.
“Evening, miss. Little late to be wandering the highway alone. Could be dangerous for a lady such as yourself.” His tone made you feel uneasy.
Great, another smart-ass hick, you thought.
“Evening, Officer…”
“Sheriff Tillman,” he interrupted.
“Right, Sheriff Tillman. My car broke down and I was trying to find the Midway Motel?” It came out to be more of a question than you intended.
“The Midway? It's kind of a rough place, there's a Holiday Inn on the other side of…”
“With all due respect, Sheriff, I'm just looking for somewhere for tonight and I don't exactly have enough cash to be spending it in on something like a Holiday Inn.”
“Fair enough,” he nodded. “Hop in, it's on the way.”
You looked down the highway once more, biting your lip. It was going to be a trek you dreaded, and you were already tired from the events over the last couple of days. You rolled a gravel under your shoe before finally relenting.
“Yeah, okay.” Crossing in front to open the door, removing your backpack and climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks.”
He didn't say anything or look your way as he threw the vehicle back into drive once the door was shut.
You were able to get a better look at the Sheriff. Older, rough around the edges. An air about him that dripped with arrogance.
Sitting beside him didn't make that uneasy feeling any better, only intensifying it. Something felt off.
You were grateful for the warmth the heater provided. Rubbing your hands together in your lap.
“So, what brings you to Lehigh Miss…?” He asked.
“Uh, Y/N, and just passing through. Like I said, my car broke down, so here I am.”
“Y/N,” he said, as he mulled it over. Letting it sit on his tongue. You didn't like the way your name rolled out of his mouth.
He nodded as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. Nothing else said between the two of you in the short drive.
The Midway was, as expected, a dump. Neons lit Vacancy above you, missing a few letters with a sign out front broadcasting, “$129 weekly rates”.
“Well, this is it.” He shifts into park outside the small office, as the older woman behind the counter straightening up in her chair at the sight of the Sheriff's car.
"Well, thank you Sheriff Till…" As you reached for the door.
"Roy. And I know you're new to town, so I thought I'd extend an invitation to our church. You can come and sit with my family so you wouldn't be by yourself. I've got a son that seems about your age.”
"Uh, thanks, Sheriff. But I'm hoping my car will be done in a day or two. I don't plan on staying that long." Sliding out and gathering your bag over your shoulder. "Thanks again for the ride.”
"Anytime. Enjoy your stay,” tipping his hat, as you closed the door.
You could feel his eyes trail after you as you walked into the office before he finally drove away.
The older lady stood, “Uh hi, I just need a room for the night, I hope.”
“Sure honey, we only got a double bed.” She eyed you warily. “You know the Sheriff?”
“Huh?” Barely registering what she had said as you were digging for your wallet.
“Sheriff Tillman? You know him?”
“No. He just offered me a ride…” you trailed off. “Why?”
“Don't trust that man. That whole family is a den of vipers. Son gaining a reputation just as bad. I'd steer clear if I were you.”
“I'll take that into consideration,” you took the key from her. “Thanks.”
The room was just as inviting. Cramped space with a small double bed and a flowery duvet. An older style TV sits in the corner making it feel like the place was stuck in the 90s.
No coffee maker or mini fridge. The small bathroom at least looked clean upon inspection though you weren't sure it could be trusted.
The bed provided little comfort. The mattress was lumpy, and the pillows were flat.
Well, at least it's for one night. You tried to shut your eyes and get some rest.
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“What do you mean, a couple of weeks?” You whined.
“What I just said, I can't get the part right now. Be a couple weeks.” Frank huffed. “I had to order it, so do you want it fixed or not?”
“Of course I want it fixed. Just let me know when it's done.”
Stomping your way out the garage, you shouldn't have expected anything else really. Not with the way your luck had been going.
You’d walked back to the motel, paying another week in advance and asking the lady at the front desk, Maggie, where you might find some decent work as it looked like you might be here for a while longer.
“Pretty girl like you, could always go over to the Tender Trap, you'd be out of this dump in no time,” as she proceeded to tell you the sort of place it was.
“I think I'd prefer to keep my clothes on.”
“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, pulling her cigarette to her lips. Puffs of smoke curled up as she exhaled. “Lucky Lizard across the way might be lookin’ for another waitress. Henry said last week his girl quit.”
“Here,” she pulled out a pad and pen, writing a name and number down for you.
“Thanks Maggie.”
You'd met with Henry the owner and resident bartender that afternoon. You'd been upfront about it only being temporary, but he liked your spunkiness and hired you on the spot.
He tried to warn you what you were getting into with the weekend crowd, but nothing would quite compare to seeing it in person.
Your shift started at 4. It started off easy enough. The early crowd were mostly blue-collared guys, interested in a couple of beers before heading home for the night.
Saturday's host karaoke night. The usual crowd is replaced by the rowdy 20 and 30 somethings of Lehigh looking for a good time when there is nothing else to do in nowhere USA.
Drinks flowing, the crowd loving the various renditions of their favorite songs echoing through the building.
The fight broke out before you realized what was going on.
You hadn't seen the beginning, but you were caught off guard when someone shoved you from behind, knocking the tray you held off balance. Bottles of beer went flying across the floor.
Henry called the Sheriff's department as soon as it got out of control and told you to get behind the bar until they arrived.
He had a shotgun there, pulled it out and told everyone to exit the bar. They eventually did.
“This happen often?” You asked him.
“Not usually,” he gave you a weary half smile.
You were beginning to think bad luck was following you at this point.
It didn't take long for a couple of deputies to walk through the door.
One caught your eye in particular. He waltzed in, dick first, like he owned the place. He rested his hand on the gun that was tucked away in his snug thigh holster, slung tight over his camo pants as your eyes trailed up the rest of his frame.
He was wearing the usual kevlar, adorned with a gold star badge on top of a snug long-sleeved T-shirt. You could tell the way it hugged his arms he was fit.
His head was covered with a hat that read Stark County Sheriff. It was shielding some of your view of his face at this angle, but you could make out his sharp jawline and aquiline nose.
Your eyes drank in every detail that was available as his eyes searched the crowd, turning his head slowly finally landing on you. His deep set, hazel eyes caught yours.
You felt pinned the longer he stared. He gave you a lopsided grin before lifting his hand, tipping his hat toward you. You smiled in return.
Then the moment was over, as he caught Henry's attention and beckoned him over.
You started busying yourself with cleaning up the mess the brawlers had left behind. As soon as they heard the cops were called the stragglers hightailed it out of there, along with a lot of the good paying customers.
With no one to pin it on, the cops weren't going to stay long. Statements and descriptions of the men were all they could get, along with some grainy video footage.
You were cleaning up a high top in the corner when he started to approach. You spotted him from the corner or your eye, because you hadn't stopped watching him since he entered.
Heavy boots made their way closer as you wiped down the sticky tabletop.
He cleared his throat before he spoke, gaining your attention as you were finally able to get a better look at him. He was handsome, clean cut. Not something you were expecting in a small-town Sheriff's department.
“Uh, don't believe we've met. Deputy Tillman, uh Gator.”
So, this was who Maggie had warned you about.
“Gator Tillman, huh? I've heard all about you and your daddy.” You shot back.
He smirked, but his eyebrows knit together with confusion.
“So, how is it you know all about me, but I've never seen you before. And trust me, I'd remember a pretty face like yours.” His eyes trailed slightly downward catching the top of your cleavage before moving back up.
You couldn't contain your eyes from rolling. Men were so easy. All the same. Simple creatures with only one thing on their minds.
You smiled and arched a brow, as his gaze set on your face once more.
“If you don't mind, I've got to get back to work. In case you didn't notice, this place is a mess.” You said, turning back to the table.
“I'm here on official business, need your statement. Miss…?” He paused, grabbing a pen, as if he was actually going to write any of this shit down.
You had him pegged from the moment he walked in here.
“Y/N.”
“Y/N.” He spoke. And as you expected, just stared at you. “You're not from around here, are ya’?”
“Nope and don't plan on sticking around either.”
“Yeah, Henry said you're over at the Midway? That place is rough, ya’ could…”
“Yeah, yeah I've already heard. You Tillmans have a savior complex or something?” you huffed out.
“Scuse me?” He furrowed his brows.
“Look, I don't need some hot shot, knight in shining kevlar to save me. I'm not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself.” You looked him straight in the eye, not backing down.
“You're cute, y’know that?” he smiled, and let out a small humorless chuckle.
You watched as he produced a vape from his pocket, placing it between his pouty lips before sucking, as his cheeks hollowed just a bit. The fruity scented cloud billowed out, as he blew it hitting you square in the face.
“Seriously?” You coughed, hand waving it quickly away.
“Sorry,” he smirked again, not meaning his apology in the slightest.
“Sorry? For blowing that rancid shit right in my face? Your mama never teach you any fucking manners?” You huffed, grabbing the towel off the table and quickly walking away leaving him to stare after you.
He took another hit from his vape, letting his eyes trail your curves, watching the way your hips swayed with each step before he was knocked from his trance.
“Gator,” Andy, the other deputy, caught his attention. “Let's go.”
He nodded and bid Henry a goodbye.
He was intrigued. He could usually bat his eyes, puff his chest out a little and any girl would fall over him. Not you.
You were a little spitfire who didn't back down. He kind of liked it.
Gator was never the kind to chase tail, it fell in his lap with ease. You were different and something in the back of his mind wanted to see how far he had to push to see you give in.
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You'd all but forgotten about Deputy Tillman in the following days. However, he couldn't seem to get you off his mind.
The way you had spoken so blatantly like you didn't care who he was, or what kind of weight the Tillman name carried in this county. He couldn't deny the way it kind of turned him on. Every other girl in this town was either scared of him or immediately fell at his feet.
You were different, not to mention easy on the eyes with curves that seemed to go for days easily getting any man to eat out of the palm of your hand.
He pulled into the bar, telling himself he was just doing a routine check, on the lookout for drunks.
Deep down, he wanted to catch another glimpse to see if you were truly as pretty as he remembers. Maybe he could sweet talk you into a night of fun. Let him take you back to that trashy motel and have his way with you.
He settled back into the seat, checking the time on his watch, a quarter past 2 AM. The bar had just closed for the night, so he suspected you’d be in until at least another 30 minutes tidying up the place and kicking out the stragglers.
He pulled his phone out playing Candy Crush to pass the time. Placing his vape between his lips every few minutes, getting a little more anxious with each passing second.
He jumped at the sound of someone banging on his window, dropping his vape and almost doing the same with his phone.
He looked over to see you standing there, arms crossed giving him a glare that would rival the devil himself.
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It had been a long day. You were about to head back to the Midway after picking up a double shift. You headed out the back, surveying the lot.
The first thing you noticed is a black truck parked off to itself. You grumbled as soon as you saw the Stark County Sheriff logo on the side.
Instead of making the trek back to the motel, you decided to have a little fun, suspecting immediately who it might be.
Your boots stomped their way over to the driver's side door as you placed your hands on your hips. He made no attempt to roll the window down. You could see the glow of that stupid vape lit within. You wanted to yank it out of his mouth.
Growing more impatient by the second, you finally gave in using your fist to bang on the window.
You realized he hadn’t even noticed you walk up when his vape went flying out of his hand. You held in your laugh. Instead opting to hold a stern gaze, forcing your lips together and crossing your arms over your chest.
The window finally rolled down as he came into view. He wasn’t wearing a hat like the last time you’d seen him. His hair was slicked back, shorter on the sides revealing his face even more to you. Damnit, he was handsome.
“What the fuck is your problem?” He spat. Oh, this is going to be fun, you thought.
“Deputy Tillman, is that any way to speak to a lady?” You purred. “And what the hell are you doing out here? Besides looking like a creep?”
He scoffed, “My job. What the fuck does it look like?”
“Your job? You skulk around bars for your job?” You smirked. Each insult slowly getting under his skin.
“I'm watching for drunks. But I don't have to explain myself to you.” He sounded like a child. You couldn't tell in the low light but were sure his face was reddened from how strained his voice sounds.
“Right, well, good night Deputy.” You turned away from him, smirking as you went. His eyes trailing after you.
“Hey, Y/N,” he called. “Need a lift?”
“No thanks! You just stay here and watch for those drunks.” Yelling back and laughing out, the sound traveling across the parking lot back to his ears.
He shook his head and watched you go.
“Shit,” he hissed out, his head dropping back onto the headrest with a thud. Why'd he have to open his big mouth like that?
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The following week he seemed to be everywhere.
He was at the gas station as you paid for your soda and nachos, trying to take a break from the motel when the walls felt like they were closing in around you.
A couple of days later, he was at the diner grabbing lunch as you were just finishing yours. He stared at you from over the top of the menu as you left some cash on the table and headed out. If he was trying to be discreet about it, he was failing miserably.
The next day, you bumped into him at the grocery store a couple of blocks away from where you were staying.
You turned the corner with your small cart, bumping into someone.
“Oh, I am so sor…” the words died as soon as you looked up to see him standing there. He grinned, pulling a box of cereal from the shelf and putting it into his own cart.
He looked good. Camo thermal under a black leather jacket with matching black cargo pants; thigh holster in place. His hair was slicked back just like you had seen it in the prior days.
You cocked a brow, “Deputy Tillman, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me.”
“Stalking you? Maybe it's the other way ‘round. Huh, sweet thing?” He moved to lean his elbow on the shelf as he looked you over, missing the edge by only a few centimeters.
He slipped, correcting himself almost immediately, straightening back up and throwing the shelf an accusatory look.
“Woah there, big fella.” You snorted. “You okay there?”
“Fine,” he sniffed, looking down his nose at you once he was back at his full height.
“What are you doing on this side of town anyway? Isn't there a nicer grocery store you could shop at?”
“Well, yeah but I like this one.” Shrugging a shoulder as he spoke.
You eye him suspiciously. So, he did choose to come here. You knew there was another store on the other side of town. It was bigger and newer with all the bells and whistles.
As if he was reading your mind he quickly tacked on, “it's more quiet here. Less crowded.”
You nodded. Slowly moving your cart to finally skirt around him.
“Well, Deputy, enjoy your shopping trip.” Moving past him.
“Hey y/n, how about you let me take you out sometime?” He blurted out before you got too far out of earshot.
“Out?” You turned back around. “Like a date?”
“I mean,” he stepped closer, leaning his elbow on the shelf successfully this time, as he lowered his voice to barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, we can call it a date. I was thinkin’ more along the lines of grabbing a bite to eat then you could invite me back to your room…” his eyes slowly trailed down your body as he spoke.
“How romantic.” You batted your lashes up at him before huffing a laugh. “I guess I should be flattered you actually offered dinner first.”
“So?” He cocked his head expectantly, completely ignoring the words that had just come out of your mouth.
“So, no. I told you I'm not sticking around.”
“Who said it had to be serious? I'm just talkin’ about gettin’ some ass s’all. Havin’ some fun while you're stuck here.” His lips curled up. Maybe he expected you to be taken aback by his bluntness, but you weren't. It just spurred you further.
“Oh, is that all? And how do you know I'm not getting’ dicked down on the daily by someone else? Hmmm?” You smirked when his eyes grew darker. Did you just make him mad? Jealous?
“Oh, sweet thing, I don't believe that for a second.” He chuckled. The air between you seemed to grow a little tense as he shifted on his feet a little.
He stepped a little closer, trying to close the gap between you.
“If that were true, you wouldn't be walkin' ‘round here with that stick up your ass.” He paused, looking you straight in the eye, “I think what ya’ need is someone to fuck this bratty attitude right out of ya’.”
You inched forward, letting your fingers graze his chest as you let them tip toe up.
“And you think you're just the man for the job?”
“Sure am.” He grinned, cocky, thinking he had you.
Your fingers moved up, up until you moved them away, only to boop his nose before completely pulling away and taking a step back.
“You're cute, you know that?” Using his own words that he'd thrown at you that night at the bar.
His mouth hung open slightly, as you turned to leave him there.
“Have a good night, Deputy.”
You faintly heard a “fuck” being muttered as you made your way over to the next aisle.
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Two weeks.
Two weeks since your car broke down. Two weeks you’d been sleeping in a roach infested dump. Two weeks of sitting in said dump staring at the same four walls. Two weeks of reluctantly being the newest resident of Stark County.
Frank gave you another half-assed excuse as to why your damn car wasn’t finished this morning. You didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or blowing smoke up your ass for the hell of it. Either way, you were about to tear your hair out.
You volunteered for another double shift just to take your mind off of everything, telling Henry all of your woes for the 100th time, but he listened with a sympathetic ear as usual.
“Hey, not to pile anything on you, but do you think you could close up by yourself tonight? I’ve got to head out early.” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t get your panties even more twisted.
“I don’t mind. It’s not like anything is going on.” You held up your hands, looking around the desolate space. “And I would like to avoid going back to the room for as long as possible.” You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of sleeping there another night, though you knew it was inevitable.
He finished up what he was doing and slipped out the back.
It wasn’t unusual to be dead through the week, but this was almost unbearable. The last customer left about 30 minutes before Henry, leaving you alone with your thoughts weighing heavily once more.
It was currently a little past midnight, which meant you had two more hours before clocking out.
Most of the closing duties were done, now it was just you against the clock, hoping no one decided to stumble in here tonight keeping you any longer.
Your back was to the door, wiping down some newly washed glasses. As you put away another on the shelf, the front door flew open, startling you. When you jolted, you nearly dropped the glass but regained your composure.
Heavy footsteps were coming toward the bar as you turned around.
Shocked to see none other than Gator Tillman sliding into the stool directly in front of you. He looked disheveled. His usually perfectly slick hair mussed to the point it was falling in and around his face.
“Gator?” You asked hesitantly.
His eyes darted up to you, big and glossy, a little blood shot at the edges. His cheeks were flushed. Had he already been drinking before he got here?
“Oh, so you do know my name?” He huffed out. “And here I thought I was just Deputy Tillman.” It came out a little slurred.
His usual cheeky demeanor was gone. Replaced with this sarcastic asshole before you now; not an ounce of playfulness to be found. He seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Are you okay?” It seemed dumb to ask, but you couldn't help yourself.
“I'm fine Y/N. Just came here to blow off a little stream, s’all. Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head over.”
“Um sure… Gator, have you been drinking?”
He laughed out loud, lips curling into an unnatural smile. “I might’ve had a few. Might’ve run out. S’why I'm here, I need some more.”
“No, I think you need a cheeseburger and some water.” Placing a glass before him, sliding it into his view since he was staring at the bar top instead of you.
“Give me a Jack. No ice.” He said, without looking up.
“No. I'm not serving you.” Standing your ground could end up with a very pissed off Gator but at least your conscience would be clear. You were already thinking of how you could get his keys.
“Where's Henry? He'll give me what I ask for with no lip.” Finally cutting his eyes up. They were dark and intense. That usual flicker of light within now dim as if the alcohol had taken every semblance of the guy you’ve come to know.
“Not here. It's only me and I'm not serving you whiskey. I'll go make you a burger. Drink that damn water.”
He stared at the glass before him as if it would somehow magically turn into the Jack he'd asked for. Reluctantly, he finally picked it up and raised it to his lips, chugging the contents down within a few seconds.
He dropped it back to the bar top with a thud, still gripped in his hand.
“There, now give me a damn whiskey.”
“Gator, for the last time I'm not fucking serving you whiskey.” You had an idea. Your eyes flickered with delight at the prospect. And if he would cooperate, you'd both get what you needed.
He made to get up, staggering just a little, taking his keys from his pocket. This was your chance.
He looked away for a split second, he held his keys in his fist as he stood once more and turned slightly toward the door.
There was a key ring your fingers grabbed onto and firmly wanked them from his grasp.
He realized too late what was happening. His movements are slower than normal, trying but failing to reach back out for them.
“What the fuck. Give ‘em back.” He held out his hand expectantly.
“Hell no. You aren't going anywhere like this. You trying to kill yourself?” You raised your voice.
There was some look that passed over his features you couldn't quite read. He looked defeated at this moment.
“Look, just sit down. I'll make us both some burgers. We can, uh, have that meal you asked me to.”
That seemed to pique his interest, as his eyebrows edged upward. He nodded slightly and planted his ass back down on the stool as you breathed a small sigh of relief.
“Ok, just stay there. I'm going to lock the door and I'll make you the best damn burger you've ever had.” He didn't respond but you put another glass of water on the bar. “And drink that. I'll be back.”
You left him to it, locking the front door and clicking off the neon “Open” sign. You were sure no one would bother coming by this late and if Henry found out you'd just tell him the truth.
Henry usually cooked but had taught you the ins and outs of the kitchen as well. As the patties cooked on the grill top, you checked through the swinging door to make sure he was still there.
You panicked just a bit when he wasn't at the bar, but he had just moved across the room to one of the booths instead. And much to your surprise had brought the water with him. He wasn't thinking clearly but at least he could still follow directions.
You placed the plate in front of him as his eyes lit up.
“Don't say I never did anything nice for you.” You laughed and took the seat across from him.
He immediately started shoveling fries into his mouth. He wasn't much for manners, but you didn't fault him. He was eating like a man starved.
He hummed around the first bite of his burger as you smiled. You ate in silence, hoping a decent meal would sober him up for what you were about to suggest.
He finished his meal, wiping his mouth with his exposed sleeve and chugged the remaining water.
“Thanks, I need that.” He mumbled.
“Feel better?” You genuinely asked.
“Mmhmm… yeah actually. I uh…” he started.
“Nope, let's not do this ok. Don't start a sappy apology. I uh… may have had some ulterior motives here anyway.” You grinned as he finally lifted his head, furrowing his brows as his lips were set in a slight pout as if he were trying to decipher what you had just said.
“What? What are you…”
“I'm saying that I got you sober enough that at least I'm not taking advantage of you. I'd like to take you up on your offer.”
The realization hit, as he silently replied, “oh.”
He sat quietly for another moment.
“No. I don't need a goddamn pity fuck.”
You were taken aback by his brashness. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.
“I wasn't trying to give you a pity fuck you jackass. It just seemed like we could both use a distraction. But if you're not interested, never mind.” You started to ease out of the booth.
“Wait, wait.” He grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. His touch setting your skin ablaze.
He looked up at you with pleading, puppy dog eyes that pulled at your chest.
“Look, I am a jackass, ok. But I am interested. You've made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with me. Why the sudden change of heart?”
“What does it matter? We're both obviously dealing with some shit… like I said we could use a distraction.” You shrugged, pulling free from his grasp. Taking both of your plates as you slid from the seat.
He watched you disappear into the back of the bar.
Ok, she's giving me a chance. Don't fuck this up. I'm a winner. Come on. He tried to pump himself up.
It took a few minutes to wash up the dishes and put them away. Emerging from the back, he was still sitting in the booth.
“Listen,” you spoke up. “I've got a few more things to do before I can head out. You wanna just meet me at my room in about an hour?”
He stood, no stagger this time and in a few large strides he crossed the room stopping directly in front of you.
He took you by surprise, grabbing your hips, pulling you completely flush to his.
You let out a little squeak that his lips quickly cut off when they met yours.
He wasn't gentle, fingertips digging in where they met you through your shirt. You didn't need or want gentle. He was doing exactly what you hoped he would.
His lips were slightly chapped but glided against your cherry glossed ones with ease. You wrapped one hand around the base of his neck, nails raking through his hair as your other finds his bicep.
He was guiding you, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, skirting upwards, uncovering the supple flesh beneath.
His touch sent goosebumps across your bare skin. It was then his tongue danced along your bottom lip, begging for entry.
Your lips parted, his tongue immediately finding the opening, moving against yours so naturally.
You suddenly needed more, pulling him even closer, easing yourself upward to meet him on the tips of your toes.
It was suddenly a clash of teeth and tongue. Your hand glided from his bicep to his waist pulling him in.
He broke your kiss with a groan. It gave you both a moment to catch your breath. Pants being shared between you.
You took the opportunity, running your hand lower, palming his now very prominent bulge. You were surprised he was actually backing that cocky attitude.
“Fuck,” he hissed out, breath fanning your cheek.
“You're getting ahead of yourself big boy. I still need to close up.” You nipped at his neck, inching yourself backward.
“No, let me make you feel good. Let me taste you. Fuck, I need to taste you.” His voice raspy, whiny with need.
His words went straight to your core. Not sure what you were expecting, but him offering to go down on you wasn't one of them. Gator seemed very selfish, not someone who would so willingly give.
“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Willing yourself to answer as you nodded. But then it hit you. Where the fuck would you go in here?
As if he already knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand leading you over to the pool table.
He let go to shed his jacket into the nearest booth, as you slid up onto the felt lining, easing your ass over the lip.
You'd worn a skirt today, now thanking yourself for the easy access, as you spread your thighs to accommodate his frame.
He turned back to you. Eyes trailing up. You were like prey caught by the big, bad wolf as he licks his lips ready to devour you.
You leaned back, spreading your legs a little further, skirt rucking up, soaked panties on display.
He came to slot himself between your thighs, pulling your hips toward the edge to meet his hard cock coming to rest against your clothed core.
You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself as you gasped out.
“What's wrong, sweet thing?” He smirked, as he brought his hand up to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair tugging the roots making you meet his gaze.
“I…” smug bastard had the audacity to roll his hips when you tried to speak, nudging your clit slightly, pulling a small moan from you.
“Yeah, that's it. Let me hear those pretty sounds, yeah?”
This wasn't you. Letting a man reduce you to putty in his hands. You decided to throw him off, taking your legs and locking them firmly around his waist, and rolling your hips into his.
“Look at you, like a little whore in heat.” He lowered his head, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “I fucking knew you wanted me.”
You gasped out again when he brought his broad palms against your thighs pushing them back against the table. His thumbs rubbing higher, up under the fabric of your skirt making you shudder.
He pulled back slightly to look down at you.
“Now, be a good girl and sit still f’me.”
His fingertips traveled up, hooking into the fabric so he could pull them down, lifting your ass so he could remove them.
Once he had you bare, he tucked them into his pocket for safe keeping.
His eyes darkened, breath hitching slightly once he caught sight of your bare cunt.
You were positively soaked, glistening before him.
Feeling a little brazen, you spoke up “Are you going to put your money where your mouth is or just stare at me all night like you've never seen a pussy before? ” Wiggling your ass closer to the edge as you spoke.
He didn't respond, you watched as he licked at his bottom lip and began lowering himself to the floor. Once he knelt in front of you, face to face with you, he finally spoke.
“Look at that sweet little pussy, already drooling f’me.” He slid his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge, closer to his waiting mouth.
He pushed your left thigh up over his shoulder, scooting closer still, using his arm to force your other leg further open to accommodate him. His hand delicately moves your skirt further up your hips giving him full access.
You jolt when he lightly runs a fingertip up your slit. Not enough to penetrate but shooting embers through your core.
“I bet she tastes so good, huh?” Placing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another and another. Working his way toward where you needed him most.
“Please…” it's as if the word left on its own accord as it hung in the air between you. It was so breathy you'd hoped he'd mistake it for another moan.
“What's that sweet thing?” No such luck.
You look down at him, he's grinning over your mound with this mischievous glint to his eyes. You know what he's about to say before it even tumbles from his lips.
“Please what baby?”
You roll your eyes letting your head thump back against the tabletop.
“Please Gator, quit teasing. I ne… want you to fuck me.” You quickly huffed out.
He chuckled lightly, letting his finger and thumb part your lips, while his breath fanned over your sticky folds.
He hummed as he looked down, catching a glance once more before he brought his tongue down. Flattening it against your core, licking a fat stripe from your leaking entrance as he let the tip finally catch your clit.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned out. Relief. It flooded through your veins and much as it ignited you further.
He didn't stop, moving his tongue down and back up to expertly swirl it against your puffy clit.
Your back arched, pushing your pussy further into his face. His eyes flicked up to you, relishing the way he was already making you come undone.
He moved his hand from around your ass to wrap it around your leg, making sure you couldn't squirm away as his lips came to wrap around your bundle of nerves. Sucking harshly, then soothing it again with a soft lick.
You fisted your hands at your sides, fighting the urge to run your fingers through his hair.
You felt his thick finger tease your entrance as his lips remained sealed to you.
“Mmmm… yes, please. I need more.” You tried to grind your hips, but he had you firmly pinned.
He slowly inserted his finger, pushing into your velvety walls with ease, as another wanton moan left your lips.
He pulled out, only to insert a second upon re-entry. His fingers alone were filling you up in such a way your own never could.
Your cunt pulsed around him, as he hummed into you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.
It had been a long time since you'd been touched by anyone but yourself and your orgasm was creeping up at an embarrassingly fast rate.
He curved his digits upward with every drag, as he was hit that sweet, spongy spot within you. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.
“Gator don't stop. Right there!” He was happy to oblige, keeping his current pace but applied more pressure to your clit, working his tongue back and forth.
Your hands finally found purchase, tugging at his hair. He hummed again, filing that mental note away for later.
“It feels so good, don't… mmmm… don't fucking stop!”
Those embers were fully formed flames, licking up your spine, igniting every nerve within your core.
The pressure kept building, as you were teetering along the edge, ready to let go.
Your orgasm hit with blinding force, your legs began to shake around him as sparks soared behind your eyes, with a cry of his name he worked you through your high.
He unattached his lips, “that's it sweet thing, cum on my fingers. Yeah, you look so goddamn pretty like this, and I haven't even fucked you yet.”
Your cunt clenched around him once more with his words, as you tried to pull away from him, starting to feel oversensitive. He pulled his fingers from you, only to wrap his lips around them sucking them clean of any remnants of your arousal.
“Mmmm… so fucking sweet. I knew you'd taste good.”
He watches the way your chest is still heaving, trying to catch your breath. He takes the opportunity to raise himself up, pushing himself back between your thighs.
His cock is fucking aching and rock hard. He'd fuck you right here and now if you'd let him.
He leans slightly back over you, his cock nudging your cunt, as you whimper and finally open your eyes in time to see his shit eating grin, as he wipes the rest of your arousal from his face with the back of his hand.
“You good?” He finally asks.
There was something in his eyes that told you that you were in for a long night.
You nod pathetically, as you attempt to sit up, but your bones feel like jello.
He closes the distance, caging you in, hands splayed out on either side of you, as he speaks close to your ear, breath fanning your cheek.
“Yeah? You want me t’bend you over right here or are we going back t’your room? Your choice sweet thing, but either way I'm fuckin’ ya’ now.”
He pulls back slightly to gauge your response. You look up at him, soft doe eyes and pouty kiss-bitten lips. He's fucked. He knows it right then and there.
“Fuck, Gator. We can't fuck here. Let me grab my purse.” You push at his chest to give you some space.
He takes a few steps back, as you hop down from the pool table on wobbly legs and straighten your skirt back down.
“You aren't closin’ up?” He chuckled.
“Fuck it,” waving your hand dismissively as you walk to the back. “I work morning shift; I'll do it then.”
You quickly gathered your belongings, throwing your coat over your shoulders, shutting off the lights as you head back up front. You knew you'd be kicking yourself in the few hours you'd have to be back in for your shift but at this moment you couldn't find it within yourself to care.
You shot through the double doors, as his hands reached out and grabbed you from behind, pulling you in as he nuzzled his face into your neck.
“I can't keep my hands off of you. You're so fuckin’ hot.”
You giggle, feeling like a horny teen. It was new, exciting and as you reminded yourself just for tonight.
“Gator, come on. Let's go.” He grabbed a handful of your ass before reluctantly letting you go.
He followed you closely out the door, as you turned to lock up, he stayed there, head on a swivel, surveying the parking lot void of any life this time of night.
“Okay.” You said, pushing your hands into your pockets, suddenly realizing you still had his keys.
“Oh shit, here.” You dug them out from your purse and handed them over.
“Thanks, sweet thing, come on.” He went ahead of you and jumped into the driver's seat, turning the ignition just as quickly. You pulled yourself up, taking the opportunity to scoot right in next to him, thigh pressed tightly into his.
He stiffens as you place your hand high on his thigh, sliding it slowly, close to where his cock rests, still straining against his confines just begging to be released.
At the same time, you press your face close to his jaw, placing small kisses up, nibbling his ear lobe. You continued sliding your hand further up, finally rubbing him through his pants, causing his breath to hitch.
“Fuck, ok, ok. Let me just get us across the road.”
You giggled out, as you sat back in the seat. He seemed just as eager as you were.
“Ok big boy, let's go.”
The Midway was almost directly across the road from the Lucky Lizard, making it a quick trip.
“Which room is it?” He asked, eyes cutting to you for a moment.
“203, just up there.” Pointing in the general direction, as he slowed when he got close.
“I'll let you out, I've got to park ‘round back.” He stopped directly in front of the door.
“Yeah, sure.” You understood but it didn't hurt any less. You knew it was a dump, home to more than a couple of drug addicts but you also knew his job. It would be an embarrassment to be seen here.
You let it roll off you, as you swung the door open and stepped inside. It gave you a few minutes to freshen up and spritz a little perfume to your pulse points, as he knocked on the door.
You crossed the small space, opening the door wide, bidding him in quickly.
“I know it's not much,” you began.
“S’fine.” He said, looking around the desolate space. The only hint that you lived here was the large suitcase in the corner overflowing with your clothes and shoes.
He let his jacket fall from his shoulders, placing it on top of the dresser, toeing his boots off there as well. You had already removed your outerwear leaving you in your skirt and short sleeved shirt you'd worn all day.
He didn't look your way as he sat on the end of the bed, letting out a large sigh as the springs groaned under his weight.
For a moment he seemed distracted, with this faraway look in his eye that had you second guessing yourself, as his hand scrubbed down the side of his face.
As if he felt the weight of your stare, he looked up, “C’mere sweet thing,” patting his thighs. In normal circumstances something like that would piss you off but at this point you'd let it slide.
You crossed the small distance between you. As soon as you were close enough, he grabbed your hips once more, but you were ready this time as you steadied yourself.
Your fingertips hooked under his chin lifting lightly so he would have to look at you. His eyes were half lidded, from lust or the late hour you weren't sure, but his gaze was soft, pupils blown wide.
“Hey handsome, how about I return the favor?” You purred, as his hand roamed the expanse of your thighs, finding your ass and pulling you further into him.
You trailed a fingertip across his jaw, nail catching on stubble that was trying to form as you watched his Adam's apple bob.
Trailing it lower, down his broad chest as you began to sink to the floor between his thighs, knees pressing into the rough carpeting.
Your hands came to rest in either of his thighs, as he eagerly undid his belt and unsnapped the button of his pants. That's when you stopped him.
“Let me,” your voice was sticky sweet, as you batted his hands away, replacing them with your own, taking the zipper and slowly lowering it.
You palmed at his still clothed erection, eliciting a soft hiss from him.
He groaned, as your fingers trailed to his waistband, he aided you by lifting his hips letting you pull his pants and boxers down his hairy thighs.
His cock sprang free, the head landing just at his navel. You knew he was big, but you hadn't expected this much. You were staring at a goddamn python.
He was long, but also thick. His fat mushroom tip was flushed, a prominent vein travels down the underside of his shaft. The thought of him between your legs made your thighs involuntary clench.
“Fuck,” it was just a whisper, but he still heard it as he smirked.
“What's the matter, sweet thing? Never seen a cock before?” That teasing tone was back but you rolled your eyes in response, wrapping your hand around as much of his base that you could.
You angled him more toward you, leaning down spitting on the tip, as his hips bucked up slightly.
“Fuck, you're a dirty girl.” He grunted, the women he usually fucks were all to timid to take charge or even offer a blow job.
You ran your hand up his length, reaching the top, smearing the mixture of your saliva and his precum expertly. Taking the time to run your thumb across his slit and ruddy head at an agonizingly slow pace before finally stroking back down, as you began pumping lightly.
His breath hitched as he watched you, you were focused solely on him and the task at hand.
You brought your mouth closer, lips sticky with newly reapplied gloss as you placed a soft kiss to the tip, before flicking your tongue to the same spot. Getting the response you were after when you heard him whimper.
You grinned against him, ready to destroy this man.
You wrapped your lips around him, sucking lightly before flattening your tongue, taking as much of him as your mouth and throat would allow.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned out, as if you’d taken him by surprise. His face screwed up with pleasure as he closed his eyes. You wondered if it had been a while since he'd felt a woman's soft touch, so used to his calloused hands providing his own relief.
As the salty tang of him hit your tongue you moaned around him. The vibrations made him shudder, relaxing your throat to take him further as you continued to stroke his length.
You began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks applying more pressure to his member.
“Goddamn sweet thing,” he breathed out, daring to glance down. You were a vision with his dick between your lips. When you looked up at him there were unshed tears along your lash line. It was enough to make him cum right then and there.
It was then you decided to pick up your pace, seeing his fucked-out expression spurred you on.
“Fuck,” he hissed out, gripping the back of your hair, tugging you back until you pulled off with a wet pop.
“You keep doing that, I'm gonna cum. I need to fuck you.” You nodded, as those words went straight to your core, pussy clenching around nothing.
“You uh, you got a condom? I didn't really come prepared.”
“Gator, I just had my mouth around your cock, if I was worried about that I wouldn't have gone down on you. I'm on birth control.” You shrugged.
“Fuck, yeah ok.” He nodded.
You quickly rose to your feet, slotting your thighs on either side of his, sinking down as his cock met your bare cunt, gliding easily through your folds bumping your clit on the way.
You moaned out in unison, as he found the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. His lips immediately finding the tender flesh of your neck, just below your jaw sucking a small bruise there before soothing it with his tongue.
His hands palm your tits through your bra, before quickly finding the clasp at the back. He's undoing it with expertise, as the straps begin to slide down your shoulders.
He wastes no time, he pushes the cups down as his large palms engulf your breasts. His calloused hands are a little rough against your nipples, causing another moan to escape you.
You pull away slightly to capture his lips into a heated kiss. He wraps his arms around you, only to lift you off the bed with him, moving to lay you onto your back.
You let out a small squeak of surprise but he's immediately back between your thighs, gliding his cock between through your soaked folds.
“Mmmm… Gator, please don't tease me anymore.” You huffed out.
He chuckled lightly in response, but sat up to remove his shirt, kicking his pants the rest of the way off his legs. You followed his lead, lifting your hips and sliding your skirt down your plush thighs.
“Fuck, look at you.” He said, lowering himself back down.
He brought two fingers up to your lips, as he barked out “open.” Sliding them in, letting them close around his large digits and letting your tongue swirl against the rough pads.
“Good girl,” he brought them straight to your aching clit, rubbing tight circles against you.
“Mmmm… fuck.” You moaned out, keening into his touch.
He bent down, laving his tongue between your breasts. His mouth was hot, as he sucked your hardened bud between his lips. Your hands flew to his hair, pushing it back from his face tugging harshly at the roots.
He didn't let up, as he moved off your clit to pinch the other between his thumb and finger.
The sensation has you crying out. You weren't in the mood for any more teasing. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable.
You were surprised at his patience this far. Half expecting him to start railing you as soon as he entered the room.
You pulled his face up to yours, giving him no choice but to crawl up your body, meeting you lips once more. You firmly locked your legs around his waist and rolled your hips.
You swallowed each other's moans, as you repeated the motion, his tip catching your clit at just the right angle.
“No more teasing. Let's see if you know how to use that thing or if that cocky attitude is all you have.” Wiggling your hips against him as you spoke.
His eyes darkened, as he looked up at you as if it ignited something within him.
“I know how to use it, just wonderin’ if that tight pussy can handle it.” He reached between you, lining himself up with your entrance as you spread your legs further apart.
His fat tip breaches, as he pushes in slightly with a groan.
“Oh fuck,” throwing your head back, already feeling the stretch.
“Fuck, you are tight,” he hisses, watching himself as he sinks a little deeper.
Your brow starts to scrunch, closing your eyes as your mouth goes slack, a silent moan trying to escape but it feels caught in your throat.
He starts to move again, inch by inch, he slowly splits you open. You're trying not to think about the smug look he's surely got on his face. If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen he was just as fucked out as you were.
Your nails dig crescents where they rest, fingers gripping his shoulders tighter the deeper he goes.
He finally pushes to the hilt, as you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, coming out as a whimper.
He looks down at you then, the almost pained expression on your face pulls him out of his own stuper.
“Hey, you ok?” The softness of his tone grabbed your attention the most. You looked back up to see his eyes worrying over your features.
You nodded, “mhmm… I just need a minute. It's been a while and, not to inflate your already huge ego, but you're not exactly average.”
His lips curled up into that crooked smile like the first time you'd seen him at the bar. It genuinely made you smile back.
The pinch slowly started to subside, as you asked him to move.
He slowly pulled back, almost removing himself completely, immediately sinking back in. He was taking his time, not at all what you expected. You’d wanted rough, for him to fuck your goddamn brains out.
“Gator, I need more. Harder.” Your heels pressed into his ass to get your point across.
“You sure?”
“Yes, goddamnit! Fuck me!”
He shoved himself back, pulling out of you completely.
“What are you…?”
“Y’want it rough, flip over. Ass up.” When you didn't immediately move, he added “c’mon sweet thing. Up.”
You did as you were told, rolling over and arching your ass up. You looked over your shoulder, as he grabbed onto your hip lining himself up with your dripping entrance.
“You asked for it, whore.” He breathed out as he pushed back in hard enough to punch the air from your lungs.
He wasn't soft this time, didn't bother to ask if you were okay.
You whined out with each pump, as he started to set a brutal pace. He began to pull your hips back in time to meet each thrust.
“That it, huh? This what y’wanted?”
You didn't answer, nodding as best you could with your cheek pressed into the mattress.
His hand came down hard across your ass cheek that sent you lurching forward.
“I asked you a question. This what y'wanted? Huh?”
“Yeah, yes. It's… it's what I… mmmm… wanted.” Panting out as he continued to rail you.
He leaned over, reaching his arm under your chest placing his hand around your throat. Squeezing lightly, as if he were testing the waters.
When your pussy fluttered and another moan fell from your lips when he applied more pressure it gave him all the go ahead he needed.
He hauled you up with him; your back pressed tightly to his sweaty chest with his hand still wrapped around your throat as you gripped his wrist and forearm.
He slowed his motions, only to put his lips close to your ear, “You know what they call whores who like to fuck cops? They're badge bunnies. Y’wanna be my little bunny since y’like bouncing on this cock?”
“Fuck, Gator.” You wailed out.
“I'll take that as a yes.”
He releases your neck, letting you fall forward against the mattress, holding your hip with one hand as he brings the other up between your legs as he quickly finds your clit.
You grip the sheets, as he begins rubbing harsh circles there, his length continuously stimulating that sweet spot within you with every drag against your velvety walls. It had you clenching around him as that coil within you tightened.
“You close bunny?” A little bunny, trapped by the big bad wolf. Ensnared. Nowhere to run.
“Ughhh, fuck, yeah.” All coherent thoughts pushed from your mind.
He was working you toward the edge, tighter and tighter your lower belly wound.
“Please, don't stop! Don't stop!”
He didn't let up, working your clit with the same, unrelenting pace as his cock split you open again and again in the best possible way.
“I'm not sweet thing. Can I… fuck… can I cum in this pussy?” He grunted out, trying to stave off his own. He wanted to feel you cum around his cock.
“Yes! Cum in me!”
“Fuck, I need you to cum all over my dick. C’mon baby. Need to feel you. Give it to me.”
His words only encouraged your orgasm, that coil wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.
You came with a shout of his name followed by “oh God, oh God, oh God” as those fireworks flew behind your eyes. It was the best orgasm anyone had ever given you. You were fucking ruined.
He continued to work you through it until you whimpered into the sheets below.
He grabbed your hips with both hands, surely to leave bruises in their wake, pulling you back to meet his punishing thrusts.
Your senses were overwhelmed and your pussy was starting to ache from overuse.
“Gator, please…” you weren't sure what you were begging for.
“Yeah, Bunny? Yeah? I'm gonna fuckin’ ruin this pussy for anyone else. Gonna be all mine from now on.” He started blabbering.
His hips stuttered, thrusts becoming a little erratic, as he started to spill inside of you. He pulled your hips flush to his, as he painted your walls with his thick ropes of cum.
“Fuckfuckfuck… that's it, that's fuckin' it.”
He stilled leaning over your back, as your legs began to give out, releasing the grip on you as he finally pulled out.
He rolled off of you, lying there beside you as you both caught your breath.
“Care if I take a nap here? I'm up in a few hours back on patrol. Don't feel like drivin’ all the way across town.”
It caught you off guard. You hadn't actually had someone sleep beside you after sex in years, but it was just one night. He'd most likely be gone before the sunrise.
“Uh, sure. I'm going to shower.” Getting up without turning back to him, you heard him mumble something under his breath as he made himself more comfortable throwing the covers over his waist.
You showered quickly just to scrub the day from yourself. The hot water heater didn't last more than 10 minutes in this damn place.
When you were finished, Gator was laying on his stomach. Arms stretched under his pillows, hair strewn in his face as soft snores escaped him.
Your eyes drank him in. Curves and plains of his strong back, moles and freckles scattered like a constellation. The sheet just barely covers his ass. You softly roll your eyes when you notice his boxers on the floor by the bed.
Your gaze flicked up, noticing a tattoo on his bicep. Snorting to yourself when you realized what it was. It was hideous but very much on brand. Making a mental note to make sure to give him hell for it later.
The bed was small, but he had scooted as far to the right that he could, giving you room to lay down beside him. Thoughtful, again he surprised you.
You threw on a tank and some clean panties, easing yourself in beside him under the sheets. He shifted just a bit, mumbling to himself before settling back in.
You turned over on your side away from him, making sure to keep a little distance between you before finally drifting off.
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Gator woke a couple of hours later, turning slightly to see your sleeping form beside him. It was still dark out, a sliver of light coming in through the slit in the curtains just enough to illuminate you.
He tried to be quiet as he gathered his clothes from around the room easing them back on his body.
He checked his phone. More than a few missed calls and one single text from Roy.
Where the fuck are you?
He knew he'd get more shit as soon as he got home. After their blowout last night he's surprised no one came looking for him but that would actually mean Roy cared about his well-being.
He sat back down on the bed as softly as he could, trying not to disturb you. He watched a cockroach crawl across the toe of his boot as he laced it. His lip curled up in disgust at the thought of you living here.
Maybe he could help you out if you decided to stay but he knew that was wishful thinking. You'd also made it clear last night was a one time thing but maybe he could change your mind.
He used his phone as a light to find a small notepad and pen on your nightstand. Jotting down his number, with a simple just in case scrawled out.
He took one more look at you sleeping peacefully, slowly letting his fingers trace the curve of your cheek, moving the hair from your face.
He finally understood what his dad had always warned him about. He felt weak with this overwhelming urge to protect you. He didn't really understand it. But deep down he was hoping you'd somehow feel the same.
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You woke up with a stretch and a groan. You'd slept cramped, pushed to the edge, careful not to touch the man beside you.
You turned over to a cold spot, suddenly wondering when he'd left.
Sitting up, you reached for your water at your bedside, raising it to your lips but stopped, noticing a note left there.
You gingerly picked it up. He'd left his number.
You thought about tossing it but instead grabbed your phone and input the info, quickly moving screens and typing out a text then erasing it.
You chewed the skin on your thumb, as you looked at the blank message, typing it out again.
Thanks. You took my mind off shit for a while.
Hitting send before chickening out, immediately slamming the phone down on the bed.
One time. It was supposed to be a one time thing.
He had responded to your text later that day with:
Sure bunny. you free tonite?
You had thoroughly ignored it for 2 hours before you texted him back, telling him what time he could swing by the motel after a customer had pissed you off.
It had been like that most nights since.
There were also those nights when he'd pick you up from work, always making sure to come in before close.
Taking the same seat at the bar, you'd happily grab him his usual Jack Daniels over ice. It was small talk at first but gradually became a little more.
You would laugh at his stupid jokes or tell him that he should tell his dad off after he had yet another blow out with him. He left out a lot of the details but you had inferred enough to know he was a piece of shit.
And after close, he'd slip his tongue past your lips as soon as you walked out the door, kissing you hard enough to melt the rest of the day away. His hands were all over you until you managed to get him into the truck to make that small drive across the road.
You’d fucked on just about every surface of that motel room, including some sketchy shower sex that almost landed you both in the hospital when you’d lost your footing.
He couldn’t take you back to his dad’s house, so a week later, he’s got you in the cab of his truck bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.
The windows were fogged up, anyone passing by could easily tell what was currently playing out. He’d parked in a clearing off a gravel road, close to his ranch but far enough away that no one would bother the two of you.
His cock was kissing your cervix each time your hips met his, at this angle it felt like he was in your guts. It was on the verge of being too much but that familiar ache in your lower belly told you to keep going. You were almost to the finish line.
He currently held his hand against your throat, after he'd figured out you liked it, he started taking it a little further each time.
“I feel her gripping me, your close Bunny. Keep fuckin’ goi…” He was interrupted when a banging on the glass startled you both.
Your movements halted, both looking like deer in headlights.
“Gator, c’mon out son. Need a moment.” Roy's voice rang out against the silence.
“Fuck,” he hissed, through gritted teeth, throwing his head back onto the headrest as you quickly moved off of him, pulling down your skirt and straightening your hair sitting up in the passenger seat.
He shoved his now softening cock back into his pants, zipping them up and jumping out of the truck, slamming it shut.
You picked up your panties from the dirty floor, and shoved them into your purse. From this vantage point you couldn't hear much of what was being said, but it was mostly Roy’s muffled voice coming through.
The more you learned about their relationship the more it turned your stomach. It was one-sided, Roy asking him to jump and Gator immediately asking how high.
You had made up your mind about Roy after that first meeting. The way he treated Gator was disgusting.
After a few more agonizing minutes, the truck door finally opened back up to reveal a very crestfallen Gator.
He hopped in without saying a word, turning the ignition and throwing it into drive. He punched the gas, throwing you back into the seat.
“What the fuck, Gator?!” You yelled, gripping the door as he peeled onto the gravel road.
“Daddy really put you in a bad mood, huh?” It slipped out with a patronizing tone.
“Fuck you!” He spat, pulling his vape from his pocket, letting it hit his lips expelling that sickly sweet smelling fruit that you've come to loathe.
“I mean, we tried that before we were so rudely interrupted back there.” You laughed to yourself.
“Goddamnit,” he hit the steering wheel with his fist, “Just shut the fuck up!”
“Fine. Just take me back to the Midway and don't bother texting me later when you get bored. Fuck you, asshole!” You huffed, crossing your arms and sinking a little deeper into the seat before staring out the window.
Regret started to pool within you. It was bound to happen. It always ended like this. You could never hold your tongue, letting insults roll off so easily.
It felt like the longest ride back across town. He'd pulled up to the curb not even bothering to put the truck in park as you hopped out slamming the door behind you.
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A few days passed successfully avoiding him all together. You'd contemplated deleting his number, your thumb hovering over the button each time, then slamming your phone back down.
It was just sex. You could cut ties now and let it be. Once that damn car is done, skipping town would be easy.
It was another gloomy, snowy day in Lehigh. And yet another excuse from Frank.
The heat in your room quit working, so you'd spent the morning moving your stuff down to another room that Maggie had gotten ready for you.
You'd hoped a shower might clear your head, relax you for a bit. It seemed to only make things worse. You were tired.
Checking your phone you were met with a text you'd been dreading.
You still in town?
Ignoring it, you laid down hoping a nap would do you some good.
Waking a couple hours later, you had a few missed calls and more texts from Gator.
Can we talk?
I came by the motel. Your room was empty. Did you leave?
Hello?
You groaned, sitting up.
Finally relenting and typing out a reply.
You almost sound worried, big boy. I'm fine. You can kindly fuck off now.
It began to buzz in your hand as you hit ignore. It continued off and on most of the day. A few more missed calls and messages, later that afternoon it finally stopped.
You breathed a small sigh of relief, curling back under the covers shutting the world out. Just how you preferred it.
You dozed in and out of consciousness. The TV provides soothing background noise keeping you snoozing all afternoon.
You were wrenched from your slumber when someone began to pound on the door. Dazed for a few seconds, before the pounding started again.
“Fuck, give me a second!” You yelled across the room, stumbling from the bed uncaring how you looked, sleep shorts and thin tank top with your hair askew.
Immediately jerking the door open, you’re face to face with a very agitated looking Gator. He must have been working today, dressed in his vest and gloves.
“Fuck no.” You said, and started to close the door. He was quicker, placing his boot clad foot in the way preventing you from pushing it shut.
“Move Gator.” You hissed.
“You’ve been ignoring me.”
“No shit. I told you not to bother. I should have blocked your ass. Now, move!” You shoved a little harder to no avail.
“What the fuck are you mad for, huh? You didn't get to cum that day, that it? There's a lot of things you don't understand. A lot of shit I can't talk about.”
You swung the door open, as you locked eyes with his.
“Oh, no I get it. I see it. You let daddy tell you what to do. You've been sneaking around with a whore and finally got caught, right?” He looked away, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Bingo.
Nodding your head as he finally looked back up to you.
“Yeah, that's what I thought. It's fine.”
“No, it's not fine.” He finally spoke up. “Can I come in? Just for a few minutes.”
“Why, Gator? We both know what this was. Just some fun, nothing serious. Remember? You don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me anything.” You laughed, but it died out once you noticed the look on his face.
If it was nothing serious, why did he look at you like you'd just knocked the wind out him? Big, glossy puppy dog eyes just like that first night you'd hooked up.
If it was nothing serious, why did your chest ache at the thought of hurting him?
“Gator, I…” You couldn't finish that sentence, he moved so quickly and in your groggy state before you could register what was happening, he placed one hand on your hip as he brought the other up to cradle the back of your head.
He kissed you so deeply, yet it had you yearning for more. You surprised him when you kissed him back, sucking his bottom lip between yours before letting go to look back up at him.
“Fuck, Y/N. I've… I've fuckin' missed you.” It came out quickly. A rushed confession you'd been expecting but to hear him say it out loud, only solidified what you'd been feeling. The reason you'd been so depressed the last couple of days missing his company.
You'd been on your own for so long, you'd forgotten what it actually meant to miss someone. For someone to miss you. It wasn't just about the sex anymore.
“It's only been a couple days.” You grinned, pushing your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.
“I know, I just thought you'd left and…”
You brought a finger to his lips.
“It's ok. I'm here.” For now.
“Yeah, you are Bunny. And I'm not letting you get away so easily.”
You didn't want to put a label on this or did you? Would that be so bad?
You started moving quickly, helping him out of his jacket, his shirt flying over his head in a flurry. He walked you back, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress, laying you back slowly.
His lips sealed to yours with a searing kiss. You were needy. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at each other.
Your hands flew to his buckle, undoing it with ease. Taking him in your palm as he moaned into your mouth.
He palmed your breast through your shirt as his thumb grazed over your nipple. Your body arched into him, already craving more as he began peppering kisses along your jaw.
“I fuck… Gator… I need you. Now.”
“I've got to get you warmed up sweet thing.” He chided.
“No, now. Please.” You whimpered.
He moved his hand lower, sliding your sleep shorts to the side, immediately his fingers trailed to your entrance already dripping arousal.
“Fuck, so wet.”
“I told you, I need you. Don't make me beg.” You pleaded.
He moved his digits up, swirling them around your clit, eliciting those sweet sounds he was looking for.
Removing his hand from you, he lifted himself up so he could push his boxers past his hips. He brought his palm up to your mouth, “Spit. Yeah, good girl.”
Bringing his hand to his cock, smearing a mixture of your spit and his precum down his length.
He slid your sleep shorts back over with one hand and guided himself to your entrance.
You had to will yourself to breathe as his tip began to stretch your inner walls. It was too much and not enough.
He slowly filled your aching pussy, as you wrapped your legs around him, eager to have him pressed into you.
“How are you always so goddamn tight?” He said, as you whimpered out, his cock pushing in to the hilt.
Immediately, he pulls out, only to push back in feeling deeper than before. The force of his hips pushing you further up the mattress with each thrust.
The pretty noises he drew from you only made him double his efforts. Picking up his pace, but rolling his hips a little upward each time. The wiry curls at the base of his cock nudging your clit each time his hips meet yours.
“Gator, I'm… mmmm… I'm close.”
“Yeah, bunny? Gonna strangle my cock? Gonna let me have it?”
You nodded as your eyes rolled back, it was closer than you thought.
Your orgasm hit with a scream of his name, as your pussy clamped down like a vice around him.
“Oh, fuck.” He tried to work you through it, but with your cunt pulsing around him he was done. He spilled his thick ropes inside your velvety walls as you milked everything from him.
“Fuckfuckfuck, filling this pussy full baby.”
He finally stilled, collapsing onto you, nearly crushing you in the best possible way.
He moved his arms up under your back pressing his face into your chest, mumbling something you couldn't quite hear as you brushed the hair from his face.
“What, baby?” You whispered down to him.
Baby. Baby. Baby. The first time you'd called him by a pet name. He grinned from his spot on your chest.
“Nothing, sweet thing. Just talkin’ to myself.”
You hummed absentmindedly, raking your fingers through his hair.
“How'd you know where I was?” Suddenly remembering all of those desperate texts and calls.
He pulled his head up to look at you, resting his chin on your sternum.
“Well, I asked that lady at the front desk. Tough old broad to crack.” You giggled, Maggie would never rat you out. “So, I started bangin’ on all the doors until I found yours.”
“Gator! You're crazy.” You laughed out.
“Crazy for you.” He mumbled pulling you on for a slow kiss.
“Wanna shower and stay the night?” You asked when he pulled away.
“Of course Bunny.” The nickname was unfortunately sticking around but you didn't mind.
You'd showered together, he didn't care that he'd go back home to Roy in the morning smelling like your vanilla body wash or rose scented shampoo. He'd made up his mind you were worth the shit he'd hear from him. That's all it was, shit.
He pulled you into his chest as you curled up into the sheets. Neither of you were very tired so you watched some TV and talked long into the night until your eyes grew heavy.
He'd be there when you woke up this time, groggy smiles and giggles between the sheets as he fucked you slow, taking you to breakfast afterwards.
It was the first time you hadn't felt like you were hidden away.
After that last night, things began to shift between you. The lingering looks, soft touches and post orgasmic bliss of tangling your limbs together while falling asleep wasn't something you shared with someone you didn't care about.
The secrets shared in the dark, confessions from you both crumbling that wall you had built up so high you were sure nothing would bring it down, especially someone like Gator Tillman.
He's arrogant, disgusting and rude. But somehow exactly what you need because he'd do anything to show you he's there for you.
You know it wasn't a coincidence your car was fixed the day after mentioning it to him. Frank had been jerking you around, thinking he could get more money out of you.
He was sporting a newly broken nose and wrist when he handed over the keys with a frown etched to his face.
The car was fixed. The one thing holding you back from leaving Lehigh for good.
As you pulled up to the Midway, he was parked there waiting for you, leaned against the truck, his favorite green cap on backwards with a cloud of smoke exiting his lips, slipping his vape back into his pocket when he spotted you.
You got out, your heart hammering in your chest. Neither of you ever had questioned what might come next.
He shoved his hands into his pockets as you came to stand in front of him.
“So?” He tilted his head, looking down at you.
“So…” You looked at the keys held in your fist. That voice in the back of your head kept warning you. Time to run, little bunny. Make your escape while you still can.
“Your car's fixed. You uh… plannin’ on leavin’?”
“I haven't thought about it.”
He snorted, “Yeah, that's bullshit.”
He moved, as you watched him walk around to the front of the truck.
“Hop in. I wanna show ya’ somethin’.”
He drove you across town, and winding down a few back roads.
“If you wanted to go parking, you could’ve just said so, handsome.” You laughed.
He rolled his eyes, “It's not that. Just trust me.”
Trust. Such a powerful word. Something the two of you built over the last month. You did trust him.
You reached over to intertwine your fingers through his, as he smiles back at you.
He pulled up to a house off to itself, on the smaller side but it was quaint and charming.
“What're we doing?” You asked as he parked.
“You'll see. C'mon.”
You followed behind as he led you to the front door, producing a key and opening it for you.
“Whose house is this?”
“God Bunny, you ask too many damn questions. Get your ass in there.” He nods, leaning on the doorframe as you walk past.
It's a two bedroom, one bath home. Nicely kept. Clean. But you were still confused as to why you were standing here.
“She's yours if you wan’ it.” He finally said, as you whirled back around to face him.
“What're you talking about?” Your brows furrow, confused by the sudden statement.
“Well, I mean, if you wanted to stay here in Lehigh. It's a rental.” He shrugged. “And, no girl of mine is stayin’ in that roach infested dump another day.”
You felt heat creep up your cheeks, but shook your head. “Gator, I can't afford this place.”
“Sure you can sweet thing. It's a steal at $500 a month.” Placing his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into him.
"$500? That's cheaper than the motel.” You squinted up at him, moving from his grasp. “What did you do?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything!” Gesturing to himself. “What makes you think I did somethin’?” He finished the sentence with a not so subtle grin.
"This place is easily worth double that. So, Gator Tillman, I'll ask you again. What did you do?”
"I didn't do anything. Just know someone owes me a favor s'all." You eyed him suspiciously, still wondering if it was a half truth.
"Well, I'm sure I’ll still need the deposit, so it'll be at least another month."
"No Bunny, like I said, someone owes me.”
You mulled it over for a moment, chewing your bottom lip.
“I can't.” You watched his face fall, but you quickly put your arms around his waist, pulling him in. “Not unless you stay here with me.”
He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head.
“So, you stayin’?” He mumbles into your hair.
“For now. Until you piss me off.” You smiled from where your face was pressed into his chest.
No more running, that urge was quelled with him. You finally felt at home.
Home was never a place to you, so it made sense that it ended up being a person.
268 notes · View notes
hanlimz · 8 months
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midnight thoughts: [heeseung + drunk words]
synopsis: real sweet, but you wish he was sober (alternatively, you take such good care of heeseung while he's drunk that he decides to tell you how he really feels). pairing: heeseung x gn!reader genre/warnings: hurt/comfort (?), f2l (ambiguous but still cute i promise) / EMETOPHOBIA TW (nothing happens but throwing up is mentioned, be cautious <3)!!!, drunk heeseung lol, tiny skz mention (my worlds colliding), um alcohol consumption (?), sunghoon is the dd don't worry there is no drunk driving! wc: 1.4k (el oh el)a/n: inspired by model student heeseung in the first couple en-o'clocks who is unreasonably attractive but also ? a dork . that is all. (love u hee stans this one's for u hope u're doing okay lately w ur man acting the way he is.)
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[1:16AM] six shots of tequila and a raspberry smirnoff ice deep, and lee heeseung is gone. strong surges of heat rush to his cheeks to create a dizzying push and pull effect, rivulets of sweat are beginning to drip from his temples, and he's trying his best not to vomit up the fried chicken jake and sunghoon made him eat earlier. heeseung finds solace on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor; he clutches the crisp fabric of his white button down and attempts to will away the waves of nausea that are crashing against the walls of his stomach. breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, heeseung's thoughts begin to drift back to a familiar place. he can almost feel the phantom sensation of your fingers carding through his hair; the tips of your fingers are refreshing and imbue him with a tranquility that he isn't often privy to.
"holy shit, dude—did we really let you get this fucked up?" heeseung vaguely registers jake's voice as two warm fingers reach under his jaw to check his pulse. inwardly, heeseung chuckles—leave it to biomedical engineering major, pre-anesthesiology track jake sim to presume death over everything else. glancing up, heeseung watches the genuine concern that flashes in the younger boy's gaze. "c'mon heeseung, we gotta get you home, bro. good god—[y/n] is actually gonna murder us …”
heeseung curls in on himself at the sound of your name, hiding away from the prodding of jake’s fingers into his upper arms. he wants to press his face into the crook of your neck, he aches to feel your hands cascading up and down the length of his spine, he yearns so desperately for a chance to indulge in a tender moment of unity with you. heeseung closes his eyes to relish in the way the memories seem to envelop him in a ghostly embrace, and he swears he only blinks once. the bass-boosted music and headache inducing strobe lights become mere background accompaniment to the movie playing behind his eyelids.
he swears he only blinks once, but the familiar aroma of your perfume begins to permeate his senses—bergamot and vanilla, his favorite. voices come into focus, his head starts to pound, and the reality of being splayed all over the backseat of sunghoon’s benz is setting in at the speed of falling molasses. "what the hell did you let him get into?" there's a certain venom in the question that bites at his jugular. he recognizes the cadence of your voice and the way you suck a sharp breath through your teeth with ease. "sigma kappa zeta is so out of hee's league—you couldn't have taken him to alpha tau zeta or tau chi tau or someplace that bang chan doesn't run?"
"he said he could handle it!" sunghoon counters.
you let an incredulous scoff escape your mouth as you berate the two boys in a hushed whisper, "and, you believed him? he obviously wanted to impress you idiots. god, i'm starting to think jongseong is the only one of you with a functioning brain ... "
"[y/n]!" jake exclaims, "so not chill."
"no—what's really not chill is tweedledumb and tweedledumber letting heeseung get wasted at his first frat party." you scold, voice cold as ice while jabbing an accusatory finger in their faces. jake and sunghoon hang their heads like dogs being told off for chewing up furniture; in any other situation, you might have had the inclination to chuckle, but you don't. "now, help him up to my couch and leave before i get even meaner."
everything is blurry as heeseung stumbles his way up the stairs to your apartment; sunghoon and jake are bickering with one another while supporting each side of his body—who is tweedledumb and who is tweedledumber, who let heeseung drink this much booze, who will have to recount tonight's escapades to jay, and who will have to give pity laughs to his impending dad jokes? they curse at one another until you mention the possibility of a noise complaint, and all the incessant chatter stops. in the midst of a spring night, only cricket song remains. heeseung focuses on the quiet chirping until the cool leather of your couch cushions begins to soothe the molten liquid that seems to course through his veins. goodbyes are exchanged and a door is closed somewhere far away, but heeseung's head is too heavy to lift.
he blinks again and opens his eyes to the rough fibers of an old washcloth running over the peaks and valleys of his face. the fabric brushes along the deep circles carved beneath his bloodshot eyes; concentration knits your forehead into a multitude of different creases, and heeseung can't help the pitiful chuckle that tumbles from his mouth. an airy sensation overtakes his being as he realizes that he's right where he had wanted to be all evening—with you. embarrassment still settles like an indestructible boulder in the pit of his stomach, however; shame's spindly talons sink into heeseung's flesh as he realizes just how much of a fool he's made out of himself.
"just—just wan'ed to be cool, [y/n]," heeseung slurs out, voice plagued with exhaustion. bringing his knees to his chest, heeseung attempts to keep his tears at bay. "just wan'ed to show you that i c'n be cool 'nd awesome 'nd sexy! but, now 'm just looking stupid on your couch ..."
placing the washcloth on the arm of the sofa, you move to rest heeseung's head in your lap. he gladly accepts the comforting gesture, cuddling into the soft cotton of sweatpants he realizes are his. combing your fingers through his roots and scratching at his scalp, you whisper, "for the record—i already think you're cool and awesome."
heeseung glances up at you, face swollen and eyes puffy. "really?" he asks, "so, you don't think i'm a stupid, un-sexy idiot that can't hold his liquor?"
"well, you can't hold your liquor," you muse with a hint of laughter in your voice, caressing the supple skin of his cheekbone, "but, no. i don't think you're a stupid, un-sexy idiot."
basking in the reality he was just confronted with, heeseung's drunken mind can only focus on one thing. his desperate need for clarification tempts him; desire's forked tongue beckons him towards the truth. the question repeats over and over again in his brain until it spills out—an unwilling victim of an inebriated perpetrator. "so ..." he drawls, attempting to wink but closing both eyes instead, "you think i'm sexy?"
and, you laugh. it's a euphoric sound—a beautiful melody reminiscent of spring picnics, gingham blankets, and the fragrant scent of blooming tulips. for a moment, heeseung loses himself in it; coherent thought escapes his grasp as he is overtaken by you. your touch, your warmth, the bleary image of your smile as it comes in and out of focus. you wash over heeseung in waves, an ocean of calm in a world that only seeks to burn; alluring siren song floods his mind as you call out to him over the sound of the blood pumping his ears. the cool tips of your fingers are beginning the quell the heat beneath heeseung's skin as consciousness begins to slip away from him, and a dopey grin is woven onto his lips.
"heeseung," you murmur, the ghost of a bout of giggles hiding behind your words. "hee, baby, you should really let me get up to grab you some advil."
the term tumbles from your mouth before you can help it, and you freeze. having revealed yourself, you're overcome by the desperate urge to run—but, heeseung has given you nowhere to go. his weight traps you, holding tight and pressing harder by the second. half of you wants to hear him say it back, while the other hopes for the couch cushions to swallow you whole. heeseung—though not a man of many surprises with his perfect grades, perfect attendance, perfect everything—manages to stun you tonight.
"wan' you t'call me that again, [y/n]," heeseung mumbles through sleep, "please."
"you want—" your voice catches in your throat, "you want me to call you baby?"
there's a beat of silence so long that you're almost sure heeseung has fallen victim to the salivating jaws of sleep, but he groans. the utterance is low and deep—dripping with what seems to be a concoction of mild annoyance, exasperation, and endearment. "'s all i've ever wanted, [y/n]," he replies, eyes closed and nose buried into your sweater, "you're all i've ever wanted."
another pause.
"okay," you say, meandering through the quiet for a moment, letting yourself wade towards him in this new sea of possibilities, "baby."
546 notes · View notes
itcars · 10 months
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First Look: The Porsche 911 S/T
Porsche is celebrating the 60th anniversary of the 911 with a special edition built for maximum driving enjoyment: in a limited run of 1,963 examples, the Porsche 911 S/T offers lightweight design and a purist driving experience. For the first time, the 386 kW (525 PS) high-revving engine from the 911 GT3 RS delivers its power to the road via a manual gearbox and lightweight clutch.
To mark the special anniversary of the iconic 911 sports car, the engineers in Weissach have designed a highly purist sports car dedicated to sheer driving enjoyment: the 911 S/T. The exclusive anniversary model unites the strengths of the 911 GT3 with Touring Package and the 911 GT3 RS and delivers a unique combination of agility and driving dynamics. It combines the naturally aspirated, 386 kW (525 PS) 4.0-litre boxer engine from the 911 GT3 RS with a short-ratio manual transmission. This is complemented by a resolutely lightweight construction and a running-gear setup optimized for agility and drivability. The 911 S/T weighs just 1,380 kilograms, making it the lightest model of the 992 generation. The optional Heritage Design Package draws inspiration from the racing version of the 911 S from the late 1960s and early 1970s.
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