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roosterforme · 2 months

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You rendered Bradley speechless and left him wondering if your students were the ones who wanted to know what he looked like or if it was really you who was curious. He wanted to know everything about you, but the urge to ask for more was mingling with his duty to keep things professional. You and he teetered on the edge... until you didn't.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley looking hot

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley found himself homesick in a way he never did before. He still had weeks and weeks of this deployment to go, stuck on the aircraft carrier, endlessly curious about someone he barely knew anything about and a classroom full of kids he'd never met. But he felt like he wanted to know more about you and them.

At least he was too busy now to dwell on the fact that it had been days since the last mail call. He was never one who was lined up, eager to collect something from a loved one. Vanessa and all of his other ex girlfriends never sent him handwritten notes or snacks. He'd gotten sporadic emails in the past, but nothing that made him smile and laugh out loud. Never anything that made him sad when he realized he had reached the end of the note, hoping for more.

He wanted to go back to the lounge and check his email, but he was afraid he'd have nothing new to read. There was really nobody else other than you who would send him anything right now, and he was sure you had something better to do with your time than comment on the photos he'd send of his jet and the engine parts. And even if you had written back, how long could he really keep this conversation with you going? How soon would you run out of interest in his deployment?

Bradley knew he'd be much better at talking to you in person, but how the hell was he supposed to get there? Jesus Christ, you were probably married. You probably already had someone back home wrapped around your fingers, and here he was, still thinking about you.

"Pitiful," he muttered, making his way to the lounge anyway. He would keep it professional with you. One hundred percent. But he still wanted to know if your students got to see the photos and if they had any questions about them.

When he logged into his email account, his heart skipped around a bit when he saw that he had something new from you. Then he opened it up and read it, and his lips parted softly in surprise at what you'd sent.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

Bradley read it again. Still surprised, he read it a third time. Were you the one asking for the photo? It seemed like you might be. Or was he just projecting here? Shit. Maybe. He'd been thinking about how he'd respond if you asked him something personal, and this felt like you and he were teetering right on the edge.

You even echoed his own thoughts, but it still made him warm all over to know that you looked forward to hearing from him. That it made your day better when he sent an email. He decided he was going to keep this going as long as he could.

He logged out again and headed to the mess hall for dinner, because there was no point in responding until he had the photo you just asked him for. One where you'd be able to see exactly what every inch of him looked like. As he ate his meatloaf, his thoughts all settled on that one pertinent question: were your students really the ones who were curious about how he looked, or were you? Because it sounded like it could be the latter. He fucking hoped it was. And he fucking hoped you wouldn't be disappointed after tomorrow when he sent you exactly what was asked of him.

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

You thought you were ready, but you weren't. Not for this. Not for him. Not even close. Thankfully it was still early enough that none of your students were in the classroom with you, because Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw had responded to your slightly tipsy email from a few nights ago. He sent exactly one photo, and your only response was to softly moan, "Holy hell."

To say he was attractive looking standing there in his flight suit next to the jet with his name on the side of it would have been the understatement of the century. He was hot. Unbelievably hot. Top tier. You shamelessly zoomed in to get an even better look at his face which was complete with a crooked little smile and a fucking mustache.

"Who does he think he is?" you asked the empty room, voice filled with need. "The audacity."

Even his messy, wavy hair looked soft enough for you to want to rub your face and lips against it. Where did that idea come from? You uncrossed and recrossed your legs as the most delightful thoughts filled your mind. You already knew he was sweet, kind, attentive and humble, but now you knew he was easy on the eyes, too. If only you could hear his voice.

After several minutes of uninterrupted gawking, you realized he'd written a few sentences to you as well, addressing you just as he always had. But this felt more personal. Maybe a little intimate.

For reference, I'm 6'1" and 205 pounds. That should give you and your kiddos a good size comparison, yeah? Also, just a little curious myself here.... are you sure they were the only ones who wanted to know what I look like? Or did you want to know, too?

So he called you out. Your whole body felt too hot and too light. You were floating off of your chair even as your heart pounded. You must be two feet in the air by now. He already knew what you looked like, but now you cared more than ever what he thought about you. Because you had a massive crush on your classroom pen pal.

"How embarrassing. You drunk emailed him! How are you supposed to respond to this?" you whispered as you closed your laptop and pressed your fingers to your lips. It was hard to tell if his tone was playful or not. He was smiling in the photo, which made you think that he was. But perhaps he was trying to put a stop to any topic of conversation that could be considered personal.

Then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. No way was this man single. He was handsome. That would have been enough on its own. But he also had an impressive career, all of his hair, and he was tall. And that didn't even scrape the surface of his sweet personality! You couldn't embarrass yourself further. You just couldn't. You wanted him to keep writing to your class, because they were already so attached to him. You couldn't ruin this for them.

When your students came flooding into the room, they led off with the same question they had every morning now. "Did we get anything in the mail from Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

"Not yet," you replied, still trying to decide how to respond to his photo. "But hopefully soon. He did email another picture though."

All of them were immediately headed for your desk, wanting to see what their pen pal looked like. You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself as you opened up that photo again, and then the kids all interjected into your thoughts.

"His jet is so cool!"

"It's huge!"

"He looks exactly how I thought he would!"

"Can he send us more stuff?"

It took you a good, long while to get them all into their seats. Clearly you weren't the only one who was entranced by him. Their questions overflowed, most of which still had to do with the aviation topics you'd been teaching them. Bradley Bradshaw had turned your classroom upside down, in a good way. And the more you thought about it, the more you just wanted to make sure you weren't missing out on something here. This man was better looking than the last three guys you went out with all combined, and he already made you feel tingly inside before you knew that for a fact.

You went home after work and did it again. You drank some wine and logged into your work email account and wrote back to him less than a day after he wrote to you. Part of you recognized that you'd look desperate, but you simply had to know so you could stop thinking about him if necessary. You started typing.

It was definitely, absolutely my students who wanted to know what you look like. It had nothing to do with me. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That being said...nice photo. Very nice.

My kids also wanted me to ask you if your spouse or significant other is in the Navy. And they'd like to know how old your kids are if you have any. Once again, just to be clear, I'm only asking these things on their behalf...

"Send," you whispered, doing it before you could stop yourself. Then you were left with your intrusive thoughts and the rest of the wine, ultimately deciding to just go to bed. He wasn't going to respond right away. He was busy working. You just hoped it didn't take too long.

But it did. Days passed. You normally tried not to think about your work email account during the weekends, let alone check it. Saturday was miserable as you logged in almost hourly to check and double check if you had something new from Lieutenant Bradshaw. It was so bad, you ended up initiating a movie night with some of your friends, opting to lock your phone in the center console of your car rather than take it into the theater.

Sunday was no better. You took yourself to the beach for the afternoon to try to read and sunbathe. But there was a group of guys in US NAVY TOP GUN shirts playing football, and you wondered if Bradley ever did this kind of thing with his friends. Or his family. Jesus Christ, why couldn't he just write back and tell you if he had a pretty wife and six adorable kids who loved to play football on the beach with him?

When two of the guys in the TOP GUN shirts purposely threw the football toward your towel and tried to play it off as an accident, you didn't even feel like returning their flirtatious banter. Neither of them had a mustache or soft looking brown hair. Neither of them left you wanting to know more.

You went home and tried so hard not to check your work email, but you failed miserably. But then you were happy you caved, because he wrote back. Bradley Bradshaw actually responded again. And a few seconds later, you were giggling and trying to control the squeal that escaped your lips.

When the mail arrived on the aircraft carrier yesterday, I was one of the first officers in line, and I wasn't disappointed. I got the second box from your class, and I can't wait to start reading and responding to everyone's notes this week. I'll let you know when you've got more mail coming your way.

Since your students seem to be showing quite an interest in my personal life, please let them know I actually don't have a spouse or significant other at all. Nor do I have any kids. Their letters (and your emails, too) are the only ones I'm getting this deployment. No one else has been writing to me. Nobody stateside is waiting for me. I hope that answers their questions to your liking.

And now it's your turn to answer a question for me. Is there a guy in your life who is going to try to beat the crap out of me if I tell you that I think you're gorgeous?

I'll just be waiting impatiently for your response.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

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

Bradley was so tired. The kind of bone deep exhaustion that only comes after the completion of a dangerous mission when your adrenaline finally wears off. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be back at home in his bed in San Diego with a soft, warm body next to his and a sweet voice in his ear. But he was picturing your face and your body, already convinced you'd have the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.

Shit. He needed to focus on what the admirals had to say instead of drift into daydreams.

"No need to report to the strategy room in the morning, Lieutenant," his commanding officer said as Bradley unzipped the top of his flight suit. "Take some time to rest."

He saluted the admiral and walked off toward his bunk and a hot shower. But even as the steamy water eased the ache in his muscles, he thought about how he already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right now. Not when he still had a few messages from your students to respond to. Not when those notes always made him smile.

This time you'd only included a very short note in the box, but it wasn't typed up and printed out. It was written in your pretty penmanship on a sheet of lined paper.

Lt Bradshaw,

I hope this package finds you well. Please prepare yourself for approximately seven hundred more questions. Thanks again for sharing your time with us.

He didn't mind one bit. In all actuality, he was living for this shit, already thinking about how he could maybe visit your classroom someday soon. Several of the kids asked him if he could. They all asked him to take more pictures of life on the aircraft carrier. Then he laughed for a solid minute over the photo that Jayden sent of his Cocker Spaniel named Vanessa.

But Bradley had purposely been neglecting his email inbox for the last few days. He was too afraid to read your words telling him that you were in fact taken, and that he was stupid for thinking you'd been the one who wanted to know what he looked like. He was rather enjoying the delusion that you might let him tell you how pretty he thought you were over email and maybe someday in person. He decided to respond to the rest of the notes in the box before getting rejected, otherwise it would be too hard to do this.

He finished writing back to Oliver and Cooper and then tucked the box away under his bed before drifting off to sleep while dreaming of his own bed. But the next day, he had literally no work to do. He's been given the entire day off. He hit the gym and avoided the married woman like the plague. Then he ate lunch and contemplated going back to the gym again, but his feet carried him to the lounge instead. At the very least, he promised you that he'd let you know when you had mail on the way so the kids could get excited. He should take the time to tell you he'd be sending more responses to your class by air mail.

Somehow Bradley had convinced himself so thoroughly that you were in a relationship, he almost couldn't fathom anything else. But there was a new message from you in his inbox, and it felt like a gift when he opened and read it.

Lt Bradshaw,

I must say, I was surprised to find out that my emails and the letters from my class are the only ones making their way to you. Not that I'm complaining. Not one bit. I just find it hard to believe that you don't have a lot of interested parties hoping for a chance to be the one you think about when you're deployed and all alone.

My last boyfriend didn't like it when I talked about my fourth graders. He didn't really see any value in what I do for a living. He would have never taken the time to read something they wrote let alone answer their questions individually. So no, there's nobody who would be upset with you for making me feel like there are butterflies permanently living in my belly now. If you want to tell me you think I'm gorgeous, I'm certainly not going to stop you.

Here's my personal, non school affiliated email address. Just in case you feel like using it. If not, you can keep responding here, and I can take the hint that we went far enough.

I hope you're doing well and staying safe.

Frantically, Bradley checked the date and time stamp. "Fuck," he growled, his fingers not quite able to keep up with his brain when he realized you'd sent this to him days ago. More than five days ago! "Shit. Fuck!" He had been keeping you waiting! As soon as he got his hands working at the same speed as his thoughts, he copied and pasted your personal email address and started a new thread like his life depended on it.

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

You were just curling up with a cup of sleepy time tea after a long day at work, wishing someone would put you out of your misery, when your phone vibrated on the couch cushion next to your leg. You were half tempted to ignore it, reasoning that it was probably time to accept the fact that Bradley Bradshaw already lost interest in you and delete his photos from your downloads folder. You should learn how to stop embarrassing yourself.

Then you glanced down and saw that you had a new email. It was from a now familiar sender. It had been sent to your personal account. You immediately scrambled to unlock your phone and read it.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'd like to take it further.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

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

What the fuck, Bradley, you smooth man! Take it further, take it further, take it further! I love how impatient they get when they want to hear from each other. Now go ahead and get a little more personal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who sent me messages and asks about this fic.

PART 4

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evie-sturns · 2 months

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Intersection - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after not driving for a few months, you accidentally rear end matts car at an intersection.

contains: crying, swearing, comforting, angry!matt.

-------------└── •✧• ──┘--------------

i haven't drove in the past 6 months that i've been away in Florida, but now i'm back in Boston im slowly starting to get back into it.

8:37pm

i flick my left indicator, swinging round the corner as frank ocean blares through my small white car.

the road is slippery due to the weather recently, the small puddles on the concrete shining from the illuminating street lights above.

i hum to the song as i accelerate, pressing my foot harder on the small pedal as i keep a reasonable distance between the grey van in front.

i check my wing mirrors, there's no cars behind me so i speed up, closing the distance between me and the car ahead.

theres an upcoming intersection, the traffic light is green, i look down at my cupholder for a split second, my bottle of water splashing up out of the bottle with every rock i drive over, "shit.." i mutter, reaching a hand down and fiddling with the cap.

i gasp as i look up, the light is red and the car which is 3 feet in front of me has come to a complete halt.

my heart drops as my mind goes blank.

"oh my god." i shout as the front of my car smashes into this grey van.

i sit in silence for a few seconds, the van drives to the side of the empty road, i follow and park behind, my heart thumps as i drive in total shock,

i've never been in a car accident, not even close.

i instantly start to freak out, how could i not in this situation. i turn off my car, stepping out and wiping my face with my sleeve as i take in panicked breaths.

the door of the other car swings open, a man steps out, he's wearing cargo jeans, a grey crewneck and an assortment of jewellery.

i've definitely seen him on tiktok before..?

i walk over to him, "i'm so fucking sorry my insurance will pay for everything" i ramble, the brunette replies "i know."

his voice is stern, he's definitely mad. i bite my nails as my leg shakes on the spot.

"how the fuck do you not brake? you were a solid 5 meters behind me and yet your car rams the back of mine? are you fucking stupid?" the boy says, staring into my eyes.

"my water spilt and i thought the light was going to stay green, i'm so sorry." i say back, my voice shaking as i start to cry.

he stays silent for a few seconds, scanning my face which is now flushed everywhere with a couple of tears falling from my eyes.

"stop, just give me your insurance details and number" he sighs,

after giving him my number and insurance details i start again, "ill call you an uber, im really sorry." i say, pulling out my phone and attempting to turn it on, soon realising it ran out of battery an hour ago.

"dont worry about it, my cars driveable." he says, i nod. the whole front of my car is squashed, including the engine.

"you got a way home?" the boy asks,

"i mean uh- no but i can just walk." i say with a small sniff,

"come on, ill drive ya." the brunette says, taking my hand and walking me towards his van, the back of it has a medium sized indent, nothing too major though.

"you don't have to i swear its not a far walk" i protest, "i'm not gonna let you walk, honestly its okay." he says, climbing into the drivers side.

i get into the passengers side, he pulls out his phone "i'm gonna call someone to tow your car okay?" he says, his voice soft.

"yeah- okay." i reply.

i've found out this boys name is matt, i knew it was something like that, we're now pulling into my street after apologising thousands of times. aside from the whole 'ramming his car' we clicked well together.

i point out my house, matt jumps out first to let me out of his van, "are you okay now?" he asks with a small laugh, "yeah- i think." i reply with a guilty expression plastered on my face.

"can i have a smile?" he asks, i force a pathetic smile and matt nods.

"ill text you tomorrow, we should see each other sometime?" he asks nervously,

did he just ask me out?

"yes! yeah i'd like that." i say,

matt leans down, giving me a hug,

"i'm sorry for making you cry."

"what? no! i'm sorry for rear-ending your car!" i reply, pulling away from the hug and giving him a warm smile.

----

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine

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alltheirdamn · 3 months

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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

*The Oil Change*

Summary: Joel decides to give you a lesson in changing oil... Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4k Warnings: Pre-Outbreak AU, mechanic!Joel, f! masturbation, fingering, squirting, power dynamic shift, submission, overstimulation, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (babydoll, darlin', cowboy), ROUGH sex, creampie, lots of banter, questionable information on how to change oil, joel being the MAN that he is A/N: Just a fun lil drabble about our two favorite people ever... also, I am definitely NOT a qualified mechanic with this story, so pls don't follow these instructions when changing your oil lol unless you want to include a mind-blowing orgasm to the mix

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“Okay, so what now?” You asked, staring at the engine of your car.

It was a quiet Saturday at the shop, and Joel had insisted on teaching you how to change the oil. You were ready to get greased up with the car on a jack and the hood open. Joel leaned over the car, pointing to the oil cap beside the engine.

“See that? That’s where the oil is. We gotta check the levels first before changin’ it,” he explained.

“So… just unscrew it and look into it?” You sounded like a typical dumb girl in a mechanic shop.

Joel was patient with you, though, and far too eager to teach you the ropes. Untwisting the oil cap, he pulled out a long stick beside it, covered in dark liquid. Holding it on the base of a dirty towel, he presented it to you, pointing at the lines on the bottom of it.

“S’called a dipstick,” he said. “Those lines on the bottom show your fuel levels. If it’s below that line, means you needa change it. What’s it sayin’, babydoll?”

You inspected the dipstick and saw the oil coating it under the line. So far, so easy.

“Says I need new oil,” you nodded.

Joel hummed his approval, putting the dipstick back into its spot and leaving the oil cap open. Rounding the car, he pulled up some sort of flat-rolling device. He nodded his head over to it, wordlessly instructing you to follow him. He put it at the side of your car, moving it back and forth to show you how it worked.

“This’ll help you get under the car. S’called a creeper. You just lay down on it and slide under. Think you can do it or want to watch me work?”

You contemplated it, knowing you had seen him on it plenty of other times. You spent countless afternoons watching him lying on the underside of a vehicle, with his thighs flexing under his jeans and his shirt riding up to expose his lower stomach. He always had a particular look when he came back out from under the cars, his hair disheveled and a stupid grin plastered on his face. For such a simple job, Joel sure did love it.

“I can do it,” you decided. “You can’t be the only one getting all greased up and dirty.”

Joel smirked at you, his hand coming to palm your ass. Leaning into his touch, you pecked him on the cheek and lowered yourself onto the creeper. Staring up at him, you gave him a questioning look as if to ask what now? Pressing his word boot against your shoe, he slid you under the car slowly, your view of him being replaced by the underside of your car. Everything looked just as confusing as it did under the hood. Joel pushed an empty metal pan under with you, along with a wrench and a towel.

“Alright, babydoll,” he said, his voice closer as he crouched down. “This is where it’ll get messy. Just listen to my instructions, and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m trusting you with my life,” you grumbled. “Don’t let me get covered in oil down here, cowboy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babydoll. Now, take a look up and find the drain plug. Should look like a lil’ metal screw. You got it?”

Your eyes scanned upwards, straining until you settled on the screw. You grabbed the wrench and lined it up with the screw.

“I just unscrew it?” you hollered.

“Wait! Hold on, babydoll!” Joel called out.

You heard shuffling beside the car and suddenly felt his shadow beside you. He squeezed his way under the car with you; his body angled sideways to get a view of the drain plug. You glanced over at his face, giving him a soft smile. He had that look of focus cresting over his features, his lips pursed, and forehead scrunched together. It was cute seeing him take this so seriously.

“Alright, alright,” he exhaled. “The oil s’gonna come out fast, so be ready for it. Try movin’ your body my way so you don’t get it all over ya’.”

“You make this sound so dirty,” you laughed.

“It is dirty,” he said pointedly. “Get that pretty lil’ mind outta the gutter.”

“Or what?” you questioned, shuffling your body against the creep. You leaned into his broad frame, feeling his chest press against your back.

“Focus,” he growled. Despite his irritation, you could feel him harden against you.

“Okay, okay,” you relented.

Reaching up, you used the wrench to loosen the screw, utterly oblivious to the chaos that was about to transpire. The screw shot out onto the metal pan with a thud, followed by a heavy stream of oil splashing against the empty pan. Thick, black oil splattered onto your cheek and neck, the warmth of it staining your skin. You yelped at the contact, rolling off the creeper and falling into Joel’s open arms. His chest shook with laughter as he hauled you further from the oil, still steadily draining out.

“I warned ya’,” he said. “It’s messy.”

“You didn’t tell me I’d get hit with the oil!” you yelled, jabbing him with your elbow, which only sent him into another fit of laughter. “It’s not funny!”

“S’kinda funny,” he chuckled. “I’ll get you all cleaned up after, don’t worry.”

“You fucking better,” you grumbled.

You watched the oil finally finish draining, a slow drip falling into the filled pan. Joel shimmied out from under the car, whispering in your ear to stay put. He came back a moment later, reaching down to hand you some sort of metal canister. Turning it in your hand, you read the label and saw OIL FILTER plastered on the side.

“Now we gotta change the oil filter,” Joel explained. “First, y’gotta get the old one out, then we can replace it.”

“Why don’t you do the rest? I’m already messy enough.”

“Oh, so you can talk dirty, but I can’t, huh?” He teased, squeezing your calf as it stuck out under the car.

“Oh, shut up!”

Joel bent down to lay under the car with you again, tilting his head to look at the oil filter. His hand twisted the old canister until another glob of oil fell into the pan, smearing over your t-shirt. The oil leaked down his hand, covering the straps and face of his watch and coloring his tan skin.

“Jesus Christ, Joel!”

“Why don’t ya’ save that hootin’ and hollerin’ for after the oil change,” he quipped. “I’ll make sure ya’ say that again, just in a different way.”

You glanced at him, welcomed by an overdramatic wink on his handsome face. He nudged you with your elbow, turning your focus back to the oil change. Guiding your hand up to the empty space, he helped you install the new filter, both of your hands working in tandem as you twisted it back into place.

“There ya’ go, babydoll. Good job.”

“Joel,” you warned. “If you keep talking in my ear like that, I’m going to smack the shit outta you.”

“I reckon you’d rather fuck me,” he whispered in your ear.

Joel shuffled out from under the car, leaving the space vacant around you. You managed to get your body back onto the surface of the creeper, propping your knees up to help propel you forward and out, but as you did, an oil-slicked hand grabbed your ankle. You yelped at the contact, your body lurching from under the car and back into the sun-drenched garage. Joel stood over you with a coy grin and a stiffness in his jeans you were all too familiar with.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, an unspoken warning to him about what he was thinking. You were covered in oil and felt absolutely disgusting… he was not touching you.

“Don’t you even think about it,” you warned, sitting up on the creeper. It rolled back against the car, hitting the side door with a soft thud.

Joel stalked forward, crouching to meet you at eye level. He had those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes, and his bottom lip was pushed out and extra pouty. He was undeniably cute, but you wouldn’t cave.

“We got ten minutes to kill ‘til we can recheck the levels,” he insisted.

“Ten minutes? You won’t even last two, cowboy.”

That did him in.

Pulling the edge of the creeper forward, Joel came down to eye level, a flash of intensity cresting over his brown eyes. His hand brushed over your neck, tugging at your ponytail.

“Says you, babydoll. I’ll have you coverin’ the floor in your juices in less than a minute,” he argued.

Your mouth fell open, both shocked and a bit turned on. He wasn’t wrong, but you were determined to prove him wrong. Arching your body forward, your hands gripped the collar of his flannel, hauling him into a long kiss. His tongue brushed over your bottom lip, making you moan helplessly. Damn this man and his ability to make you submissive and pliable.

“Do you think you’re that good?” you taunted, working your mouth down to nip at the patchy beard covering his jaw.

Joel’s hand untangled from your hair and moved to your neck, squeezing your throat gently—a warning. He held you steady as he met your eyes with a fierce look, his eyes nearly black.

“Do you need a reminder, darlin’? ‘Cause I ain’t afraid to teach you a lesson.”

“You’re already teaching me a lesson,” you reminded him, with a touch of sassiness in your voice. “A lesson in changing oil.”

“Keep it up, babydoll. Y’know I love it when you’re a brat. Means I get to fuck it right out of ya’.”

“And I give you full permission to fuck me later. Right now, oil change,” you emphasized.

He huffed a loud groan, rolling his eyes and straightening to his full height. Offering a hand, Joel helped you stand back up, pecking you on the cheek before leading you back to the open hood of the car.

“When the oil’s settled, we’ll check the dipstick again to make sure the filters workin’,” he explained.

“Sounds easy enough. And that’s it?” You asked.

“Yup. All good after that, babydoll. We just gotta kill them ten minutes.” He gave you a side eye, insinuating what you both could be doing.

“I’m sure you can make yourself busy,” you smiled, blissfully aware of how much you were killing him.

“Rather be busy makin’ you scream my name,” he grumbled, inspecting your car's engine.

“Aw, is my man pouting?” You teased, rounding the edge of the hood to hug him from behind. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder blade, working your grease-covered hands over the buttons of his flannel. Your fingers danced over each one, toying with them just to elicit his response.

“You’re killing me, babydoll,” Joel groaned.

“Am I?” You asked innocently. Your hands trailed down his stomach, inching closer to his belt.

Joel’s hand shot forward, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist. You gasped as they tightened around your skin, his arm twisting until he maneuvered you around to stand in front of him. Your ass hit the edge of the bumper at the exact moment his hands came up to pull your face to his. His lips crashed onto yours, his tongue seeking yours as he forced your mouth open wider. A desperate whimper escaped your mouth, only making his movements more intense and all-consuming. Your teeth dug into the plush skin of his bottom lip, tugging gently as he broke away.

“I’m beggin’ you, babydoll. Please let me fill that pretty pussy, I’m about to lose my damn mind.”

You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. His eyes were saucers; his pupils lost amidst the brown in his irises. Despite the afternoon sun still flecking across the corners of the garage, shadows danced over his features, emphasizing the hungry look he was giving you. You knew it would be easy to cave into his needs—you wanted to—but maybe, just maybe, you’d enjoy seeing him work for it.

“You wanna beg for it, cowboy?” You asked. “Let me see it.”

Joel’s mouth parted, words failing him as he studied your posture and dominant voice. You lifted your chin, trying to level him with a heavy stare even with the inches of height he had over you.

“Well?” You questioned.

“Whatcha want, darlin’? Y’wanna see me on my knees?” He suggested, shifting slightly.

Your eyes flicked down to the bulge in his jeans, watching it strain against the zipper the longer you stared. Your tongue darted out, rolling over your bottom lip before you bit into it. Joel let out an impatient groan before sinking to his knees before you. Now, the eye contact shifted, your height imposing over his. Seeing his eyes strain upwards to look at you gave you a new sense of control. You liked it.

“Is this what ya’ wanted?” His voice dropped an octave.

“I don’t hear any begging,” you shrugged.

Joel clasped his hands together, holding them in front of his chest, as he met your eyes with a pleading stare. His kiss-swollen lips pushed out into a pout, and his voice was agonizingly desperate as he spoke.

“Please, babydoll,” he begged. “I’m dyin’ to see you ruin the floors of this damn garage. Fuckin’ desperate to make you cum all over my cock, please.”

“I like you begging,” you mused. “You’re so handsome on your knees.”

Joel groaned, letting his head fall against your thighs. Running his hands up your jeans, his fingers worked towards your zipper, which you quickly swatted away. Carding your hand through the sweaty curls atop his head, you yanked them back to force his eyes on you again.

“Do you want to see me cum?” You questioned.

Joel nodded pathetically, his thick neck straining the longer he looked up at you. You noted the outline of his veins under his sun-kissed skin and how his throat bobbed with each word you spoke.

“Fuck, babydoll. Yes. Please, I want it s’bad,” he pleaded.

“Then be a good boy and watch,” you commanded.

Arousal flooded through your veins as you unzipped your jeans, shimming them down your hips and thighs before discarding them somewhere amidst the mess of the workspace. Standing before him in only a tiny lace thong, you watched as Joel wordlessly tracked your movements, his eyes zeroed in on the apparent slickness between your thighs. You had done such a good job of restraining yourself earlier to saying no, but how could you deny a man on his knees?

“No touching,” you ordered. “You’re only allowed to watch.”

Hooking your thumbs under the band of your underwear, you let them slowly fall to the ground, your legs stepping out of them as you adjusted yourself against the bumper of the car. Pressing your ass against the cold metal frame, you lifted one leg to rest on top of the bumper; your foot pressed down as you shifted your weight to support your body. Joel obediently watched, his hands resting on his thighs as ordered.

You moved your hand down your abdomen, your fingers drifting lower as you teased your wet folds. Joel watched with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving the sight of your hand. You made small circles over your clit, the brush of your fingers against it electrifying your nerves. Unrefined pleasure coursed through you as your movements intensified, your hips rolling against your hand as you chased your orgasm. Joel let out a strangled groan, and your eyes snapped to him, only to catch his hand palming over his cock beneath his jeans.

“No,” you said firmly. “You can’t touch yourself yet.”

“Babydoll,” he whined. “S’fuckin’ killin’ me.”

You leveled him with a heavy stare, pushing two fingers inside your aching cunt with a cry of pleasure falling off your lips. You wanted to see him work for it and see how long he’d last without snapping. With two fingers curling deep inside you, you brought your other hand into the mix, drawing those same lazy circles over your clit until you felt that white-hot pressure building inside your core. Joel still hadn’t moved an inch; every muscle in his body tensed as he watched helplessly. You curled your fingers harder, pulling more soft sounds from your mouth as you teetered on the edge of release.

“Joel,” you panted. “I—I need your fucking mouth.”

There was no hesitation.

He crawled to you, replacing the fingers on your clit with his mouth, his tongue stroking the aching bud with fervor. Each flick and drag of his tongue was another shockwave through your nerves, pushing you closer and closer until you were crying out into the space around you. With one large hand gripping the back of your thigh, Joel pressed his tongue harder against your clit until you were crashing over the edge. You came with his name falling off of your tongue, your wet arousal dripping down the bridge of his nose as he pushed his face further into you. Joel wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling your fingers from your wet entrance, and sucked them into his mouth. Your eyes connected as he stared up at you, his tongue gliding up each finger as if he were a starved man.

Fuck control, and fuck the oil change; you needed him. Now.

“Take me, cowboy,” you pleaded. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Y’gonna regret sayin’ that,” he warned, hauling himself to his feet.

Joel’s arms wrapped around the back of your knees, throwing you over his shoulder. You yelped at the sudden movement, your hands bracing against his lower back. The garage became a blur as he moved past the cars and mess of tools on the ground. Maneuvering you onto the workbench, Joel guided you back until you were flush with the wooden bench, his body hovering over you. His hands moved swiftly on his belt buckle, letting his cock spring free as he hauled your legs over his shoulders.

“Don’t get grease all over me,” you said. “Keep your filthy hands to yourself, cowboy.”

“Oh, don’t worry, m’gonna make a fuckin’ mess of you,” Joel smirked and lined his cock up with your entrance.

He drove into you with such force your body shifted upwards on the bench, your skin digging into the wood as you tried to adjust to his size. No matter how many times Joel fucked you, you were always breathless when he filled you with every inch of his cock. He had you bent in half in this position, his hands braced behind you on the bench, and your legs folded over his shoulders. The strength behind each thrust was brutal, and you cried out with each snap of his hips against yours.

“Did ya’ enjoy teasin’ me, babydoll?” He grunted. “You like seein’ me on my knees beggin’ for this pussy?”

“Yes!” You wailed, tears forming in your eyes.

“Gonna make you fuckin’ beg for my cum, darlin’. Let’s fuckin’ hear it. Scream for me.”

Joel fucked you with abandon until you were a crying mess. Your hands wound around his neck, nails digging into his skin just for stability. The flutter of your cunt around him sucked him in further, plunging his cock at a deeper angle that catapulted you right to the precipice of release. He knows it, too. If you thought his pace was brutal before—this was violent. He was claiming you in every single buck of his hips, and you steal a glance upwards to see his face twisted up in determination.

Your voice was becoming hoarse from screaming his name; the void of the garage filled with the sounds of your cries and the disgusting slap of his hips against your slick cunt. Every muscle in your legs tensed and shook as you tried to quell the desperate need for release. You couldn’t hold it much longer; his cock was rubbing against that perfect spot inside you.

“I can feel that pussy clenchin’ my cock, babydoll,” Joel whispered, lowering his mouth to your ear. “Don’t fuckin’ cum yet. Not ‘til I tell you.”

“Joel, I—I can’t wait,” you sobbed. “Please, I need it.”

“Be a good girl for me,” he growled. “You can do it.”

Your chest heaved with another sob, the tears overflowing as your cunt clenched harder. You were using every ounce of your energy to hold your orgasm at bay, to force your body to wait until he gave you that release. His greased fingers found your overly sensitive clit, pressing right against the bud and alighting the nerves inside you. Your back arched off the bench as you stifled another scream of pleasure.

“Look at you,” he taunted. “So fuckin’ desperate now, huh? Teased me all day, and now y’wanna cum so bad? Alright, babydoll, cum for me.”

The world fizzled out as your orgasm wracked through your body, lurching you upwards into his arms as you clung to him with shaking limbs. A stream of liquid poured from your pulsating cunt, a ripple of pleasure folding over your nerves and tumbling you into oblivion. Joel’s body tensed under you as he filled you with his release, hot ropes painting the inside of your cunt. Another wave of arousal tore through you, drenching the bench beneath you and dripping onto the floor. Even amidst the haze of your orgasm, you could hear Joel chuckling softly.

“Told you I’d have ya’ drenchin’ the ground.”

“Shut. Up.” You panted.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, kissing your tear-soaked cheek.

Joel removed himself from you, easing your sore legs off his shoulders and placing your feet on the floor. Your vision was still blurred as you stared at his face, his lips twitching with a smug grin and a trail of sweat rolling down his temples.

“I reckon that oil’s ready to check now, darlin’,” he said, offering you a hand.

You took it, winding your fingers through his. With a squeeze of his fingers, you walked over to the car, trying—and failing—to hide the limp in your steps. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and down your thighs, but you watched silently as he pulled out the dipstick and presented it to you.

“Good job, darlin’,” he smiled. “Now ya’ know how to change the oil. Whatcha wanna learn next?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your underwear from the floor and slipping them over your hips.

“Maybe I can teach you how to slow down your damn sex drive, cowboy. You’re gonna fucking break me in half one day,” you grumbled.

“Don’t think you’d mind it much, babydoll.”

Joel tugged you close, tipping your chin up to meet his lips with a tender kiss. You were pliant in his hands, molding yourself to each hard muscle of his body. Running your hands up his biceps, you gripped his shoulders and slipped your tongue over his. He palmed your ass, pressing your body tighter against his chest.

“You’re a terrible teacher, you know that?” You mumbled against his mouth.

“But ya’ love me,” he tossed back, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“Yeah, I do,” you sighed happily.

“And I love you, babydoll.”

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller pre outbreak #one shot #drabble #mechanic!joel #questionable oil change

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jjsfavgirl · 28 days

Text

Calm down party girl

JJ Maybank x partygirl!reader

Summary: JJ taking care of his girlfriend after a long night of partying.

I’m going to a party on Saturday and couldn’t stop picturing this hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings:alcohol, underage drinking, nudity, suggestive content( just reader being a horny drunk)

“Jay! Jay! Did you get my drink?” I smiled, stumbling into my blonde boyfriend as he caught me by my elbows and stabilising me. Chuckling at my drunken state, he knew that now was the time to cut off my tab and send me home.

“Calm down party girl.” He began, pulling my closer to him as to avoid shouting over the noise of drunk teens and the 2000s mix blasting over the stereo as cheers filled the room. “Let’s get you home, princess.” He smiled at me.

“Nooo.” I groaned, pouting out my bottom lip, praying it would convince him to let me stay.

“You can’t even stand without falling over, hun.” He chuckled.

“But-“ I began speaking.

“Nuh uh. No buts let’s go.” He spoke, not hesitating to take his hands off my arms and scoop me up bridal style, his arms setting under my neck and legs like they were sculpted for his touch.

Not wanting to argue with him, I allowed him to carry me to the porch of the house. As he set me down on the wood, my heels clicked and my head spun from the sudden position change.

“Can you make it to the car?” He quizzed, taking my pink purse off my shoulder and stuff both our phones into his pocket as he fished out the keys to the Twinkie.

“Yep.” I giggled, my drunken state driving my emotions hire wire.

Shuffling my way through the car park, my eyes glowing up at my handsome boyfriend who was looking back every so often to make sure I was still following him.

He smiled at me brightly, interlocking our hands together and helping guide me as he spotted the Twinkie behind a black Maserati.

My bottom lip poured out once more as the pain of my pink heels dug deeper into my ankles, my feet dragging even more.

JJ took notice to my struggle and immediately stopped walking to check on me.

“Put one foot on mine so you can take of your heel.” He ordered, knowing exactly what was hurting me.

We had both seen this before, partying every weekend then ending in me getting a foot massage from JJ after wearing my iconic pink heels that were one size too small for the long hours of the night.

“No, I’ll hurt you.” I spoke, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t care, you’re in enough pain as it is.” He said.

I obliged with him, doing as he said and placing my skinny heel on his foot as I removed my right heel then did the same with my left.

Groaning slightly as my bare feet tingled from the cold, sharp gravel beneath them, JJ turned around, placing both hands behind his back and motioning for me to hop on.

“I’m not a little kid jay.” I laughed at his movements, placing my hands on his shoulders as I hopped on.

“What ever do you mean? This is a very serious piggy back.” He chuckled, turning his head slightly to flash his pearly white while both his hands linked under my calves once more.

He carefully placed me down in the passenger seat of the Twinkie, tucking my legs under the dash as he placed my pink heels in my lap.

Joining me in the car, he started up the engine and we headed back to the Château.

Arriving at the Château, we spotted John B and Sarah laying with legs intertwined on the hammock outside.

“I swear she went out yesterday?” John B laughed, noticing my skimpy clothes and drunken state.

“You are one crazy lady y/n” Sarah laughed.

“You know it!” I cheered, throwing my hands in the hair as my strapped heels swinged around my bracelet covered wrists.

“Come on, party girl, let’s get to bed.” JJ ushered me inside the Château, guiding me by my bare waist.

I giggled, turning around to my boyfriend and placing a sloppy kiss on his lips then trailing them down to his tan neck.

“Nuh uh.” JJ pulled my wrists away from his chest, forcing my lips to retract from his body.

“Whyyy.” I groaned, pouting like a spoilt little kid once again.

“Bedtime.” He smiled, spinning me back around and leading me into the spare bedroom we called our own.

Plopping myself down onto the bed, savouring the smell of JJ (weed, sweat and cheep booze) JJ searched through his drawers and pulled out a baggy shirt of his and black biker shorts of mine.

“Arms up.” He spoke as he approached me, fingers motioning me to put my arms up.

A bright smile covering my whole face from eyes to mouth, I obliged as my arms swung in the air and JJ began to strip off my small “shirt”.

He did the same action with the mini skirt I had on, immediately sliding on my shorts and carefully shimmying his shirt over my long locks.

We both lay down together, his arms immediately wrapping around my frame as I played with our matching bracelets which lay so perfectly on his tan wrist.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He smiled down at me, his smile growing even wider than what seemed possible as I grinned up at the surfer.

“Yeah, I broke the record for most shots taken.” I smirked back, very proud of my accomplishment.

“That’s my girl.” He laughed heartily, placing a warm kiss on my forehead.

#jj maybank #obx netflix #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #obx fanfiction #outer banks #obx imagine #obx fic #obx x reader #obx rp #obx cast #jj x reader #rudy pankow #summer #fluff #oneshot #party

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making-you-in-spore · 28 days

Note

have you checked out / do you have any thoughts on any of the recent spore-like indie games? talking about stuff like The Sapling or Elysian Eclipse

i'm not really much of a gamer outside of a select few games i've been playing for years on end, but it's cool that people are trying to recapture the charm of spore. i support them fully, and i hope they make good games with their premise.

however, unless you're really truly dedicated to what spore is as a game, none of them are going to be spore 2. spore's creature creator is only one part of its genius - it is a community, creativity oriented game at its core, and an actual game second.

if the game you're making doesn't have the extensive creation power, procedural animations, randomly seeded creatures and creations, etc- it won't be spore 2. if you don't have the ability to implement your creations into someone else's game with something as simple as a png, it won't be spore 2.

if you don't have the goofy, bouncy, janky animations and personality of spore, it will not be spore 2.

spore may not have "lived up to its expectations" as people say. but it is an absolute marvel of video game engineering, especially for its time. nothing anyone has made has ever lived up to spore as we got it. i need to emphasize that all of the data for things you create is stored in png files in your documents folder.

these pngs alone store all the data for your creations. that's fucking brilliant, considering they're only a few kilobytes in size. my entire creature folder is less than 6mb in size.

spore is an infinitely huge game with some of the best file optimization practices i have ever seen, if not downright the best.

i don't think we'll ever get anything like this again in our lifetimes, and i both mourn and celebrate that. i sincerely hope that sporelikes take off and we eventually get one that almost captures the feeling of the original spore, but it won't be very likely in this lifetime.

i hope one day they prove me wrong, though.

#not spore #ask

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melobin · 5 months

Text

જ⁀➴ nuts and bolts 𐙚 sungchan

part of the riize as porn plots series.

summary - your car has been acting up all week so you finally decide to take it to the garage after work, lucky for you there’s only one person there and you’re his last customer of the day.

wc - 4.3k

warnings - mechanic!sungchan x customer!femalereader, dom sungchan, strength kink, size kink, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise, hair pulling, biting, finger sucking, manhandling, face fucking, oral sex f and m receiving, cum eating, heavy use of good girl

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

the garage was colder than you expected, even with the shutter door down there was still a chill in the air. you guessed that’s what you got for taking your car to be fixed so late into the evening. there wasn’t many garages that stayed open past five pm, you were lucky to have found the one you did. extra mile, it was a privately owned business, the only one of its kind, so its hours were a little more flexible than the big branded ones. it’s slogan was something along the lines of, we will always go the extra mile for you, so you hoped you weren’t about to be scammed.

when you called up a man answered, he sounded young, he told you that they stayed open till late and that he had no one else booked in for the evening so you could come in whenever. when you got there, you assumed the same man that answered the phone had also let you in, he closed the shutter door behind you once you parked your car inside of the garage.

“thank you for seeing me so late” you spoke as you got out of your car, seven pm wasn’t the ideal time for anyone to be working so you were thankful.

“of course, what kind of gentleman would i be if i didn’t help a lady in need?” you finally looked up at him once he spoke, you weren’t sure what kind of man you were expecting to see but it wasn’t that “i’m sungchan” you smiled at him, introducing yourself back before taking a proper look at him. sungchan was gorgeous, from head to toe. his eyes sparkled as he looked at you, a soft smile gracing his pretty face. soft brown hair styled messily, he’s probably been running his fingers through it all day, he also happened to be insanely tall.

you did wish you didn’t look further down his body though, he must’ve had a long day. his overalls were tied around his hips leaving his upper half only clad by a thin, dirty, white tank top. it stuck to his body, you weren’t sure if it was just that tight or if it was from the sweat that had accumulated against his skin, but either way it fit him perfectly. a little too perfectly, you could see the ridges of his abs through the material and it was hard to miss the way it creased between his pecs. letting your eyes flick to his arms was your downfall, sweat caused them to glisten under the dull lights of the room. they were thick, muscly, they bulged due to the way he had his arms crossed in front of his chest.

sungchan was delicious, in every way. although sitting in a cold garage waiting for your car to be fixed wasn’t your ideal way of spending your evening after a long day at work, you were not about to complain about being left alone with sungchan for a few hours. you noticed the way the corner of his lip twitched from a smile into a subtle smirk once you let your eyes wander back to his face, you knew he’d caught you checking him out but it didn’t phase you; with how he looked, he must’ve had women falling to their feet for him all day long.

“so what seems to be the problem, sweetheart?” sungchan’s head gently tilted to one side, the same sweet smile from before returning to his lips. you tried to ignore the way the pet name made you feel, even though you were sure it was normal to feel nervous over an attractive man calling you sweetheart.

“well” you thought for a moment, realising you didn’t actually know how to explain the problem “there’s been this clicking sound coming from the engine when i’m driving, my friend said it would be good to come and get it checked out”

“has it been going on for long?”

“about a week now, i just haven’t had time to get it checked because all the garages tend to be shut by the time i finish work” sungchan nodded.

“i see, may i have you keys so i can take a look please?” you handed him your keys, trying to ignore the way his veins popped out in the back of his hand when he wrapped his fingers around your keys “you can take a seat in the desk chair over there, no one else is here so you’re okay to stay whilst i work on your car”

“thank you again sungchan” you sat down on the chair that was in front of the small desk just a little away from him, it looked like their reception, or well, what could be seen as a a reception in the small space that wasn’t taken by the car, their own interpretation of one perhaps. there was a laptop on the metal desk, the initial on the screen said s.e, you cursed yourself for being so nosy but you couldn’t help it. “i know it’s not ideal to be working so late” you looked back over at the man who had now popped open the hood of your car.

“it’s no problem” sungchan’s arms flexed as he lifted the bonnet up. you felt both your stomach churn and your mouth water at the site, there was no way you were going to be able to keep sane “my friend eunseok owns the place, it’s just me and him who work here. you sounded desperate when you called so i thought i’d stay behind to help you whilst he went home” eunseok must be s.e, you thought.

“small business?” sungchan laughed, hands working on something near the engine of your car as he looked over at you, quickly noticing the way your eyes were glued to his arm.

“you could say that, we’re just some dodgy, side of the road garage that people think is a scam” you did think it was a scam “but we’re genuine people, we’d never hurt anybody” he looked back down at your car as he continued working on it. “what do you do? you said you work all day”

“family owned restaurant not that far from here, a few people have been away these past few weeks so i’ve had to fill in for them. been working everyday so i never got the chance to properly get my car checked”

“do you enjoy it?”

“i don’t dislike it, it’s just not what i want to do forever”

“what do you want to do forever?” you leaned back in the chair, it moved slightly due to the wheels.

“i don’t know, something exciting” sungchan laughed at your response before letting you continue “anything from an air hostess to a porn star at this point”

“you think being a porn star would be exciting?” sungchan stood up straight, reaching over to get a tool from his box, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. you struggled to tear your own away from his arms though, not being able to stop thinking about how strong he looked.

“not a full blown famous porn star who does coke and fucks guys with medically enlarged dicks” sungchan laughed again, you were begining it really enjoy that sound “an amateur one who works for herself and only has one partner”

“well, if you ever need a partner i wouldn’t mind getting a part time job” you giggled, giggled, at his response, you almost wanted to slap yourself for having such a response.

“i’ll keep it in mind” you thought for a moment “if you ever need a receptionist, just let me know”

“are you trying to recreate a receptionist and mechanic porn?”

“no, i think maybe a porn where the customer thanks her mechanic by giving him an extra special tip would be more appropriate” sungchan poked his tongue against his inner cheek, chuckling at what you were suggesting.

“well sweetheart” he stood up and closed the hood of your car, walking over to where you sat and dropping your keys onto the desk before leaning over you to use the laptop. he was so close to you, the top of his tank top fell down as he leaned over, revealing his toned stomach to your eyes. your thighs pressed together on their own, fuck he was hot. sungchan pressed a few buttons on his mouse before looking down at you, he was towering over you from where he was positioned, hair falling into his eyes “that’s a video i’d rather we kept between ourselves, no one would want to share a pretty little thing like you”

“are there cameras in here?” your voice was quieter than before, sungchan shook his head.

“not one” your eyes fell from his face to his crotch, this was the first time you’d noticed that he was hard, you could see the outline of his cock through his overalls. he was big. your eyes flicked back up to his face before he leaned down and kissed you. it was somewhat of an awkward kiss, you’d imagined the position was making his strain his back due to how tall he was, but it still felt incredible. it was wet, messy, intense, it told you that he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. he pulled away not long after, hand reaching down to cup your cheek.

“you know what i think, sweetheart” it sounded as if there was real honey oozing from his voice, you were hooked.

“hmm?” your hands went up to his shoulders, fingers wandering down the skin of his arms, stopping at his bicep. you had to bite back a moan when you felt them flex under your grip “what do you think?” your eyes stayed on his, mouth going dry at the sight of his features growing sharper.

“i think” his hand fell from your cheek to your jaw, he held it softly in his hand before tightening his grip and pulling you forward harshly, your hands went to his chest, his lip were close to yours “i think a girl as sweet and put together as you, secretly likes to be fucked rough” you whimpered at his words, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up off of the chair, pressing you back against the desk when he did. the metal dug into your back but you didn’t care, you were too distracted by sungchan.

“and what if i do?” he leaned forward, tongue poking out and touching the base of your neck, he licked a slow, wet stripe up the skin until he reached just below your ear.

“you should let me do it” your fingers curled around the thin fabric of his tank top.

“please” sungchan laughed against your neck, lips parting so he could press them against it.

“who knew you’d be so easy” he spoke in between wet kisses against your skin.

“i don’t sleep around, sungchan” he lifted his head, hand still holding your jaw. he brought his thumb up to press against your lips, you parted your lips to welcome it into your mouth.

“oh? so i’m a special circumstance”

“i just” you whined, his hand fell from your waist to grip your ass, thumb pulling out of your mouth to press against your bottom lip, wetting it “need you so bad”

“so you’re easy for me?”

“just for you” it came out as a whimper as he squeezed your ass again.

“good girl” his fingers left your jaw and joined his other hand on your ass, he lifted you to sit on the desk, pushing your legs apart so he could stand between them. he pulled you forward until you were sat on the edge of it, chest flat against his as he kissed you again. your hands went to his hair, fingers tangling in the messy strands. you couldn’t help but gasp against his lips when he pressed himself against you, the feeling of his cock against you made your legs feel weak, you were lucky that you were sat down otherwise you were sure you would’ve fell.

sungchan’s lips were rough against yours, his tongue felt hot in your mouth, pressing against yours. he had dominated you with such simple actions, it left you in anticipation for more. from what you’d seen already, you knew he wasn’t going to disappoint, especially not with how small he had already made you feel.

his fingers hooked into the hem of your trousers, trailing under the thin strap of your underwear in the process. he pulled them off of your skin, easily liting you up to pull them off of your legs before sitting you back on the desk. you winced at the feeling of the cold metal against your heated skin, sungchan laughed, letting his lips break from yours as he spread your legs apart a little wider, finger dropping down to press into your slit.

“soaked” he tutted, a smile playing on his lips “want me that bad don’t you, sweetheart” it wasn’t a question, he was telling you that he knew how bad you wanted him and he wasn’t wrong. he slowly slid his finger up to your clit, circling the swollen nub, pressing down on it, you squirmed. sungchan was watching you carefully, how you breathed heavily when he put pressure on your clit, how your fingers trailed down and dug into his arms when he pressed two fingers against it and began rubbing it in steadier, quicker circles. you whimpered when he placed his lips onto yours again, nails digging into his flesh when his fingers moved down your cunt and pressed against your hole.

he pushed his tongue into your mouth at the same time that he pushed his middle finger inside of you. sungchan groaned against your lips when he felt you wrap around his finger, so warm and wet, so inviting. he couldn’t wait to feel the way your walls would squeeze around his cock, you were already such a good girl, he knew you’d take all of him so well. his finger pressed deeper inside of you, your fingers curling into his hair at the intrusion.

“feel so little” he moaned against your lips, finger thrusting into you a few times “gonna feel like heaven when you’re struggling to take my cock” his words, along with the feeling of his second finger pushing into you, made you whimper, you found yourself spreading your thighs further apart, pressing yourself closer to him just to feel his fingers deeper inside of you. sungchan broke the kiss and buried his head in your neck, fingers curling up as he attached his lips to your neck, teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh. you moaned, walls clenching around his fingers due to the slight pain of his teeth.

he pulled his fingers out of you relatively quickly, not letting you savour the moment of them for much longer. you could only whine when he did, already hating not having some part of him inside of you. sungchan laughed into the kiss before he broke it, letting his lips slowly part from yours, a string of salvia still connecting the two of you. he looked at you for a few moments, eyes focused on the way your wet, swollen lips were parted. deep, heavy breaths falling from them. he wanted his cock between them.

his need got the better of him and he pulled you off of the desk, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he did. sungchan knew how easy it would’ve been for him to simply slide his cock into you whilst you were sat at the desk, but he was too enthralled with the idea of sliding his cock between your pretty lips. he would’ve done anything in that moment to see you looking up at him with your sweet eyes, full of tears as you take his thick cock down your throat. my good girl, he hummed to himself at the thought of it, the thought of what he could train you into becoming if you let him. but that was for another day, not of the day you just met.

“get on your knees for me, won’t you sweetheart?” you didn’t respond verbally, you just found yourself instinctively following his words, letting your knees fall to the cold, hard concrete of the floor below you. it was going to leave you aching and probably bruised, but the sheer amount of need you felt inside of you for sungchan clouded your better judgement. your mouth watered at the thought of having his cock on your tongue and that was enough for you to ignore any pain “so compliant and sweet” his hand found its way to your jaw, thumb pressing against your bottom lip “such a good girl”.

sungchan was still fully clothed when you sank to your knees, you waited for him to let go of your jaw before you changed that. fingers finger the sleeves of his overalls that he had tied around his waist in order to keep them on his body, they fell to the floor with ease, revealing the bare lower half of his body to your surprised eyes. you hadn’t expected him to have nothing else on under them, it shocked you that you were greeted with his hard, bare cock but you couldn’t complain, seeing him only made you want to taste him more.

“you’re so big” it came out as a whimper as you wrapped your hand around his cock, sungchan had to hold himself back from moaning when he saw how small your hand looked around it. he couldn’t find it in himself to take his eyes off of you, especially not when you took his cock into your mouth, lips wrapping around the thick head. sungchan groaned as your warm mouth consumed him, hands finding your hair immediately, needing something to grip onto as you sucked his cock.

you wanted take all of him into your mouth as soon as possible, feeling an undeniable craving for his cock that needed to be helped, one that could only be fixed by swallowing around his cock and getting to taste every drop of precum that seeps out. you got what you wanted too, once his fingers found your hair they stayed there and it wasn’t long until his hips were bucking forward against you, cock inching deeper into your mouth with each thrust. he still kept his eyes on you, mesmerised by how eagerly you were taking him.

“sweet fucking mouth was made for my cock fuck” he groaned as he spoke, fucking your mouth a little quicker, squeezing your hair a little tighter as he did, he didn’t want to cum though, he couldn’t, he needed to wait until he had your cunt wrapped around his cock first. “if im cumming today then i’m cumming inside of your sweet little cunt, not your mouth, sweetheart” his grip on your hair tightened a little, he pulled you to your feet by it, the action made you wince but it only made you wetter. the roughness, the manhandling, it’s something you had never experienced quite to this intensity before but you loved every second of it, even more so because it was from sungchan.

you were unsure on what he was doing when he moved you, but you quickly realised when he pressed your front down against the hood of your car, hand only leaving your hair once the side of your face was pressed against the cold metal. his hand found it’s place on your back, other hand wrapping around his cock so he could guide himself into you.

“hope every time you get into this thing you think about the way i fucked you over it” he pressed the tip of his cock against your cunt, head slowly inching its way inside of you. the stretch made you moan, you desperately searched for something to grab on to but you found nothing, instead your hands balled together in fists near your head “sweet little thing like you needs to be thinking about how she got fucked brainless over her own car” sungchan pushed his cock deeper inside of you.

you could feel every inch of his cock, every vein that bulged out was pressing into your walls due to how tightly you were clenching around him. sungchan thought the way you were reacting to his cock was cute, god he needed to wreck you. he had to press his cock all the way inside of you, he was too curious to find out just how perfectly you’d wrap around him and how sweet you’d sound when you take him. well, you took him perfectly. to him, your pussy felt as if it was made especially for him, as if god took his time creating you so you’d be able to take him perfectly.

he noticed the way your hands were balled in fists, how you still manically searched for something, anything to hold on to as he slowly moved dragged his cock between your walls. he leaned over you, cock shifting deeper when he did, his hands wrapped around your wrists, one in each hand, before he stood up properly. he had your arms stretched out behind your back, letting your hands wrap around his as he thrusted into you a little harder, testing the waters. he groaned as you clenched around his, wetness seeping out of you as he thrusted into you again.

the side of your face was still pressed against the hood of your car as he began fucking you properly, enjoying the way your desperate moans echoed throughout the garage, they mixed so beautifully with the sound of your cunt getting fucked stupid. wet, raw, squelching sounds came from where his cock was entering you repeatedly, the sounds bounced off of the walls and back to sungchan’s ears. any sound that came from you was beautiful, it took everything in him to not press his cock deeper inside of you and spill his cum into you then and there.

though, sungchan knew he wasn’t going to last long, there was no way he could with the way you were squeezing around him. the feeling of your cunt as well as the feeling of your lips from earlier on had him edging close with each thrust. but he wanted to fuck you for just a little bit longer, wanted to have his skin slapping against yours and feel your nails dig into his flesh a little more. you were lost in the way he was fucking you, everything felt so good, so intense. he stretched you out perfectly, pounded the tip of his cock against every part of you that had your thighs shaking and your cunt begging for a release.

you were more focused on him cumming though, wanting to feel him spill every last drop of his cum inside of you, wanting him to fill you up until it was dripping out of you. it would be a memory you’d never forget, so you wanted it out of him as soon as possible.

“sungchannie” you whined, head spinning at the sound of your skin slapping together “need your cum” sungchan let out what sounded like a moan, it was delicate and pretty yet so sinful “need you to fill me up” your voice was completely broken as you spoke to him, it just drove him to the edge. sungchan moaned when he let himself go, cock still fucking into you relentless as he let his cum shoot inside of you, fingers holding onto your wrists in what felt like a death grip. he’d tried his hardest to look down at where the two of you connected but he found himself throwing his head back, finally letting his orgasm take control of all of him.

he was silent as he stilled inside of you, the only thing you heard from him was heavy breathing. you weren’t sure what he was thinking but you were glad he’d given you what you wanted. but what he wanted, was to make you cum. there was no way he could let you leave without cumming, what kind of gentleman would he be if he sent such a pretty little thing on her way without having at least one orgasm.

it happened all too fast for you to process. you felt empty when sungchan pulled his cock out of you, it felt cold, but that changed when you felt his fingers press against your cum soaked cunt. he’d dropped to his knees, both hands moving to grab the sides of your ass so he could press his face against your pussy, tongue slipping out of his mouth so he could taste you. he moaned against you, lips being covered in your slick and his cum as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on the swollen nub and letting his tongue flick over it. with how well he fucked you, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“sungchan, fuck” you felt the knot in your stomach grow tighter, his tongue never stopped flicking against you, lips never leaving your clit as he let you cum into his mouth sungchan savoured every drop of your cum mixed together, groaning at the taste the two of you had created. it took him a few seconds to stand up, hands coming down to pull you off of your car and settle you in front of him. he looked down at you, a playful smile dancing across his lips.

“might have to call you up about that receptionist job, i know my friend would love you”.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

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#✧ melody posts #riize smut #sungchan smut #✧ hard hours ✧

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gilverrwrites · 3 months

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Skinny Dipping

Pairing: Dean WInchester/F!Reader

Authors note: This has the been the hardest, and biggest of my re-mastered fics so far. I’m pretty sure the original was an amalgamation of imagines from supernaturalimagine and dirtysupernaturalimagines but I couldn’t even guess at which imagines exactly. This is like, my 4th public/semi-public fic in like 3 months, I’m starting to feel like this is a kink I didn’t know I had. Also, Metallica have not cancelled anything, don’t worry. (and I don’t know jack about cars, people that do, please don’t come for me, I really did try, k, thanks, bye.) 💖

Plot: Reader is a mechanic who Dean's been checking in on, and checking out for a while now. Dean has the perfect excuse to see her after baby breaks down nearby.

Rating: M/18+

Words: 2936

Content: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, reckless drunken/tipsy behaviour, being submerged underwater, skinny dipping, teasing, brief retraining, size-difference, dry-humping, (or I guess wet-humping), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, water sex, mild angst.

Please remember: If you never try, you’ll never know.

You switch off the radio, listening to the purr of your car's ignition as you pull up behind a familiar black impala. It was a beauty, but it was nothing compared to your ‘70 boss. You watched as its owner climbed out of the front seat and headed towards you.

Its owner being your old friend Dean Winchester. He and his brother had saved you from a coven of witches a few years back, and ever since he’s been popping back into your life every few months. ‘Working on a case nearby’, ‘just passing through’, ‘baby needs a new compressor’. Every visit he laid the flirting on thicker. You weren’t sure if he was just joking around with you, or if he was serious, or if he saw you as a challenge. Either way you’d been making him work for it. Today it just so happened that his car had broken down a few miles out from your shop, the perfect excuse to see you on a Friday night.

You were pulled from your train of thought by a light tapping on your window. You snapped your head to the side to see Dean hovering over your door. His familiar smile set your heart racing. Okay, so maybe his seduction tactics were working, he was hot, who could blame you?

“Is there a problem, officer?” You joked, rolling down your window.

Dean rested an arm on the hood and leaned in. “No, no, just a routine check.” You knew he impersonated officers and agents all the time, but you hadn’t seen it firsthand. It was impressive how easily he slid into character.

“I am, however, gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle for a full strip search.”

Act ruined.

“At least buy me drink first.” You quipped.

“If you can help me, I’ll buy you a whole dinner.” He winked and opened the car door from the outside. You raised your brows at him but climbed out anyway before making a b-line for the impala’s engine.

“What’s wrong?” You directed your question to the car in the same tone you would address a small child or animal, gently rubbing a hand across its roof as you walked beside it. "Has someone been neglecting you?”

“Hey!” Dean barked, clearly offended. “I take better care of this baby than I do myself.”

At that you looked back over at him. He’d forgone his usual flannel today, leaving him in a pair of jeans that hugged him in all the right places and a grey t-shirt that clung tight and accentuated his broad chest. By the time your eyes reached his face, Dean was sporting a wicked grin, clearly ecstatic to have caught you checking him out. You avoid his smug gaze by popping the hood of his car to take a look at the engine.

“You weren’t kidding.” You whistled; Dean really was taking care of the thing. The motor was almost gleaming. You felt his warm hand suddenly press against your lower back and turn to look up at him. The expression on his face could only be described as that of a proud father.

“Yeah.” He agreed before pointing to the main battery with his free hand: “This is the problem. It’s busted.”

“Ah, you’re gonna need a new one. I’m surprised you don’t keep a spare.”

“Yeah.” To his credit, he looked pretty sheepish. “I normally do, but guess I forgot when the last one went out.”

“I don’t have one.” You said, pursing your lips to express your sympathies.

Dean didn’t respond, biting his lip while he waited for you to continue.

“But I could give you a jump start if you gotta head out soon.” You bring the hood back down and start heading to the boot of your car.

“No good,” Dean calls after you. “I’m not in a rush, but I don’t have enough gas to get me where I’m going.”

“Well… I’ve got a guy. He’s a few towns over. He’s closed at this time.” You inform as you open your boot and pull out your tow rope, flashing it to Dean with a smile. I can tow you into town for tonight, then drive you there and back in the morning.”

“I knew I could count on you!”

An hour later, you’d slowly but surely managed to drag Dean and his baby back into town, argued with him about him staying at a motel or on your couch (you’d won), and successfully swindled him into buying you that dinner he’d promised. Dinner being take-put pizza and over-priced ice-cream. Now, the two of you were sitting in your backyard, sharing the aforementioned ice-cream and an old bottle of Jack Daniels you’d pulled from the back of your cupboards.

“So,” Dean began, his speech slurred by the spoon hanging from his mouth. How’s the garage doin’?”

You take a sip of the JD and proceed to suck on your teeth as you consider how to respond.

“Honestly, bad. Ever since that shitty corporate place set up shop down the road, we’ve been going downhill.” You punctuate your statement with another sip from the bottle before offering it to Dean. “I’m keeping it up and running by tooth and claw, but truthfully, it’s probably only got a few months left in it.”

He gives you a sombre smile as he exchanges the tub of ice cream for the bottle. It's a touchy subject, but you can’t help admiring the way his neck moves as he tilts his head back to drink. You avert your eyes by scooping up the last bit of cold, sugary goodness and placing the empty container on the grass beside you.

“That sucks.” He places a hand on your shoulder, attempting to offer comfort. “That really sucks. Do you have a back-up plan?”

You grab the bottle back from Dean and take another sip before answering.

“I dunno. Sometimes I think about doing what you do. Kinda.” You begin. You don’t miss the way his entire body stiffens before you clarify. “Without the monsters. Just hit the road, get drunk at every bar in the country, visit Disney, become Metallica groupie, an-”

“You know they cancelled that tour, right?” Dean butts in.

“WHAT?” You shake his hand off and stare up at him in disbelief.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. The smile on his face is anything but sympathetic.

“Bastards.” You cross your arms and pout dramatically. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but the laugh that escapes Dean's lips is magical, and you can’t help but join in. When he returns his hand to your shoulder, this time reaching for the furthest from him, thus wrapping himself around you, your skin tingles, and you let yourself fall into him.

As the two of you slowly seize your giggling, Dean checks his watch. He quirks an evocative brow at you when he speaks, “It’s getting late. Maybe we should head inside?”

You mull it over, dramatically swaying your head from side to side before you voice your decision. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

You stand up, offering your hand to Dean, who eyes you sceptically. Nevertheless, he takes the bait, placing his hand in yours and allowing you to lead him toward the footpath just outside your garden.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks, and you can sense the caution in his voice. You assume it’s the hunter in him being paranoid, and you know for a fact that his free hand is hovering over the knife he keeps tucked into the back of his jeans at all times.

“I’m taking you here,” you answer as you pull him through the last set of trees and onto the shore of the local lake. You scan the surrounding area as you kick off your shoes. Satisfied that nobody is nearby, you start pulling off your trousers.

As you bend down to pull your socks off, you look up at Dean. He’s staring back at you intensely, mouth open, cheeks pink.

When you start pulling your top over your head you feel his fingers lightly brush against your hips. He’d stepped closer, and you’re tempted to touch him back or to reach up and kiss him. But you don’t. Instead, you throw your top over his head and sprint for the water.

“RACE YOU!” You challenge, discarding your bra and panties before you reach the water and forward dive in. Dean follows you moments later with a cannonball that splashes your face just as you’re resurfacing from your own dive.

“Fuck! That’s colder than I expected.” You yell to him.

��I’ll warm you up.” Dean replies as he swims close to you. You let his hands return to your hips, not expecting it when he dunks you back under the water.

You cough and splurge as he brings you back up. You flail your arms around until you find the top of his head, and you cling to him for dear life, but Deans is stronger, taller, and he’s found solid ground to plant his feet onto below the water. He escapes your grip and throws you under again.

“STOP. MERCY!” You yell when you come back up. This time, you use your legs for safety, wrapping them around his hips. You'd be safe if you could just get a grip on his arms. You’d been too distracted to notice his erection until you feel it poking at you. You’re about to make a comment about it, but Dean speaks first.

“You’re cute when you’re scared.” He laughs, you silence him with a swift but playful punch to the chest. In defence he grabs at your wrists, able to trap both in just one of his hands. His other hand slides up your arms, over your shoulder, your neck, until he reaches your cheek. He leisurely rubs his thumb against your wet skin.

You stay like that for a while, watching each other, before you finally ask, “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Without any further hesitation Dean lunges forward, forcing his lips against yours. His kiss is hard and animalistic; he skips straight past the pecking and teasing to roaming your mouth with his tongue. His fingers leave your cheek and weave into your hair, holding you against him, his stubble scratches against your skin.

In a play for dominance, you dart your own tongue out, grazing his chapped lips, but he denies you. Instead, he pulls away from your lips, refocusing his attention on nipping and kissing at your jaw, neck, and collarbone.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been imagining this.” He utters onto your skin.

“What, this exact scenario?” You joke.

“Not exactly.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and the gust of air against your skin makes you tremble.

“Then what?” You challenge. Your inability to touch him is frustrating you. In an attempt to stimulate him back, you grip your legs around him tighter, using him as leverage to grind against him. The tip of his cock doesn’t quite reach your clit, but its added pressure helps it spread your lips. “Tell me.”

He drops his hand from your head, and cups it under your asscheek. Firmly guiding you up and down, assisting you in rutting against his cock. Shakey breaths become grunts, and after a few seconds he releases your wrists so that he can grip you with both hands. Free to move, you shimmy down his body until you can feel his dick brush against your clit with each grind.

“Come on, tell me.” You plead, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, your grip tightening every time he hits your sweet spot. You know he's not shy, that he’s just getting lost in the feeling, and it pains you to say it, but eventually, you taunt. “I’m not gonna fuck you if you don’t tell me.”

He whimpers at your empty threat but finally confesses. “Just you. Your body, under me. Every night, I think about how you’d look, how you’d feel squirming, moaning my name.”

“Fuck. That’s hot.” You reply and he smiles as you plant your lips against his once again.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks, speech slurred as he tries to speak between kisses.

“Yes.” You respond instantly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Please fuck me, Dean.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His grip on your ass is like a vice as he lifts you up slightly. You both work in sync to position yourselves just right until he lowers you onto his cock, slowly pressing into you. There’s some resistance as he stretches your walls, but the sound of his whispered praises helps you relax until he finally bottoms out, stretching you in all the right places.

“Fuck, that feels so good. You took me so well.” He affirms, and even though he’s already balls deep, you can’t help the heat that spreads across your face.

He begins lifting you again before you can respond, sliding you up and down his cock in slow, steady movements. You grip tight to his shoulders and hips with your hands and knees, using them as leverage points to help move your body up and down. Each thrush is slow and shallow, but Dean seems to be loving it; his head rolls back, and he releases breathy moans with every rock.

“Shit.” You shout, holding tighter still when Dean unexpectedly shifts below you, repositioning his legs to a sturdier position. You watch through hazy eyes as he reaches up and grips your hand, before guiding it down the tight space between your bodies. You get the message quickly, and begin rubbing your clit in lazy circles, keeping in time with the pace of Dean's cock.

The added stimulation had your toes curling in no time. When your pussy starts clenching around Dean’s cock, you see the sudden concentration in his face. His brow furrows, and he bites his lip as he focuses on riding you through your orgasm. The sight was the final push you need to take you over the edge.

“Fuck, Dean. Fuck fuck fuck, that feels good.” You cry out as you hit your climax.

“Keep saying my name, baby.” Dean begs as he continues rolling your hips together. You feel his body shake as he starts to struggle with your combined weights as he chases his own release.

You try to assist, desperately pumping yourself up and down despite the newfound sensitivity as you chant his name.

“Fuck, yes baby.” You feel the twitch of his cock inside you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck as he hits his orgasm, rutting his cock as deep as he can as he cums inside you. “oohhh yeah.”

You stay in position for a long time following, holding on tight to each other, listening to each other's breathing as you come back down, until Dean guides your body backwards so that you’re face to face again. “How you feelin’?”

“Good.” You reply with a smile.

“Good.” He grins at you mischievously before plunging backwards into the water, taking you with him.

“So, was that everything you imagined it to be?”

He purses his lips in thought before teasingly responding. “Eh, it wasn’t bad.”

You both laugh as you lay your head down on Dean's bare chest; his arms envelop your body as you both blankly look up at the stars. You play with the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from him when you emerged from the water and re-dressed.

“You should do it.” Dean says when you're both fully settled down.

“Do what?” You query, popping your head up to look at him, unsure what he’s talking about.

“Hit the road.” He clarifies, revisiting your earlier conversation. “I mean, life on the road isn’t easy or sustainable, trust me, I know.”

“But…” You prompt, knowing fully that he wasn’t going to stop there.

“But it could be fun for a while. If it’s what you wanna do. Hell, I’d totally be a roadie if… you know.”

“I know,” You reply. You’re smiling at him, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The reminder of your failing business stung, but you didn’t want it to spoil your night. You lean forward, caressing his cheek; his stubble feels rough against your fingers. You gently pull his face forward and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I might. I probably will. If it comes to it.”

“I can’t come with you.” He says when you lean away. You hadn’t expected him to want to come with you. Hoped, maybe? But you knew it wasn’t a possibility.

“I know.” You repeat.

He carefully reaches up to run his hand across your damp hair as he pulls you in for another kiss. This one is longer, softer than any you’d shared all night. When you’re done, he lets his head fall back against the ground, and you perch yourself against his chest once more.

“You’ll still call me though, right?”

“Always.” He replies instantly. “You’re my best girl. Well, second-best girl.”

“The car?” You ask deadpan. Of course, the car is his number one.

“Who else?” He replies shamelessly.

You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, entwined in each other’s arms, spent and damp under the stars, until eventually, you feel your lids growing heavy. You fight it for a while, willing yourself to remain awake, until eventually your tiredness wins out. You cuddle closer into the warmth of Dean's chest as you fall asleep.

#dean winchester x reader #supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #dean winchester smut #dean winchester imagine #gilverrwrites

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tadfools · 9 months

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I saw a post that was like ‘these are the cars the bg3 companions would have’ but they were all rich people shit so here’s my version just for funzies

Shadowheart has a Subaru and if you know why then you know why. There’s a moon sun catcher hanging from the review mirror and on the back there’s one of those coexist bumper stickers (it was there when she bought it but she doesn’t take it off cause it might damage the paint under it)

Karlach has her mom’s old beat up a Honda Civic. It starts rattling if it goes over 90, one of the seatbelt is being held together with duct tape, it smells like crayons, and the check engine light is always on. But good god is it going to get you where you need to go

Halsin has a jeep Liberty/Cherokee, it’s always covered in mud and it smells like a wet dog…. He doesn’t have a dog

Lae’zel has a Volkswagen bug. It’s small, dignified, economical even! (Kinda)

Wyll had a Toyota pickup from the 90’s. It’s not much but it was the first car he bought that wasn’t with his dad’s money, he loves it like a son. It’s name is Alberto

Rich kid Gale would drive a 68 mustang if he ever left the house. I love the man but he would be one of those people who has a fancy car just to say he has a fancy car and doesn’t have the first clue on how to take care of it

Jaheria has half a dozen kids at any given moment and has a minivan. Yes, she does have one of those stick figure family window decals. There’s a soccer ball sized dent on the passenger door

Minsc has a mini cooper. A mini cooper that has more scratches and dings than it should but a mini cooper nonetheless. It got left in the sun way too long and has one of those fading spots on the roof.

Astarion is the proud owner of a Prius. Her name is Natalie

Also Withers’ has the car from that 70’s show

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #gale of waterdeep #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #lae’zel #karlach #karlach cliffgate #jaheria #minsc #withers bg3

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ami-journal · 1 year

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Vehicle Engine Number Check |How to find the Engine number for a used vehicle?

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ghouljams · 3 months

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ghoul

ghoul you keep hitting the mark on every one of my kinks

monstrous size differences, seeing ur person as holy, ovul-

its like ur in my brain get out of there before u see something that starts turning these rough military men into men that fear what i want to do to them (the erotica of cyborgs, mechs and their maintenance handler just DOES something to me. someone just turning my screws and fixing my internal wires while i look down at them feeling up my most vulnerable parts. my engineer knowing every external and internal piece of me, my repairman knowing exactly which metal plates are bothering me and which screws need to be tightened more often and which parts i won’t say need fixing but he knows, i want to be known wholly and entirely by someone who can fix me and make me into their own theseus’ ship)

The eroticism of the machine.... thinking about android!Ghost....

He always seems to be hanging around when you're working on other droids or laboring with mechs. He checks over various weapons while you sit crosslegged on the tiled floor surrounded by neatly organized plates and screws. You can feel his eyes on you, but every time you look up at him, he's studying a trigger switch or tipping a gun barrel this way and that. You try to keep your attention on the open chest cavity in front of you. Your fingers trail over wires and trace circuits, looking for the too tight screws and miss-laid paths. It's delicate work, work that takes years of practice to get good at even with natural skill.

You twist to check the diagnostics window running on your bulky tablet, the cords running between it and one of your favorite droids humming with electric life. Binary flickers over the screen, replaced by strings of code as the machine parses and translates subroutines and operating systems. You squint at the glowing green letters, eyes flicking through code as you push your finger against the screen to scroll back up. You lean closer to the open cavity, flick your safety goggles down as you turn your attention back to your hands.

"I don't want to have to shut you down," You tell the droid, "So let me know if your servos start locking up." The droid gives you a thumbs up from their position on the floor.

"Isn't it safer shuttin' 'em down?" Ghost hums from the other side of the room. You ignore him, flicking the spark on your torch until it lights. You need to rewire the auxiliary movement board for the right leg, maybe reprogram the routines that are making it twitchy. You doubt anyone else noticed this bot starting to drag its foot when it walked, but you did.

"Five doesn't like being shut off," You explain, heating the metal connecting the wires to their "hip", "Says the lost time cuts productivity." Which is as close as you've ever heard a bot get to expressing an opinion. Even then saying they don't "like" being shut off is a stretch. Machines don't "like" or "dislike" anything, they simply are. You prod at the loosened wires with a pair of tweezers, pulling them from their places and examining the frayed ends. Definitely need replacing.

"Suppose I can understand that," Ghost grumbles. Again you ignore him. You don't know what he's doing, trying to bait you into a conversation or engage your curiosity, two things you can't afford when you're doing detail work. You solder the other end of the wires, rolling your shoulders to try and get some of the tightness out of them. You really should work on your posture, you're sure you look like a shrimp curled over your work, but you need the leverage.

You sit back, inspecting the freed wires, mentally tallying their length and checking the screen readouts. You set about snipping and stripping new lengths of wire, push a few buttons on your little screen, and feel your shoulders hike up to your ears as you lean to get the new parts installed. You think part of your fascination with machines comes from how repairable they are. You've long since come to terms with the fact that detaching your shoulders and giving them a good scrub down isn't actually possible. Not unless you want to look into cybernetics for yourself, and with the grade of parts the military offers you think you're better off eu natural.

"Still good five?" You ask, soldering in the new wires, you glance at the screen, watching the routines for speech zip across the green.

"Yes."

You smile to yourself. It looks like everything is running normally up top, that's reassuring. You weren't sure if this was a systematic issue or a parts issue, never know 100% until you open up whoever you're working on. You mentally scroll through your project list as you run the wires from the metal "hip" to the central data column. You scratch your tweezers against a bit of flashing, frowning. That shouldn't be there. You wave your torch over the distorted metal, and trying to find the defect. You hear a soft 'click, click, click' like nails flicking against each other as you heat the area.

You're jerked back by your collar as the bot jerks, its defensive system snapping like a bear trap over its open chest. Your heart hammers in your chest, your tools still tightly clenched in your hands, and your breath coming quick with adrenaline fueled fear. Ghost hauls you up to your feet like picking up a kitten, all titanium and inhuman strength getting you to standing. He leaves you to swipe the repair pad from the floor, the wires stringing it to the android shredded as cleanly as your neck would have been.

"Still stubborn enough to get yourself killed," He grumbles, shaking his head, the red glow of his cameras seems almost disappointed under the white skull paint. He tosses you the pad and you fumble to catch it. "Inter-system problem, shut 'em down." It's an order, his voice carrying all the authority it should as your superior officer.

You nod quickly, swallow some of the dryness in your mouth, and punch new numbers onto your little computer. "Um, thanks," You manage, watching him re-assemble his rifle with practices precision.

"Don't mention it." He replies, and you get the feeling he means that as an order too. Don't mention it, don't go spreading around that he saved your neck. Don't try to thank him again and he shoulders the rifle and pushes past you out of the landing bay.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #android!ghost #cyberpunk au #mechanic!reader

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toxicanonymity · 5 months

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The Raid, Part 2.

panty-dropping javi art by @bonezone44

8k words | dark!javi x f!reader x dark!steve | The Raid SUMMARY: Javi and his partner get you settled in. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon (captivity & more), kidnapping, drugs, mild withdrawal, manhandling, sharing, degradation, praise, homoerotic tension, thigh fucking, somnophilia (javi), p in v (steve, but Javi's involved), orgasm denial, cumplay, size kink if you squint, mfm adjacent, hillbilly cock. Javi & Steve RECS: Lie Still by @milla-frenchy , Crossing Lines by @lunitawrites , Helping Hands and Polaroids by @clawdee , You can be the boss by @girlboybug . TY all!! A/N: Could've been 2 parts (4.4k/3.6k) so there's a divider (ty @cafekitsune) if you want 2 reads. Ty @debbiequinn for your sleep thot and @ghoulettesinspace for your styling thots. Tagged people who asked for part 2 at the end.

✨NEXT: Javi isn't home - Steve PWP.

The DEA has left the scene, aside from Javi and his tall, blonde partner. The partner managed to catch your (ex) boyfriend while Javi was “supervising” you. Javi has given his men a talking-to and told them you were never there. With a strong grip on your arm, he's dragged you to a Ford Bronco where he's now forcing you into the back seat.

"My shirt," you beg.

Javi shrugs mercilessly. "Should've put it on before you ran." He glances at your bra before beginning to shut the car door.

He and his partner talk outside the car. Javi stands with his hands tucked into the top of his vest. The taller man leans with one hand just above the back seat window and his other hand on his hip. He ducks down to look at you, but doesn't acknowledge you. He asks Javi, "You sure we need to be drivin' around with her half dressed?"

"What'd I say?”

The blonde agent holds his hands up in mock defense. “No Carrillo, no questions." He walks around front to the driver's seat. You have a better view of him once he's seated. He's strong, like Javi. He has a thick mustache, too.

Javi gets in the passenger seat and puts on a voice like he's teaching a class and would rather be anywhere else. He addresses you by name, then says, "This is Steve Murphy."

Steve nods in the rear view mirror, and your eyes meet. Then he turns on the engine and asks Javi, "safe house?"

Javi tilts his head back and smooths his mustache. “Mm,” he contemplates.

Steve offers, "I'll head to the closest one."

Javi answers, "No. My place."

"Yours?"

"Yeah, you know, the place I live? Right downstairs?"

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Alright." After a few moments of silence, Steve asks, "informant?"

"Eh," Javi ponders. "We'll see." He puts a cigarette in his mouth, then takes the cigarette lighter out of its socket and lights up. Javi reaches down to crank the window open a little more, then exhales, aiming the smoke outside. He asks, "We need to worry about Romeo?" as he hands the cigarette to Steve.

“Nah,” Steve replies as he accepts the cigarette. He looks at the tip of the filter and takes one puff before handing it back to Javi. Steve exhales out the window, then reaches back and puts his hand behind Javi's seat to put the car in reverse.

"Nah,” Steve repeats. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that dumbass. . .Told him we'd fuck her in front of him, know what he said?”

“What?” Javi asks, bemused.

“He said go ahead." You’re not surprised.

"Ouch," Javi pretends to sympathize, then looks back to check on you. "Sorry, sweetheart."

—-

Once they get you to the apartment, the first thing they do is take you to the bathroom. You have to walk through a bedroom to get there. In the middle of the bedroom, there's a bed with leather restraints. It makes your stomach turn to look at.

Steve’s eyes fixate on it and he asks Javi, "You kept this stuff?"

Javi retorts, "Where'd you think it went, the Salvation Army?”

Javi pauses to take off his tactical vest. “Let’s wash that place off her.”

“C’mon,” Steve gently urges you by the arm toward the bathroom. You go in the restroom and stand, awkwardly awaiting instructions. You lean your back against the wall and the handcuffs drag.

Steve plugs the drain and turns on the water. Javi walks in, takes out the keys and uncuffs you. Steve retires to the doorway and leans against it, tucking his hands into the top of his tactical vest and watching. He seems to take up the whole frame.

There's a toilet next to the bathtub/shower combo. Javi closes the lid and sits down, facing you, and manspreads in his tight jeans. His shirt is stained with sweat, and the glimmer of a gold chain catches your eye on his tan chest. Javi pats his thigh closest to the tub. You sit on his thigh, facing the door and Steve. Javi strokes your face, and you look down at the floor, cheeks warm, heart racing.

“It’s okay,” Javi tells you, “Vamos a ponerte limpia y lista para una vida nueva.” (We’re gonna get you clean and ready for a new life). He unclasps your bra and you let it fall off into your lap. Javi tosses it to Steve, saying, “Check the closet out there.”

Javi reaches over to feel the water, then rests his large hand between your shoulder blades. “Now take off your pants.” He gives you a gentle push out of his lap.

You stand again and remove your pants. Javi stays seated.

You’re cowering with your arms in front of you, but Javi beckons you with a hooked finger. You come to stand between his knees. He nudges your inner elbows and you let your arms fall out of the way.

“Good girl,” he mutters, not taking his eyes off your tits. His hands come to your chest without even a glance to your face. He lightly massages your breasts until both nipples are erect. He slots both his hands under your armpits and thumbs your nipples, then slides his palms down to your hips where he hooks his thumbs into your panties and keeps going, bringing them down to the floor.

Steve comes back from the closet and sets some clothes on the bathroom counter.

Javi looks over and tells him, “Keep Carillo off my back for a while.”

Steve nods and leaves. “Hasta luego!” he shouts with an American accent on his way out.

Javi chuckles and shakes his head.

Javi eyes the water level of the tub and turns off the faucet. “How do you feel?” he asks you with kind eyes.

“Fine,” you mutter without meeting his gaze.

He extends his hand for you, and you hold it for balance. You dip a toe in and it’s lukewarm. “Get in.” He nods toward the bath and you do. He takes off his shoes and socks and puts them outside the door, then cuffs his jeans.

“How’s the water?” He asks then reaches under the sink, and you watch his ass strain his pants as he gets a bath poof.

“Uh, good.” Your answer echoes off the tile.

He sits on the side of the tub and uses a light orange bar of soap to make some lather, then scrubs you. He holds you with one hand for leverage while he scrubs you with the other. He starts with your arms, and your neck. He's not gentle.

“Ow,” you mutter at one point.

“Ay, pobrecita” (poor little girl). “You're going to feel so clean,” he reassures you. He makes you lift your arms. Then each leg. The tub squeaks under you as you scoot forward. He scrubs your legs and between your thighs. He does your breasts and your back. His arm muscles flex with his effort. When he leans over you to reach your other side, his back muscles strain his shirt and his gold chain escapes from his collar, revealing a little cross on it.

“You’re bottoming out,” he mutters.

“Huh?”

“In life.” He pauses and makes sure you're looking at him as he explains this. “It’s a good thing. Know why?”

You stare at him vacantly.

“Once you hit rock bottom, you go back up.”

You look away, and your cheeks burn. You get it, he found you at a low point, he doesn’t have to rub it in. It doesn't feel great.

Javi washes your stomach and downward. He gets close to your intimate parts, but he's clinical about it. He gets you up on your knees and scrubs your bottom. He flattens his hand and slides the side of it down your crack, making you gasp with an unexpected rush of warmth to your core.

Your skin feels almost numb in some areas by the time he's done bathing you. Then he lathers a softer sponge and washes you more gently. He drains the tub and takes his time lazily rinsing you. When he's finished, he turns on the shower and tells you to make sure he got it all.

Once you’re squeaky clean, he dries you off with a pale, yellow, threadbare towel. He inspects the clothes on the counter. It’s a Hawaiian shirt much too large to be Javi’s. Some pants, too, but he only puts the Hawaiians shirt on you. You eye your underwear on the floor, but Javi bends down and snatches it up before you have the chance to collect it.

“I’ll start some laundry,” he offers.

—. . .----

Javi makes pork and beans for dinner. While you’re eating, someone jogs up the stairs outside. “Steve’s right upstairs,” Javi tells you. “Ever need anything and I’m not here, just yell.” He takes a bite of his beans. “He’s a better cook, too,” he smiles with his eyes.

During a quiet moment, you’re startled by the sound of a woman moaning from upstairs. You look up at the ceiling.

[ohhhh, she whines. give it to me.]

“Just a porno,” Javi tells you with a smirk.

“So,” He studies your face. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“You make it sound like my life is over.”

“No, there’s still time,” he shrugs.

You refuse to answer.

[upstairs, a man’s voice joins in. oh yeah, take it, baby.]

Javi tries, “Favorite color?”

You don’t answer that either.

[yeah, just like that]

“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ve got all the time in the world to get to know each other.”

“You can't keep me here forever, if that's what you're trying to do.”

Javi’s eyebrows knit in concern. "Oh, sweetheart.” With sad eyes, he asks, “You really think someone will report you missing?"

"I have a job," you protest.

“Oh,” he sounds fakely impressed. “Well. . . Be a good girl, and I'll get you a better one.”

Upstairs, a deeper, clearer voice sighs, “Ohh, fuck,” making you squeeze your thighs together. That has to be Steve. It sounds like him.

[Steve sighs and grunts over the faint sounds from the television.]

You bite your lip and look away.

Javi lowers his head and raises his eyebrows at you. He reaches for your face and smirks as he makes you look at him. “Like what ya hear?” Blood rushes to your face. He chuckles as he lowers his hand.

[A long groan from Steve.]

Oh, wow. You wonder if Javi will notice the wet spot under you. You take a deep breath. When you regain your focus, he’s studying your eyes with an amused sparkle in his. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he nods, then pats your cheek.

“He’s a good guy,” Javi adds, then looks upward in thought. He tilts his head back and forth as though debating himself. “Kind of.” He pushes a glass of water toward you. “Drink.”

—-

When it’s time to sleep, Javi takes you to the bedroom you walked through on the way in. He watches your face as you eye the bed with its restraints.

“You’ve been pretty good so far,” Javi muses. “Maybe we don’t need this yet.”

“Please,” you beg. “I promise I’ll behave.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Fine.”

“Alright, then. I’m not sure if you’ll like the other option much better, though.”

He brings you to his room and heads toward the closet, which rolls open with a four-panel door. you wouldn’t really mind sleeping in Javi’s bed with him, but that’s not what he has in mind. He pulls out an old futon mattress with a striped fitted blanket and throws it on the floor. “You can choose where to sleep, how’s that?”

“Here,” you answer without hesitation and he chuckles.

“Muy bien, pobrecita. But I *am* going to have to secure you.” He takes his handcuffs out and cuffs one to a radiator under the window. Then, with his foot, he pushes the futon mattress over to it.

“Really?” You ask. “I promise I’ll be good.”

“I believe you. But you need protection from yourself right now.”

His bed has plenty of room for both of you. He’s just being an ass.

Javi lets you watch television, sitting side by side with him on his sofa. He periodically looks at you skeptically, as though wondering if you’ll make a run for the door, but you don’t. It sure has been a long day. You yawn.

“Ready for bed?” Javi asks.

You nod.

There’s a knock at the door.

It’s Steve. He’s come by to drop off a couple of bags. One is from the grocery store. Javi steps into the breezeway to talk for a couple of minutes. When he comes back in, he brings the grocery bag to the table and puts the others aside. In the grocery bag, there are brand new toiletries for you, including a toothbrush.

Javi takes you to the bathroom and watches you while you brush your teeth, then he brings one of the other shopping bags into the bedroom. There’s a nightgown. The material is thin and it’s on the shorter side. Not exactly modest. Javi puts it on you, and at least it’s more comfortable than whomever’s shirt you were wearing.

He gives you a thin pillow and pats the mattress for you to lie down. He cuffs you to the radiator. Then he goes to another room and comes back with a blanket. He tucks you in.

“If you need to go to the bathroom or anything, just wake me up, okay?” He moves your wrist to clank the handcuffs on the radiator in demonstration. “I hope tonight won’t be bad, but you might start to feel sick, or get chills. That’s normal okay?”

You nod.

He pats your head affectionately and bids you goodnight. “Sweet dreams, mi pobrecita.” He goes to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. When he comes back in the room, you try not to watch him, but you hear him rustling around near the bed. You tilt your head up enough to steal a quick glance, and he’s taking off his shirt. He doesn’t get in his bed right away, but eventually you hear the mattress creak.

—--

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling a little queasy, but you’re unsure if it’s the circumstances, the beans, or the detox. You can’t tell if you’re hot or cold, but this sleeping arrangement is not doing you any favors. You don’t want to wake Javi up, but the night feels like it might last forever otherwise. You rattle the cuffs against the metal.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he whispers. “Okay, I’m coming.” He gets out of bed.

He approaches you, barefoot. As soon as he kneels down, he mutters, “Ay, cabrón” (oh, bastard) under his breath and returns to his nightstand for the key.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you when he comes back. He uncuffs you. As you sit up, he helps you with a warm hand on your back. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, of course,” Javi responds as if he didn’t handcuff you to a radiator.

As he helps you up from the floor, something brushes your thigh and makes you tingle. Your body knows what it is before you do. When you register what grazed your leg through his sleep shorts, your face heats up and the tingle turns into a throb. Javi walks you to his bathroom with one arm around you in case you have trouble. He takes you all the way to the toilet. “You good?” he asks.

“Yeah, do you mind if I?”

“Sure.” He backs up into the doorframe, but he doesn’t close it. You glance over, and he’s not hiding the massive tent in his shorts. He’s not shy about it at all. He’s also not trying to do anything about it. “Alright, I’ll be right here.” He closes the door halfway and stands outside. You sit there for a few minutes on the cool tile in front of the toilet. The urge to be sick has passed. He peeks his head in to check on you. “How about some water?”

“Okay,” you nod. He comes in and helps you up, hard-on still blazing. He takes an empty, upside-down glass from his clean bathroom counter, fills it up, and hands it to you. You’re aching at the silhouette of his length just casually standing at attention. It takes all your energy not to look right at his shorts.

“Good girl,” he gently palms the back of your head.

You try to look anywhere but down. You focus on his bare chest. His chain drapes over his collar bone and sits above his strong, golden pecs. There’s a light smattering of dark, soft hair. And then, lower, a happy trail. You yank your eyes away. You look at the counter: A brush, a comb. Maybe he does his mustache with that. You look at his hair. It’s messy, out of place. Bedhead looks good on him. He casually rakes his hand through it when he sees you looking. Your gaze drifts back to his body. It’s really a beautiful torso you’re looking at. Broad shoulders, strong arms, narrow waist. A hint of abs under the light padding of his flesh.

“You okay?” he asks with his puppy dog eyes, which gives you an idea.

“Yeah.” You look up at him, widen your eyes, and let your face fall.

He nods. “Back to bed?”

You hold your wrist as if it hurts from the cuff and nod sadly. You check his shorts in the corner of your eye–yeah, it’s still there, as commanding as ever. The tent bobs as he walks. He walks you back into the bedroom and pauses at your futon mattress on the floor. He reaches for your hand and holds it as his other thumb brushes the indentation on your wrist.

“You’re sure you don’t want the bed?” He nods toward the other room with the restraints.

“I’d love a bed, but no. That one’ll give me nightmares, I’m sure.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Are you asking to sleep in *my* bed?” His thumb continues to brush the indentation from the cuffs. His light touch gives you butterflies.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him and your hand joins his, on your wrist. His thumb freezes. Your fingers rest lightly on top of his. “I guess I’m okay down there.” You glance at the mattress on the floor.

His bare chest rises with a deep breath. “You’re being such a good girl,” he marvels with your hand on his. “Come on. It’s okay.” He guides you to his bed and pauses when you’re right in front of it. He faces you and puts his hands on your shoulders. He dips his head and his tone darkens. “But if you leave this bed, things are going to change here,” he warns. “And you’re not going to like it.” He shakes his head. The gentleness of his voice and the look on his face sends a chill down your spine.

Javi gets into his bed, under the covers. He lays on his side and makes room for you, albeit not much. “I still have to restrain you,” he informs you as you lie down. “Do you want the cuffs or my arm?”

“Your arm.”

“Good girl.” He extends one arm and raises the other, making room for you.

You scoot back against him, mentally bracing yourself for what awaits under the covers. You're already twitching before you feel it. He inhales sharply as the hardness in his shorts hits you. With a hand on your lower abdomen, he pulls you into him, and his stiff length presses against you.

“I’m sure that’s not going to bother you, is it?” he asks and your breath hitches. You shake your head just barely on the off chance he wanted a real answer. But it is, it's going to bother you as long as he won't put it in you. You’re human, you can’t help it. He’s a bad person but you can only imagine what a good lay. He curls his strong, lean body around you like a big spoon, and he nestles the warm rod in his shorts against your crack.

One bicep is under your neck. His other arm settles over your waist. You don’t need to test his strength to know his arm is solid. Heavy. There’s no escaping as long as he holds this position.

He inhales your hair, and the hand in front of you cups your breast through your thin nightgown. He slowly palms your breast, and lightly grinds against you. You can’t help but push back on him. The shape of his arousal against you makes you salivate.

He whispers just above your ear. “Sure do love cock, don’t you?”

As he thrusts against you at a slow, steady rhythm, his hand slides off your breast, down your gown, sliding over your stomach and down to the fleshy triangle where your thighs meet. His hand stays flat. He doesn’t dig between your legs. He gently presses your mound, bringing you back against him harder as his cock throbs even harder against you.

“That can be a good thing for recovery,” he offers. “You need something to replace that high.”

He thrusts against you slower, lighter. It’s excruiating. “Mmm.” He begins to gather the nightgown’s fabric into a fist, raising the hem of the gown and exposing more of you to the air between the sheets. No underwear.

His hand rests on the bare skin of your lower abdomen, then slides down just low enough that his middle finger can tease your most sensitive place. He slides further down until his middle finger reaches the pool between your legs and he growls almost silently. He begins to move his fingers between your legs. Slowly, expertly, leaving his thumb and pinky braced on your front. The movement is just enough to drive you crazy. His index and middle fingers slide through your dripping folds and apply pressure to your swollen bud, moving to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts against your crack.

“Mm,” your moan is barely audible.

“Ohh, I know,” Javi coos reassuringly. “I know.” He ruts against you slowly. He sighs as he moves against you. The heft of his arousal pushing against both asscheeks makes you weak. If only he’d just stuff your pussy. You can hardly stand it. He must feel you gush on his fingers. “Oh, yeah,” he whispers into your hair. His throbbing erection grinds against you. His hand leaves your cunt and you feel cold, exposed. He pulls down the waistband of his shorts, then his hand–wet fingers and all–slightly lifts your thigh, making your heart skip a beat.

He wedges his naked cock between your thighs, right against your cunt, and you gasp. His swollen tip glides through your wetness and you moan, “Ohh.” He slowly slides forward and back through the warm, wet pocket made by your thighs and cunt. You push back against him. “Mm,” he grunts softly as his tip reaches your clit.

His hand returns to your breast. He massages your breast as his cock keeps sliding between your thighs and nudging your sensitive bud just right. “Javi,” you whisper. “Please.” His cock hesitates at your entrance, and you tilt your hips.

“Not today, sweetheart.”

With a small thrust, he bypasses your wet little hole again.

Then he stops moving. You push your ass back into him, and he does nothing but tighten his arm over you. He cradles your breast gently. You’re throbbing, aching to have him inside you. It feels like an eternity you’re lying like this with his arousal throbbing against your naked heat. You begin to feel a chill again and reach for the blanket to wrap yourself tighter. He helps you, then murmurs. “Good night” into your hair.

The comfort of his arms and rhythm of his breath lulls you to sleep sooner than you expect.

—-...------

Just after daybreak, you awake to the sound of Javi breathing heavily as his cock slides against your wet cunt again. Your chest is hot and fluttering. He’s aggressively groping one breast, then shifts to the other with a grunt and harsh thrust. Your body shifts as you wake up. He pants, “Morning sunshine,” and you push your ass back against him.

“Was I good?” you ask.

“Ohh,” he moans, “You were good.”

His hand comes between your legs and you gasp at the pressure of his thick fingers on your clit. He doesn’t move them, just rests his hand there, then asks “Would you like to cum?”

You nod, “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please,” you whine as his cock glides against you.

He slows way down. “Because I’m only giving you one today. You sure you want it already?”

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“It’s not even seven a.m.”

“Please, Javi.”

He begins to move his thick fingers, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re seeing stars.

“Ohh,” you moan as the waves of pleasure begin to overtake you. Your body spasms, and your walls clench around nothing.

“Mmmm, mi putita. . .por supuesto ahorita” (My little slut. Of course right now), Javi purrs into your hair. “That’s the–ohhh–thing with addicts,” he pants as he chases his own orgasm. “You want everything right–mmm—now–ohhhh.” As Javi begins to cum, he moves his hand from your clit to his cock. His cock pulses against you, and it’s too easy to imagine it inside you. He cups his hand and seals it over his tip and your front. He slowly thrusts as he cums. He slides against you, coating your folds and clit with his warm spend as your own climax fades.

When Javi is empty, he withdraws his cock, but keeps his hand in place. He rubs his spend over your oversensitive parts, making you flinch and moan.

“Ohh, I know it sweetheart.”

A thick digit breaches your entrance, pushing some cum into you, and he sighs.

“One day, pobrecita. One day.” He adds another finger. “Voy a llenar esta concha con leche” (I’m gonna fill this pastry/cunt with milk/cum).

Your first morning waking up at Javi’s place, he lets you sit at the kitchen counter and watch him make huevos rancheros and cactus.

Over breakfast, he asks, “What do you like to do?”

You shrug.

“Because getting high replaced all your hobbies,” he concludes.

“That's not true.”

“It's not? Then what do you do? Draw? Write? Do you read?”

You scoff. “Yes, I read,” you say with an eye roll and can’t help but add, “Did kidnapping replace all your hobbies?”

There's an instant surge of regret in your chest, but Javi chuckles and lets it slide. “What kind of books? I could pick one up for you.”

You swallow, rest your fork, and ask, “really?”

“Sure,” He nods.

“Okay. Maybe a mystery,” you offer, only because you know you'll need the distraction.

“Good,” he nods. “A mystery.”

Later that day, Javi has to go into the office. He leaves a glass of water for you, a bucket just in case, and he cuffs you to the radiator. He reassures you Steve will come check on you as soon as he gets home. You try your best to get comfortable on the futon mattress.

As soon as Javi leaves, things go somewhat downhill. You have a headache, then your stomach begins to bother you, and the handcuffs are driving you crazy. You’re anxious. You're horny. You’re cold. Why are you horny? After about an hour, you rattle the cuffs on the radiator. When nothing happens, you yell for Steve, then hear movement upstairs.

When Steve comes into Javi’s apartment, you hear him open the door, but it doesn’t sound like it shuts all the way. His footsteps are loud as they approach through the living room. Steve unlocks Javi’s bedroom and pauses in the doorframe. “There she is.” He rests his hands on the top of the doorframe and leans forward, stretching his back as he takes in the scene. “Damn,” he mutters. “You alright?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, darlin’.” He digs into Javi’s nightstand for the key. “Hold on.” He comes over and crouches down on the floor. He smells like cigarettes, and he must smoke the same brand as Javi.

You're mildly surprised by the way your body reacts to Steve’s proximity. You squeeze your legs together, self conscious that you’re gushing. The day before, you were so focused on Javi that you didn’t think much of Steve at the time. But after overhearing him jack off. . .There’s something about hearing a man make those primal noises. It changes his whole face, his whole presence in your eyes.

“C’mere,” Steve offers and extends his massive hands, looming over you. You sit up on your knees, careful not to expose yourself with no panties. He slots his hands under your arms and helps you to your feet. He checks you out and raises an eyebrow. You wonder if he can see through your nightgown. “He’s still got ya in your PJs, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s alright.”

“Looks good on ya, anyway.”

Steve ushers you to the restroom and waits outside. You’re starting to feel a little better already, just having someone around again. His presence distracts your body from its woes.

When you’re out of the restroom, Steve asks if you need anything else. You ask for a glass of juice. He brings you to the kitchen to get some. The sound of children playing outside echoes from the breezeway and you notice the door isn’t shut flush. Before you can really think about it, you begin to walk toward the door, heart pounding. You’re barefoot, and realistically, you’re not going to try to flee, but you want to know you could. You’re not running, you’re walking slowly, curiously as though pulled by a weak magnet toward a chance at freedom.

Steve crosses the room in two strides and steps right into your path. His massive arm wraps around you, halting you dead in your tracks. “Wouldn't do that.” His face is stone. Instinctively, you begin to struggle, not to escape, but to get out of his strong grip. His body overwhelms yours.

His arm tightens, and you whine, “Ow.”

He shakes you once, then loosens his grip. He brings his mouth to your hair and lowers his voice. “Don't make me hurt ya, sugar.” He wraps his arm around your middle and begins to drag you toward the bedroom with the creepy bed. He wrangles you over to the bed with the straps. You don’t resist much, but he’s rough with you anyway.

“Okay, okay,” you tell him. “I’m sorry.”

He throws you down on the bed and pins you with his weight, then begins to strap you in, limb by limb. Your heart is racing. But you don’t feel sick at all anymore. All you feel is the rush.

“Ya know, I should tell Agent Peña ‘bout this,” Steve mutters as he buckles your wrist.

“No, don’t. Tell him I was good. Please. I wasn’t trying to do anything.”

“Yeah, alright. We’ll see.” The bed is probably full sized. Wider than a twin. The leg restraints are spaced out enough that you feel like you’re spread eagle.

Once you’re all strapped down, Steve slowly paces next to the bed looking at you like a piece of meat.

He asks, “True you were beggin’ for cock?”

“No,” you answer as a gut reaction.

“Ya weren't? Huh. Peña’s a liar?”

“He–he got me all worked up on purpose.”

Steve freezes near the foot of the bed and cracks a smile. “So it is true. . .Hmm.” He tilts his head contemplatively. “How'd he do that? Get ya all worked up.” He dangles his fingers to graze your bare ankle. Then he walks back up toward your head, dragging his fingertips over your shin. His fingers lightly circles your kneec twice, then continue up your thigh. He pauses and strokes an abstract pattern on your inner thigh.

You don’t answer him. You don’t have to. He’s already having an effect on you.

“Well, don't worry. I'm not gonna hold out on ya. Want somethin’ from me, sugar? Just ask.”

“Thanks.”

“It's ok, baby.” He lowers his voice. “Really don't mind one bit.” He looks at you hungrily and wets his lips. His fingers get closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. When his fingers graze your outer lip, he peeks under the gown. “He left the door open for me. That was nice,” Steve smiles. “Said ya got a gorgeous pussy, too.” Your legs tense, and his hand returns to your thigh. “Nothin’ to be afraid of, darlin’.”

The leather that’s holding you down is what scares you. It’s the most unsettling feeling.

Steve adjusts himself, and when you follow his hand, you can't pull your eyes away from the bulge in his pants. Wow. He doesn't wear his pants nearly as tight on his ass as Javi, so you hadn't even thought about Steve’s dick. Now it's all you can think about. You're studying the shape his pants are struggling to contain. Never would’ve thought. And, balls. You’re pretty sure he’s got big balls. You wet your lips and realize you're staring.

“Attagirl,” he mutters. “See, that's where my partner and I have different philosophies,” Steve explains. “I could care less if you're drunk, high, outta your mind.” The hand on your thigh slides all the way up to where your thigh meets your torso. “Good pussy’s good pussy.” He traces the crease, right next to your outer lips, and his light touch makes you tingle. “I think a pretty girl deserves all the dick she wants.” He sighs, then raises his eyebrows. “And then some,” he says with a short nod.

“His heart’s in the right place,” Steve says unconvincingly. “Hurts though, don’t it?” He pouts at you as he keeps tracing the crease of your inner thigh. “Never met a whore he didn’t fuck. . .n’ can’t be bothered to give ya just an inch.

He follows your eyes back to his crotch and chuckles darkly. “Boy, you got your eye on the prize, don't ya?” He looks down at himself.

“Mmm,” he grunts when he meets your eyes again. The humor is gone from his face.

He looks at the leather strap around your arm. “I’ll take mercy on ya,” he mutters and takes his hand out from between your legs. He pauses with his hands on the strap. “Gonna be good for me?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

He unbuckles the strap. The metal of the buckle flicks against your inner arm. You don’t move your arm, making good on your promise to be good. Then the mattress creaks and groans as he gets up on the bed with you. He straddles one of your knees and leans forward, bracing his right hand on the mattress near your torso. His left hand returns between your legs. This time, he goes straight for your cunt. He smiles when he feels how wet you are. He lightly rubs you, teasing your dripping folds up and down. He falls into a trance. He gathers your slick and brings it to your clit. He scoots up on the bed so his head is above yours and his crotch is at your hip. He looks into your eyes as he circles your most sensitive spot. A knot is already forming in your stomach, making your pelvis lift into his hand. He wets his bottom lip, then bites it as he adds more pressure. Then speed. Your mouth falls open and a moan slips out.

His lips form a small ‘o’. “Ooh,” he marvels. “Oh, you’re a real sweet thing, I can tell.” His fingertips slide down, and one of them teases your entrance, making an audible, rhythmic smacking sound. Then he slowly pushes the finger inside. His eyes roll up toward the ceiling, and his head tilts up too. You watch his neck veins. There’s some faded tattoo ink barely visible on his chest, poking up from his collar when the angle is right. He presses his hard bulge against your hip and you gasp with a bolt of arousal.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and you moan. “Yeah, ya want that, don’t ya?” He gives you another slow thrust against the hip. “You want it right here.” He pushes another finger into you. “Ohh, yeah.” His upper palm massages your clit as his fingers pump into you.

“You’ll get it, don’t worry.” You twitch at the thought. “But you’re gonna cum on these fingers first. Hear me?”

You nod and take a deep breath. Your back arches. You reach for his pants.

“There ya go,” he nods as if that’s why he unbuckled you in the first place. “Ohh, you’re gonna go wild.”

You grab his bulge–it’s more than a handful–and massage him through his pants.

“Mmm. Yeah,” he whispers. Your nipples harden with his practiced touch, and you sigh, unable to take any more tension. His fingers curl inside you and he whispers, “C’mon, now.” The deep whisper is enough.

“Ohh,” you moan. He nods in encouragement and his upper palm bears down on your clit. You close your eyes and let yourself unravel. Your spasming walls squeeze and soak his fingers.

“Yeahh, attagirl.”

As your climax fades, he withdraws his fingers and feverishly unbuckles his belt. You throb in anticipation. It won't take much to tease another one out of you. Your core twitches as he shoves down his briefs and his thick cock springs free, taking your breath away. He gets between your legs and holds his stiff manhood loosely as he lines himself up. He shakes it heavily up and down, teasing your clit with the head of his cock. Oh, God it feels so–you’re already about to–

–Steve hesitates.

In the driveway, a car pulls up and stops.

Steve stops what he’s doing. “Alright, let's see what the boss wants,” he says with an air of inconvenience as he tucks his erection into his briefs.

“Thought you were partners,” you say and hope you don't sound too disappointed.

“On paper, sure. “ He buttons and zips up his pants. “On paper I'm a good cop, too,” he winks.

Steve pats your cheek and says, “hang in there.” He gets off the bed, then leans in close and whispers, “give it to ya next chance I get. . .skip the preamble, how's that?”

You bite your lip. Just as the front door begins to unlock, Steve sits down in a chair next to the bed, with his hands clasped in his lap.

—--

Javi opens the door.

“All good at the office?” Steve asks.

“All good,” Javi reports, and he surveys you with his eyes as he approaches. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh, she just wanted a change of scenery,” Steve reports, mercifully. Javi looks at him skeptically for a moment, then shrugs it off.

“How are you feeling?” Javi asks you with a hand on his hip and a serious look. He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you and Steve, who’s on the same side.

“Okay,” you reply.

Javi clenches his jaw and furrows his brow. His hand frames your jaw and he looks at your eyes. Then he lets go of you.

"Good," Javi nods. Then squints and asks, "He touch you?"

You look at Steve. Steve raises his eyebrows curiously. He doesn't deny touching you, but his face also doesn't give you any clues about the right answer. He’s sitting in amused suspense. Javi raises his eyebrows at you like a challenge, waiting on you to speak. You look at Steve again, and Steve winks. Unsure what it means, you begin to slowly shake your head no.

Javi clenches his jaw and his eyes narrow. His head whips to Steve and he asks, "Why not?"

Steve sighs and uncrosses his arms. He extends his hand to Javi. Javi brings Steve's hand to his nose, takes a whiff of his fingers, and cracks a smile. "Don't lie to me, putita." Javi closes his eyes, draws in your scent again, then opens his eyes and mouth as he brings Steve's middle and index fingers to his lips. Javi locks eyes with you as he tastes you on Steve's fingers. Your heart races. You failed whatever test this was.

Javi drops Steve's hand and brings his own hand to cup your jaw. "Pobrecita. . ." His hand dwarfs your face. "What’s the matter? Te confunde?” (It confuses you)

You nod, and your voice is small. "You said it's yours."

"What's mine?"

You look down at yourself and swallow. "My body?"

Javi nods. "Say it."

Your eyes settle on what you can see of his gold chain under his shirt. "This pussy is yours."

"That's right," Javi nods condescendingly. "Good girl." He brings his hand from your cheek to your thigh and squeezes it. He nods toward Steve and says, "con mi permiso" (with my permission). "Still confused?"

You shake your head.

“That's all he did? Touch you?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

Javi addresses Steve. "Alright, c’mon.” He beckons him, and Steve stands up with his hands still clasped in front of himself.

“Show her your cock.”

Steve undoes his pants again. He slides them down over the bulge of his still-hard cock, then pauses.

“Pants off,” Javi adds matter-of-factly. Steve sits back down to unlace his shoes, then takes them off. He pulls off his pants, and he's left wearing black socks and white briefs with a red and blue stripe around the waistband. Thigh muscles are massive.

“Good news for you, putita.” Javi nods toward Steve. “This one’ll fuck anything.” Your cheeks heat up and Steve shakes his head in amusement at Javi.

“Says the guy who has his own room at a brothel.”

Javi looks at your body hungrily and crosses his arms. “Give it to her,” he mutters without looking at Steve.

When Steve stands up, Javi takes his place, manspreading with his hands tucked under his arms, straining his short-sleeve button-up.

Steve mounts the bed again, putting himself between your legs. He pulls his briefs down under his balls, and you let out a little gasp. His cock is even more engorged than it was before. It’s so thick, and the veins are beautiful. He looks even bigger than Javi, but it might be an effect of his lighter, finer pubic hair. He braces a hand on the mattress again, hovering over you.

You glance at Javi and he's watching intently as Steve lines up his cock between your legs. The touch of his tip at your dripping hole makes you shiver in arousal and your nipples pucker. Steve smiles to himself under his mustache. He notches his tip half inside your entrance, then looks at Javi.

Javi makes a subtle beckoning motion with one hand, and Steve begins to push into you. You gasp as his girth begins to spread you open. He pushes further, and you whimper.

Javi scoots closer and lays a big, warm hand on your tied-down arm. You look at him and he reassures you, “You can take it, I promise.”

Then, Steve plunges to the hilt, dividing your insides with a loud grunt. You moan and lock eyes with him as he looks up at you darkly. Your body rushes to accommodate the heft of him inside you.

“Good girl,” Javi mutters to himself with his eyes fixed where your bodies are joined.

Steve withdraws most of his length, then Javi raises his palm in a stop motion and Steve freezes, biting his lips together. Javi stands up, and walks toward Steve for a better point of view.

“Go,” Javi mutters, crossing his arms again. There's a bulge growing in Javi’s restrictive jeans, and he's not doing anything about it.

Steve pushes into you again, making you moan. He pauses for only an instant before backing out again, and right away he’s pushing back in. “Fuck,” he mutters as his thick cock disappears into your hole once more.

“How is it?” Javi asks him. “Juicy, right?”

“Nngh–yeah,” Steve answers as he brings his hips back, then slams into you harder and his balls slap against you. “Goddamn,” Steve mutters. “Tighter than ya’d think.”

“Hm,” Javi hums with a straight face, then raises his eyes to meet yours. “He's gonna break you in for me.” He looks at Steve's cock sliding out of you then at Steve's face, twisted with arousal. “Right, partner?”

“Goddamn right,” Steve breathes. He ramps up to a steady rhythm, fucking you gradually harder until the force is pushing you up on the bed.

“Hold on,” Javi mutters and the vein on Steve's forehead swells with effort as he stops with only his tip inside. Steve wets his lips and rubs them together. Javi tightens the restraints to hold you steady. While Javi is is busy with that, Steve rocks ever so slightly into you, moving less than an inch forward and back. It’s so subtle it could be an accident, but it must provide relief because he moans quietly. At the sound of his noise and the look of his face, you whimper and your cunt spasms once.

“Nngh,” Steve reacts.

“Okay,” Javi announces, then stands so he can roughly see things from Steve’s point of view again. Steve resumes with a slow, careful pace.

Javi wets his lips as he watches your cunt swallow Steve's cock. Steve's cock pulls at your pussy each time it withdraws, and the sight seems to darken Javi’s eyes with lust. You twitch again.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes, then looks over his shoulder “Can I?”

“Don't let her come on your cock,” Javi answers.”

Hearing Javi talk about Steve’s cock is almost enough to do it.

Steve sighs and looks at the ceiling, in an almost eye-roll. His arms strain his shirt. His sweat wafts toward you and makes your knees weak. He draws in a deep breath as he slowly pushes in again.

You imagine if the situation was different, if you were just some slut they picked up at a bar, how much fun you could have with the two of them.

You twitch around him, and he pulls out in a hurry. “Sorry darlin’,” he mumbles. He sits back on his knees and pumps himself. “Where do you want it,” he asks, staring at your body.

“Uh,” you stammer, then realize he's not asking you.

Javi pulls the gown down under your tits. Steve strokes himself faster until his breath gets uneven. He pauses, scoots up your body to straddle your middle, then resumes. You admire his balls as his fist slides up and down his shaft. His hand is so large, yet it doesn’t dwarf his cock.

Steve’s eyes narrow at your tits. He pumps himself faster and his mouth drifts open until he points his cock at your chest and moans, “Ohhh—ohhhh, fuck,” painting your tits with his cum. Your nipples sharpen as the warm spend spreads. As the last of his cum dribbles out, Steve sighs.

“Good,” Javi mutters, then comes up toward the head of the bed again. Steve tucks his softening cock away and gets off the bed. He reaches down to the floor to get a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his jeans. Then he pulls the chair toward the foot of the bed, and manspreads in his briefs to watch Javi.

Javi dips two fingers into Steve’s cum on your chest. He spreads it around slowly. He circles each of your nipples until they’re painfully erect.

Javi swipes up a bit of cum from between your breasts and brings his fingers to your lips. You take his thick digits into your mouth and taste the salt of Steve’s seed. Then you gently suck. Javi gets you to clean both fingers, one at a time, then he licks them himself.

Javi brushes your temple with his thumb. “Let’s hope this is rock bottom.”

—---

Thank you so much for reading. To help with the next ones, I would love to know what you liked most about it, and your thots are welcome, too 🖤

tagging people who asked for part 2 🖤

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @ohheypedrito @weddingfairy @neobanguniberse @ladyscarlettdixon @zliteraturehoe @planet-marz1

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defrosted69 · 4 months

Text

A line Hook to you

(Danielle Marsh x Male Reader)

A/N: Its been a long time but here's something to you guys. Enjoy!

Note: 7k words

“The invisible string theory is the idea that the universe itself is stitched together with unseen threads, all of which lead us to our destinies.”

You sighed as you finally clocked out of work with your back aching with a pocking pain. Working on heavy machinery for a good 9 hour shift isn't really ideal for you body who's used to be so athletic and is used in locomotive motion. But time just keeps on going forward, not backward so changes will be applied in life. And before you know it, from writing and sleeping at the back of the class to having to deal in fixing heavy engines and inspecting them everyday to make sure they work properly.

"Why the long face? Come, The old guys are going for a drink tonight. You should come with Y/N"

A pat on the shoulder made you sighed as you heard his voice. Despite this heavy loaded schedule and work you had, there was always a friend that keeps you laughing and knows to make your frown upside down and uplift your spirits.

"Ah I'll pass this one Sunoo. Since tomorrow is Sunday, I'll enjoy my 1 day break"

"Oh Bummer. But I understand since I'll pass with them as well."

"Huh? How come?"

"The last time I joined them, they cause a ruckus in a bar. Remember how our pay got cutted because Boss preety much used our checks to pay up their damage."

You chuckled remembering that fragment of your memory like it was yesterday. It was quite funny because despite how Sunoo claim they are, they were actually great seniors to you. When you were still new to the company, they knew you lacked experience when it comes to the actual field so they were open to teaching you stuff you were confused with. And the funny thing is here is that you were above them when it comes to terms relating to work.

Cause you see, the seniors are all mechanics and car parts specialists but you on the other hand are their supervisor. You graduated in college with a degree in Mechanical Engineering and it wasn't that long when you landed a job in this medium sized delivery company. Of course they were first surprised to see that their supervisor was new and unexperienced but you gained their respect when you had to show them on solving a problem in the Pistons of the engine.

Pistons are one thing to fix but to make adjustments on the fly and make the engine working twice as powerful as before made their jaw at Awe. If most of of them before didn't believe in geniuses, we'll you just debunked their belief.

But since then, you had a good relationship with all of them and you got more wisdom from them since most of them are family oriented now and others have unique experiences that preety much makes you amazed and inspired by them.

"Well where you heading too then Sunoo?"

"Duh I'm gonna watch my Drama. That's the only reason why I have Netflix."

"Right. I completely forgot about that."

Kim Sunoo was your very loyal and emotional friend. Everyone in the company knows he's the golden retriever of the bunch since he's just all smiles especially most of the times. But don't let that distract you that he's one of the best employees the company has. Despite only finishing highschool, he worked hard to understand how the engine works and he had to prove everyone why he's also one of a kind. Despite the two of you being born in the same year, Sunoo has more experience and knowledge when it comes to the company and working experience.

But he is also an open armed person meaning he's not afraid to help you whenever you were need. There was a time your window in the apartment got cracked because of a storm, and you couldn't go to work. Sunoo came after the storm passing with tools for replacing windows and he actually gave you a free window without even costing you any expenses at all. All he wants was to see you at work since it's been a while since he's had someone his age to talk too.

"Well enjoy your stranger things drama or whatever it is. I'll see You at work on Monday man."

"Yeah Man see you in Monday."

He waved you goodbye as he went on the opposite of your direction of where you were going. The night was very chilly and the sky was clear as the day. Looking up, the moon was shining brightly with its stars twinkling next to it creating a perfect harmony in the sky. You were used to walking to your apartment since it's usually just 15 minute walk from home and you could admire the beauty of the building around and scenery.

But something had to ruin the beauty of what your eyes admire as couples walk past you showing their affection to their love one as if the sidewalk was their hallway to act all flirty with each other. You had no objection to people being extra PDA with each other since you'll be getting a good show but it just throw you off.

Perhaps since you've never had a female in your life, you've become the bitter old man who gets angry when youngsters and couples exhibit their love in front of you. It seemed like salt was thrown at you, as the cosmos is continuously reminding you of how lonely you are in this world. So taking deep breath, you decided to take a small detour and feed your stomach a bit after all, you didn't have proper lunch since the company cafeteria is serving nothing but sandwiches and energy drinks. And you were never a fan of energy drink especially after that small incident you had when you drinked an energy drink despite only having 2 hours sleep.

You really though you were gonna die when your heart felt heavy and you started breathing heavily. Luckily for you, that attack only lasted for 5 seconds before everything returned to normal but you were glad it didn't lead to something worse.

So after taking a detour of going to your favorite ramen shop, your stomach grumbled one more time reminding you to eat already or you might faint from starvation. Entering the place, there wasn't much people around since it was night time already which you preferred more than a jam packed day time. So ordering your usual bowl, you took your food to your favorite spot, near the window side on a single chair.

That place has hold a significant place in your heart because ever since Highschool that seat has always been your spot admiring the sunset, the cars, the people but more importantly, it's because that solo space gave you sanctuary to the problems of life.

So anticipating it to be unoccupied, you froze when your eyes saw a woman with a smirk showing how proud she was in her position as she spoke.

"I knew you would be here. The Invisible string really is true!"

You were confused at to what she was saying yet she smiled and stood up and immediately taking over your personal space as she got close to you with her eyes glittering like stars.

"I meant to say is that fate us brought us here together. Because I need your signature right here"

She pointed with her pen a piece of paper in a clipboard which had a few signature of some people as well but, it was smudged and the paper looked like it was dried from air after being soaked in water.

"Is this paper dried up?"

"Ohh eer… Dont mind that. Just sign it please. For my extra credit in college. Pleeese Mr. Pleeeese."

She began begging you like a wild Woman as other people anf some staff look at the two of you weirdly. Thier Stares somewhat made you feel embarrassed of her so without even hesitation, you signed whatever was in that clipboard hoping to end this already. Once you wrote down your signature and name, she smiled brightly and giggled cutely.

"Thank you Mr. I'm sure I'll see you again in the sidewalk. See you next week again. Bye bye Mister~"

She happily waved at you and giggled her way away of the restaurant leaving you perplexed and with so many questions than answers.

"Who the heck is she?"

Danielle extended her arms out and giggled joyfully as the sun caressed her face. She was overjoyed once again since she would finally receive additional credit for her completed assignment. That signature from last night was what she needed the most since she was finally able to obtain 100 signatures on her paper, which wasn't easy given the time constraint their professor had set. 5 days to get 100 signatures isn't as easy as it seems. So she was pleased to receive her final signature from someone she knows well.

After doing her usual morning routines, Danielle smiled happily as she leaves her dorm with a sense of happiness amd joy filling her body right now. The sky was clear and the air was perfect for her for a walk so with that she did. She began walking to her university humming her favorite song along the way. The common sidewalk that she has been walking was so colorful in her eyes right now and everything was so just blooming.

"What a wonderful day to eh mate?"

She asked herself as she giggled to herself. Yet among the busy people walking tbe familiar sidewalk, her eyes were looking for a guy who she was very thankful since the first day of her college days. As she keeps looking for that man, from a far and from someone's perspective, she looked like a mole appearing in and out of the crowd of people trying to look for you.

That's right, there was a reason why she waited for you at that restaurant last night although it was mostly just her guess and it was completely coincidental that the events unfolded that night. Never in a million years would she would have known that the stars aligned just to answer her wish to make her last signature poetic. She betted on herself that someone special will sign the last space on her paper and boy was she right.

At the very last second, just when she just admitted that everything isn't a fairy tale and her stupid brain admitted that ideal scenarios will come to reality was a slap and a wake up call for her. But you pulled at the very last second and helped her once again. Just remembering the first interaction you had with her made her blush and squeal in delight which earned a few confused and weird looks from the people.

"Shit. I'm public I forgot.."

Danielle giggled as she continued her walk to university. Although she didn't see you today, she understands that you would have left your place earlier considering your a working adult and she's just a college student yet, in her eyes and brain, she's as equal to your status in society which further more pushes her agenda that the invisible string theory exist. Because there must be some kind of connection in which you would be a part of her huge life. After all, Your first encounter with her was during her first time being in the city.

Being a college student means that you have to choose a college to go to and unfortunately for her, her desired course was far away from her city and her family. And of course, that sucks and is hard to understand but Danielle knew that this was a huge chapter of her life and as much as she didn't want to get away from the hugs of her parents, she had to let go of the meantime and travel to an another city with no friends, no nothing at her silos disposals.

She was starting at level 0 where everything had reseted for her but that didn't stopped her to be productive and she continued to encourage herself everyday that what she's doing is the best for her family and for herself. Life may be hard but you have to got an iron will to keep up with the waves of life and keep on moving forward with a stronger resolve to finish college.

Now is where her first encounter with you was. She wasn't sure if you had remember it but you were the guy who picked up her wallet when she had dropped it on the sidewalk where you and her were usually walking. Although she was to be blamed of why she had let go of her wallet because, she choose to admire than to keep her valuable in check within her reach. Honestly, the moment she realized her wallet was gone from her elbow immediately made her feel a cold shiver down her neck.

Everything she needs in collage allowances was in that wallet filling with bank cards and IDs for her to use in public to identifying her. But more importantly she didn't want a handful of earing coming from her sister about her losing her Wallet. But as soon as she turned around, you stood there returning her wallet back at her.

There was this weird trait for Danielle in where she remembers the people's face of those who showed her kindness so it wasn't such a suprise why she would remember you but if she recalled your reaction the other night, she knew she fucked up big time and leaving a good impression of her.

"Gaahh! Why did I spew that nonsense infront of him!"

Daneille ruffled her hair in embarrassment and irritation from herself for acting like a complete fool to the person…

She might have caught feelings for.

In Danielle's defense for this such claims is that she is attracted to people who shows her kindness even if it's just a small one. So despite meeting you before, Her total times of meeting you was 3 times in total considering the other night. Since the guys who were nice to her was absolutely no one. She was often mocked for being an aussie or her accent was made off back in middle school. They weren't that rampant back in high school yet as time moves forward, that claims are now reversed.

"Morning Dani. Did we sleep well?"

Lily Morrow asked her friend who wore a bright proud smile as she walks with Danielle to campus. Hearing her voice snapped her in her characther emission fantasy about which you were glad because everyone in school would know how much of an idiot she is sometimes.

"I slept well. I'm sure I'll get my credit today hehe."

Danielle smiled brightly as the two of then catches up their weekend drama as Danielle happily explained to Lily what she felt during that time as Lily was on full mode listening to every details eh spoke out off. But as soon as that was done, Danielle proceed to the teachers office as Lily went to attend her class. Danielle carefully knocked before entering the room where her professor was waiting for her.

"Ah Ms. Marsh. I assume you brought in your task I have given you?"

"Yes sir."

Danielle pulled out her clipboard along with it was the signed paper yet it didn't take 10 seconds, her progress was returned to her. And that slowly made her confidence shatter into millions of pieces.

"I'm sorry Ms. Marsh but I can't accept this paper."

"But sir, I completed the 100 signatures under 5 days."

Her professor sighed as He knew this was the reaction of Danielle once he rejected her paper. It's not that like her report was not significant to her course but what irks him, was how obvious that her paper had gotten wet or soaked to be more exact.

"I know Ms. Marsh but you gotta understand. Your already in your 3rd year and yet you can't understand simple instructions. I had given you a clean paper to work on and you returned it to me like a wet Wipes dried up?"

"But sir-"

"I don't wanna hear it but I'll give you on last chance to get that extra credit you want."

Danielle was now in full effect to listening to her professor because she needs to pass this subject without enrolling it next semester. It would be such a waste of time and year of she didn't take college seriously.

" I'm gonna give you another paper but this time it's only 75 person BUT, I need you to pass this in Wednesday."

Danielle widen her eyes knowing that getting 75 signatures in 3 days isn't gonna be easy since her college schedule for this semester was absolute trash. But if it means to pass this subject she would do it. So Danielle accepted it and he handed her a new copy. She thanked him as once she leaves the room, Danielle let out a frustrated groan from her as her task was easy enough yet hard to execute.

Although she still has 2 days to work on it and she could easily fill in that 75 person mark, the requirement for that is people outside of the campus and not students. She wouldn't break a sweat if it was just students since it would be very easy. But for strangers? It might be very difficult for her considering that she doesn't know strangers at all and sometimes they could have intentions and very bad at one.

"What do I do?"

The sun was slowly shining down as you clocked out earlier today. It was quite a suprise for everyone when the boss announced that today would be an early work off day since he had something to do. It was very odd since Mondays are usually a busy day at the company with a lot of the trucks being used as transport for its services. But if it means more time for you to relax and sleep in your bed.

Yes, the bed is your best place to relax and just forget about the reality of things especially in the adult world. Rest is the most important factor because it's an escape for you from all the troubles of society and life itself.

Upon changing into your casual wear, Sunoo got your attention once again as he smiled at you.

"Whats your plan now? It's still quite early."

"Bed."

"Why? You wanna watch porn or something?"

"Nah I just love sleeping."

Sunoo nodded his head in understanding but you can tell from his body language that he was itching to tell you something so not wanting to make him look like a fool anymore, you decide to break his bubble.

"What? What are you trying to tell me?"

Sunoo chuckled in embarrassment as he got caught by your keen observation but then again, that's what makes you stand out from the rest of the guys working in the company and its the reason why your his supervisor. Your eyes always managed to observe every small detail and remembers them which leads to new adjustment and improvement of the engine. And mind you, it's no ordinary engine, it's a truck engine. Those who big and carry a lot of horse power.

"Well you see. My friend hooked me up and he said we need a third player and I was thinking you-"

"Pass."

"Okay."

Sunoo gave up now. Once you set your decision on one thing it means you wouldn't change your perspective on that decision. And he knows your not into relationship as of the moment as far as he knows. But that thought made him question you.

"Say Y/N, why don't you go on a date now? I mean your finished in college right? You have a good job now so why not right?"

"I don't think I'm ready for it. The responsibility of taking care of someone is a Challange especially since I can't even take care of myself."

Although the real reason why you don't want a girlfriend right now is because you thought you don't deserve to be loved after all, one rejection back in the past really pushed you way back into not stepping into the world of romance. The pain of rejection and seeing that girl choose the wrong girl will never be not funny and painful for you.

"I guess your right. But there's nothing wrong in at least trying something new right?"

"It's not new to me, I already have been in that position before."

"Then why stop at one and live a life of repeating cycle when you can add new things in your cycle of life."

You wanted to speak up but you decided to take in what Sunoo said. There was no hint of any lies in his words as they were all pointing at you about your daily life. Yes it was a repeating cycle of sleep-work-eat-repeat and that's it. Nothing was really getting in between your daily cycle of life which was kinda boring in a sense.

But boring life is what you have been accustomed to and somewhat that's what you like to live in. But is that all there is in your life now since your really crossing the late 20s now. At the age of 25 where many people get married and have a family, your still wondering what your life's purpose is. As you walk the familiar street towards you apartment, the question still lingered on your head.

What do you really wanna do?

A simple question yet it has so many possible wrong answers depending on how you read into it. For you, you definetly have no proper answer at all to that question because you yourself was finding that purpose since College and even now, that you have a proper job, that question still lingering on your mind and time wasn't helping you since people your age have already figured out their path in life. Yet for you, you were still trying to pick up the pieces together and look for that glue that connects everything together yet, you couldn't find it.

Sighing was the only response you could get out of your problem but your bubble of thoughts were popped open when you heard a soft voice of sobbing and sniffing from someone. Of course your not that person to mind someone's business but when your eyes landed on the side and saw a familiar girl with her head down, back reciprocating in a deep breathing motion, and her hands cover her eyes. You just sighed at the scene.

Your legs wanted to keep moving forward and ignore her but the voice of Sunoo once again entered your brain. Will you be stuck to mediocrity forever in your life? Will you never cross that path of change that is really needed in your life right now?

"You alright Miss?"

Taking a huge step forward, you kneel down on her level and what you saw is something you didn't know would happen. Danielle literally looked at you with tears and snott coming out of her nose as if she just had the biggest heartbreak of her life. Her mascara was all smudge down on her eyes and it was preety disastrous seeing her Iike this. But one part of you wanted to laugh at her face right now but you took every ounce of your spiritual being not to laugh at her and try to understand her situation.

"M-Mister? The guy from the ramen restaurant? The one I always see in this sidewalk?"

"Yeah but how come I have many nicknames?"

Danielle sat up as you handed her your handkerchief thinking she would wipe her tears away but no, she used it to blow off the snot she had and that made you froze up. She cleaned her nose and felt her cheeks blushing red mad after realizing what she has done.

"Oh no I didn't mean to make your handkerchief all disgusting. I'll.. Umm.. I'll wash it for you."

Danielle began to panic as she didn't know what she would do since she didn't want to look like a complete fool to you after all. You saw the panic in her eyes which was a little puffy from all her crying. After snapping out of your shocked state, you shook your head.

"No need. It's fine, I mean handkerchief are used for wiping stuff anyway."

"Naur but still. I'll wash it for you. As an Aussie, I promise to make it smelling like a jasmine flower."

"You don't have too."

"Naur I'll-"

GRUMBLE

A large lion roared in her belly and as you look at Danielle's face, the color red slowly took over her face as she looked away covering her face and groaning in embarrassment. There's was no way this day could have gotten worse in Danielle's books but it just got worst. The last on her list is to embarrass herself to someone she looks up and this was a sign that today wasn't her day.

You chuckled at her stomach and your laugher was the hidden laughter that you have been keeping since earlier after seeing her face. Danielle immediately looked back at you with a glare which you immediately stopped your laughing but her glaring and with a few tears was amusing to look at. Maybe a little to adorable in your book.

"Stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry the timing was just to perfect. I'm sorry."

But despite your words, you still couldn't control your laughing and this only made Danielle form more tears in her eyes and seeing her glaring while her lips quivering being mad, embarrassed and sad made you shut up at your action.

"Okay I'll stop. Sorry"

You were genuinely apologizing for your action yet Danielle continued to pout glaring at you trying to intimidate you which is failing exponentially because all this is doing is letting you see an adorable Australian pout cutely at you because she doesn't know how to get mad to people. Knowing that she won't stop pouting and glaring at you, you had to take an action to this one.

"Alright. Let's get something to eat instead so your stomach doesn't roar anymore and perhaps we can talk there about what bothering you. Is that fine with you?"

Danielle didn't reply to you but nodded her head. So taking that as her answer you stood up from the bench with Danielle trailing behind you. Honestly speaking, most people would have just ignored her or to be exact, Danielle should be calling for the police or be at least questioning your true intentions to her but no she didn't. And that though in turns question you why Danielle, trust a stranger like you because as far as you can remember, you don't know her at all except the other night where you first met her, in that restaurant.

But as you were thinking about Danielle, She was silently wiping her makeup and adding new ones. She pulled out her lip tint and applied it on her lips by a small portion. Next she made sure her eyelashes stand out and adding a few blush and powder on her face was the final touch. Using her phone camera as her mirror, she smirked seeing how preety she is as she knows she needs to look preety infront of you right now. Because we don't know when will be the next time you two will meet like this.

Upon arriving at the Restaurant you ordered your favorite meal as you turned back to ask her about her dish.

"So What do you want-"

You got cut off by your own words as Danielle looked nothing like what you saw earlier. Infront of you was a beautiful woman who shined bright as the sun. Her sweet smile was so warm and her headband was the icing on the top as you stood there not knowing what to say next.

"Hmm? I'll have what you have hehe."

She smiled and turned her to the side which really made you stare at her for a good while before the cashier snapped you out of your trance. You order two of what you were having as you paid and choose a seat for the two of you. Unlike before, when you would just sit alone in your favorite place, you have to look for a new place since you have company.

"Let's sit there."

You looked at her a bit shocked because the place she picked for the two of you to sit was where you always sit. Danielle grabbed an extra chair and sat opposite to you smiling happily. It felt weird having to share a seat with someone when you were usually alone in that seat. But nevertheless, you sat down as well on your favorite seat.

"So what made you like a mess earlier?"

You spoke up first trying to break the ice between you two as Danielle spoke up.

"Ugh just my signature getting rejected"

"Huh. Was it that the paper I signed the other night soaked?"

"Hehehe."

Danielle scratched the back of her head guilty of what she did as you sighed and Chuckled a bit. No wonder you found the quality of the paper before weird. It was soaked the dried up quickly.

"So what are you doing now?"

"Well now I have to do another one. But only 75 people signature this time and it's due on Wednesday"

"Oh so your boss needs it?"

"Boss? Naur my professer need it."

"Naur? You australian?"

"Yeet."

You smiled by her energetic response as the two of you shared a laughter together. This was quite a surprise for you because unlike a few of those times when meeting a new person, it was always about business and there was no feeling or sense of friendship that could brew between yet with Danielle, there was no such thing like that. It felt like you have known her since you were in highschool. An old friend kind of vibe.

"Can I see those papers miss…"

"Danielle! Danielle Marsh. 22 years old, college student studying management… And hopefully the one you call baby girl.."

Danielle mumbled the last part and you didn't even get a whip of what she said in the last line because Danielle quickly showed her the papers in which your attention went through.

True to her words, it did need 75 signature from strangers and somehow you felt bad for her knowing she had limited time to do this task. Then a light bulb of an idea popped into your head but will you really take that risk of getting out of your comfort zone to help someone?

Once again, the words of Sunoo echoed in your head making you choose the light bulb of your idea. It will be risky but at this point, you just trusted your guts and went with it.

"I'll help you out. By tomorrow afternoon this should be all signed up."

Danielle gasped covering her mouth with her hands as she couldn't believe your making a move on her. As crazy as it sounds, to Danielle's checklist, this was her first strike that the guy was perfect for her. Of course you didn't know this as you read her expression as shocked but what you didn't know was that she gasped because she thought you were making a move on her by helping her.

"R-Really? You'll help me?"

"Yeah sure since my last signature was wasted. I want it this time to be for good use."

"Oh thank you so much.. Err…"

"Y/N. Just call me Y/N"

"Thank you Y/N."

Out of nowhere, Danielle stood up and hugged you with her face deep in your chest. That action made your heart race so fast as you were sure Danielle could hear it. You were about to push her away when a sudden calmness washed over you when you saw Danielle looking up to you sweetly. It really felt weird seeing someone like her keep you so calm and relaxed without even trying. Add in her cute smile and eyes that see your reflection.

True to your words, you managed to get 75 signature from everyone in the company. You even got your boss to sign because Sunoo told everyone a fake lie. Sunoo must have heard it wrong but in reality, he heard it correctly. You were trying to help Danielle with her signature and he began spreading the word that you helping your secret girlfriend in college and everyone ended up signing it so fast to the point your boss even gave you his blessing.

Of course this made you a little annoyed how they signed it just to show their support for you but that also makes you happy that the people your working with was supportive of you. And perhaps it could also be a sign they want you to have a girlfriend already. So since you already have Danielle's contact on your phone you called her and not even a second in she already answered it in a heartbeat.

You told her that you'll be meeting her in the bench on the familiar sidewalk to which she agreed upon. So as the time to leave for work had arrive, you excused yourself to leave early which your boss was all okay about it. So you left work not even realizing your still wearing your work polo with the logo of your company on it. You sat there waiting for Danielle and it didn't take long before Danielle arrived.

Her bright smile once again shined as you couldn't get enough of her smiling beauty.

"Heyya Y/N, you look like a hard working man hehe~"

You blushed in embarrassment realizing that you were still in your work polo as you chuckled about it. Usually you would just brush off the compliment but when it comes to Danielle, somehow those compliments hit your heart in a bullseye accuracy.

"Oh.. Umm thanks Danielle. Ah right, here's the paper"

You handed her her project and truth be told, you did keep your promise as Danielle look so shocked and happy upon seeing the Paper filled with signatures.

"You really did do it! Thank you so much!!"

Danielle leaped unto you forcing you to catch her in your arms as she hugged you tightly. You were already blushing because this is the second time you hugged her and it felt so right to have her in your arms. She giggled as she buried her face on your chest and you really didn't want to let her go but it would very awkward to just keep on hugging her this long. So as you were letting her go, Danielle felt your arms getting loose so she hugged you tighter hoping you would get the signal that she didn't want you to let her go. She didn't care if she wanted to be clingy, because she IS clingy.

"Who said you can let go? Hmph! Meanie.."

Danielle looked up at you with a pout as you chuckled and sigh as you decided to hug her again. And just like that, Danielle was once again happy.

"I need to repay you somehow Y/N."

"You don't have to Danielle It's fine."

"Naur it's not. You helped me alot. I know, I'll make you lunch from now on and you can't say Naur okay?"

"But-"

She placed a finger on your mouth shutting you up as she giggled and smiled.

"Please? Preety pleaseeee?"

"Well I guess that wouldn't hurt."

"Yeet!"

Danielle giggled as she once again buried her face on your chest and at this point, you were getting accustomed to her Being a clingy girl and a sweet sunshine.

Waking up to get to work again wasn't something new you to yet this time it felt more postive in a sense your actually eager to work today. There was that postive aura around you right now and you couldn't help but smile as you looked at yourself in the mirror looking alright. You checked your watch as you stepped out of the door, only to be greeted by ms. Sunshine.

"Morning Y/N. I made you lunch as I promised hehehe~"

Danielle was holding a packed lunch but what caught your eye was her wearing an apron in her clothes and it looked like she just went to a slug fest with so many stains all over her apron. You felt a huge burning sensation growing up your cheeks as you felt embarrassed and happy by her gesture.

"You didn't have too Danielle. I told you I don't-"

Danielle got up close to you placing a finger up your mouth shutting you up as she giggled and puffed her cheeks.

"I told you didn't I? I promised to make you lunch until then. So just please accept it."

Knowing that she went through hell to make you a lunch box and it shows in her apron and in her hands because there are 4 bandaids in her fingers which she was trying to hide under the lunch box. Seeing her and the fact she mafe effort for you just show how serious she is when it comes to keeping her word so you accepted it. And boy the way your fingers brushed against her, Danielle's cheeks burned red and her heart rushed so fast.

"Thanks Danielle. I'm sure I'll enjoy it."

"Hehehe~ Goodluck at work today."

She waved goodbye at you waved back and walked towards your workplace. As you walk your mind couldn't believe that you actually got a free lunch and you didn't have to suffer from the horrible lunch at work and not to disrespect the lunch lady there, but the food they are serving their are so limited and so small. Yes it's delicious but the portion is so small your stomach would be asking for more. So having a packed lunch from someone isn't just a good reason to avoid the cafeteria at work but it also means that someone cares for you.

And immediately that thought made you smile a little and blush as you couldn't believe your own thoughts.

"Gosh what are you doing to me Danielle."

As you look at the packed lunch you saw a sticky note on the top of the cover that says

"You need a lot of vitamin ME"

Which made you chuckle in amusement by her Witty jokes and it was the perfect quote to start the day ahead of you. And this continued on as Danielle continued to make you lunch every morning with witty jokes which are subtle hints of her feelings for you such as the quotes like:

"I am yours, No refund"

"You must be a camera because you make me smile"

"You know it's hard to find a girl who's so smart, cute, preety and top it all, an aussie. So don't Lose me got it mate?"

And there is one quote which really was your favorite of them all as it says:

"Don't you look away, don't pass me by Anything you want, babe, tell me what do you need"

Danielle knew that sending that quote was risky but she was ready to risk it all for you and when you read that quote your heart raced and a huge blush appear on your face. You usually sit away from the crowd in the cafeteria since you got lunch from Danielle and you didn't want to make any rumors about your life and you didn't want anyone to know about Danielle. Except for one guy.

"Gotcha you bastard. Who packed you lunch huh?"

Sunoo finally caught gist of you as you usually spend lunch with him so when you started to isolate from him, he began to raise an eyebrow and this only made him more believe that your doing something fishy which he believes is related to your relationship status. And he could be right.

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"Don't lie, you can't cook shit. So who made you lunch? Your girlfriend?"

"I don't have a-"

"Or perhaps your dating someone?"

"I don't-"

"You like her don't you?"

"I…. I….. Yeah.. I think I have fallen for Danielle"

"Wait.. Wait so you DO have someone?!"

Sunoo couldn't believe it. His theory was proven right and your walls just crumbled and it was all Danielle's fault. She broke that protective wall of yours that you kept away from romance yet Danielle, pushed through and got it broken down. Her efforts didn't go in vain because you noticed it upon yourself too.

"So the reason you work so hard and happy was because of her dude?"

"Am I really showing happiness at work?"

"Duh. You have been more brighter for the past few weeks compared to the last few months or even when you started here. You were so non chalant and bland yet now, you seem to be shining brightly."

Danielle's bright personality has finally rubbed into you as you couldn't believe the postive impact she has brought upon you and to others.

"But what if she hates me or-"

"Dude, she made you lunch just once?"

"No she's been making me lunch for the past few weeks."

"Fucking marry her and don't ever let her go dipshit."

Sunoo shook you as he said this and you decided to take his words once again. Danielle has nothing but sweet and a ball of sunshine for you. Your usual cycle of repeating boring process has come to an end with Danielle now in that mix. Everyday seems so enjoyable now and you look forward to it more than before.

But are you really ready to take that risk to love again? Will it finally clicked this time and wouldn't end in vain? This questions has been running rampant on your mind as the day goes by. The moment you clocked out of work, you saw the sunset setting and you took in all what have happened for the past few weeks and there you already found your answer.

Just as the universe seems to be setting you up, you got a messaged from Danielle that says,

"I made you dinner. I made too much earlier Lol"

The perfect scenario was upon you and a sudden hit of nostalgia rushed in your mind making you smile a little but instead of leaving in pain, you were optimistic something good was gonna happen so you rushed out of the company wearing your suit and the winds pass you by.

Danielle on the other hand was patiently waiting infront of your door with a bowl and a sticky note which was her last. Because today she was gonna do it. She had consoled Lily about today and it was the day of confession. Her heart couldn't keep it in anymore as it just screams your name everytime she sees you or everytime she makes you lunch. She needs to let her heart speak now and that last sticky note is the last one that speaks her heart.

But she didn't have to wait long as you walked up the stairs and there she stood and as if she was in a painting, the sunset behind her gave her the perfect complimentary to her beauty as ger white Capri sun dress and twin tails just makes so picture perfect. You Stared at her in Awe for a couple of seconds before walking up to her quite nervous and scared. Scared that history may repeat itself again.

"Hey Danielle. That's a huge pot."

"Oh right sorry I made too much earlier. Hehehe."

Her sweet smile really got you smiling and attracted to her and you wished this girl would be in your arms right now. But how will you pull the trigger on what you wanted to say? Anxiety was slowly beginning to creep up to you and it makes you so-

"Ah, I have one last note for you Y/N."

"Last note?"

Danielle nodded and that made you feel so sad and devastated. It felt like the ride was about to end with her and you would go back to your usual boring repetitive cycle. Danielle turned the cover of the pot with the note that says..

"Baby your my special one, cause you're the one I like"

Danielle stared right straight into your eyes not wanting you break eye contact because tonight was gonna be big for her. Her heart was racing quick and her hands were sweating but she took one deep breath as she let her heart do the talking.

"Y/N. You have been such a great person to me. You have helped me a lot of times now and I really am thankful for that. I thought I was crazy at first but I didn't expect that the person I fell in love with was within my view all this time."

You stayed silent listening to her as your heart was pounding so fast.

"We walk the same sidewalk everyday yet before I wasn't aware of you but ever since I saw you, my eyes was all locked in you. Because in that sea of people, I only have my eyes set on you."

"So before I… Before we have our… Meal.. Which I hope is not the last time we see each other because I don't want to make things awkward.. Umm.. I.. I.. I just wanna say-"

"Yeah I fell for you too Danielle. A lot."

"I love you-Wait what?"

You stunned Danielle so fast her eyes went so wide like the sunset as you chuckled at her reaction. Hearing her words was enough to confirm that your heart and her heart screamed the same song called love.

"My life has always been a repeating a cycle but I thought that was enough for me. Until you came into my life and change that. Everyday I See a reason to keep me smiling and motivated to work because you, you Danielle make my world so bright."

Danielle just stared at you with the most loving look as if she was ready to melt under your touch and you decided to do just that. You cup her cheeks and kissed her forehead and said the words that stopped Danielle.

"I love you Danielle."

As soon as those words was spoken Danielle placed the pot on the floor let and hugged you tightly and began bombarding your cheeks with kisses.

"You don't know how much I was holding myself to not kiss your cheeks. Now I can kiss you as much as I can. Hehe~"

You laughed whole heartedly as you let Danielle kiss your cheeks so much as you really felt the love coming from her. Despite having a painful memory of heartbreak, Danielle was the reminder that change is the only permanent thing in the world. But more importantly, Love wins all.

"You know my co-workers will be shocked that your in college."

"Naur they won't. Besides, My friends will be proud I have such a working adult boyfriend. Who will understand my craziness."

"Oh believe me, I have seen more crazier things Danielle."

"Prove it to me babe. Hehe~"

With a smirk, you carried Danielle, princess style making her blush and laugh as you two entered your apartment but aside from being so happy where the strings between you two has finally connected, the pot of food was left outside.

#kpop fanfic #fluff #newjeans danielle #newjeans #fanfiction

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rafeandonlyrafe · 7 months

Text

the game part two

read part one here!

words: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ only!, drug dealing, smut, dubcon at first, f receiving oral and handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of anal, cheating

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs

it’s been six months, and you’ve mostly forgotten about your encounter with rafe cameron. you stole his drugs and his money, then hid out. you knew your brother would keep you safe until things died down, giving you ample money for your score, but not wanting to hear the details of how you got into the cameron household.

you rarely think of rafe, except when your pathetic boyfriend comes over to fuck you. he’s sweet, a nice boy, and you like him, but his cock, while average in size, is nothing like rafes, and you find yourself missing his length, craving the feeling of him stretching you out again, even if it was just that one time.

“i think i’m gonna head out on the boat today.” you hum to your brother, looking out the large modern windows of his mansion at the shining sun, making the ocean glitter as it reflects the light.

“mmm, fine. take security with you.” he says, barely looking up from whatever document he’s working on.

“oh come on, i’ll be fine by myself.” you roll your eyes. your brother became even more protective of you after what you did to rafe. he even encouraged you to stay with your boyfriend, who he originally didn’t like. you know that means only one thing, and your boyfriend is now in his pocket as well, probably tasked with your safety.

“baby sis, you stole from rafe cameron. he hasn’t forgotten that shit.” “and he won’t be looking for me out in the fucking ocean.” you roll your eyes, stomping away to put on your bikini as your brother yells, “i don’t care, security is going with you either way!”

you get yourself ready anyways, knowing you need some time away from everyone, including whoever of your brothers henchmen have the unfortunate task of taking you on the boat. you walk out to the dock alone, but one of the men is already out on the pier, standing waiting for you.

“hello.” you mumble, climbing onto the boat and getting it ready, untying it from the dock and turning on the engine, keeping it idling as you make sure you got your necessities, snacks, water bottles, and a towel in case you decide to take a dip.

“oh shit, i forgot a life vest, can you grab one of the other boat?” you ask the man, you think his name is james. or maybe henry. you can’t bother to remember.

“sure.” he climbs off the boat and the second both of his feet are on the wooden pier, you shoot into the drivers seat, gunning the speed and taking off away from the shore before he can stop you.

you don’t bother turning around as he shouts for you to come back. you feel a little guilty about whatever punishment your brother is going to give him, but it’s not like any of the dudes hanging around are good guys, after all they all work for a drug dealer.

you navigate the backwaters seamlessly, having grown up on the water. you head further towards the ocean, away from the grassy islands, letting all of your worries and troubles go as you keep the boat moving at max speed, letting the wind whip through your hair.

you curse when the boat suddenly slows down. you hadn’t even thought to check the gas before taking off, you know your brother usually keeps everything filled. you angle yourself towards a small island, letting the nose of the boat push into the sand, but its better than being stuck free floating.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you groan, rubbing your hands over your face, checking all of the storage departments for extra gas, but of course theres none.

“just my luck.” you mumble to yourself, throwing yourself down on the seat. you can call your brother and have him, or more likely one of his goons, come and rescue you, but you still want some more alone time, so you shuck your coverup off and lay back, figuring you might get the best use of your time stuck by soaking up some rays.

you lay there for half an hour before you hear a boat engine. you’re in a pretty secluded area so it’s quite the surprise. you stand at the back of the boat and wave your arms, hoping whoever it is has some extra gas they can lend you.

the boat is blacked out, windows tinted dark so you can’t see what the driver looks like as the pull up to the sandbar jutting out of the water, also lodging the nose of their boat to hold them steady.

“hey! i ran out of gas.” you shout as the door opens.

“oh, sweetheart.” the voice has your body freezing up as rafe cameron steps into the light.

“ra-rafe.” you take a step back, legs bumping into the side of your boat. you have nowhere to go as he leaps from his boat to yours. “please don’t hurt me.”

“hurt you?” rafe questions, shaking his head as he steps closer. “hurt you like you hurt me? you used me.” rafe sounds almost hurt before the angry mask takes over his face again.

“i was forced to! my brother made me!” you explain, even though its a lie. it was completely your idea, but theres no way for rafe to know that.

“and you still went along with it. you could have told me, when you were in my house. i could have helped you. but instead, you let me fuck you. you let me inside your pussy. just to steal from me.”

rafe is now hovering directly over you, and you know from his smirk that he’s noticed your shaking body, and the way that you are staring up at him in fear.

“is that how much of a slut you are? you enjoy being whored out by your drug dealing brother?” rafe takes your chin in his hand, not being gentle at all as he tilts your head up to keep eye contact. “you certainly enjoyed bouncing on my dick.” “fuck you.” you try to pull your chin away, but rafe moves faster, shoving you down onto the sofa, the plastic material hot from baking in the sun.

“i won’t hurt you princess, no.” rafe hums, stopping you from squirming around my pressing his weight down even more. “in fact, since you love being a slut so much, i’m gonna fuck you.”

“rafe, please, no.” you whine as his hands grip your chest, ripping away the thin material of the bikini that was barely covering your tits to begin with. rafe ignores your pleas, dropping his head to suck one of your nipples into his mouth while his fingers pinch the other one.

“oh fuck.” you moan, legs widening and allowing rafes body to slot between. you press your hips up, seeking his body as you grind against him, upset that your body is betraying you as your pussy wettens the more rafe sucks and nips at your chest.

“see, this is exactly what i mean.” rafe laughs against your skin, biting the side of your breast and leaving teeth marks. “you were just saying no and now you’re grinding against me. such a little whore.” “please, i have a boyfriend.” you whimper as rafe sucks deep purple marks into your chest and neck, not caring that he’s leaving hickeys behind for anyone to see. he wants to claim you, mark you.

“does he fuck you good?” rafe asks, tugging at the strings of your bikini bottoms, pulling them off of you to reveal your messy cunt. “is his cock as good as mine? what about his mouth?” rafe questions, dropping to his knees to the teak flooring, not needing to hold you down anymore, he knows you’re not going anywhere.

rafe buries his head in between your thighs, moaning when he gets a taste of you, what he missed so much since that one night all those months ago. his tongue laps over every inch of you except for your clit.

“can’t have you feel too good, baby.” rafe laughs, biting your thigh. “not when you stole from me.” “i’m sorry.” you whine, feeling tears pool in your eyes as you reach down and tug on rafes hair, pressing his face back into your cunt.

rafe eats you out greedily, tongue traversing over every inch of you that he can, moving between wide sweeping licks and fast rapid flicks of his tongue, still keeping away from your clit.

“oh my god!” you shout when his tongue prods against your hole, lifting your hips up off the seat, unable to keep yourself still as you place one hand on the back of his head, moving your hips and rubbing your pussy against his awaiting mouth.

“such a slut.” rafe laughs, his words vibrating through you as he finally finally moves up to your clit, sucking harshly at your bud, not caring that you’re screaming from the pleasure.

rafe closes his eyes, focus solely on your cunt as he brings two fingers to your entrance, plunging them into your hole as he attacks your clit, taking it between his teeth and tugging on the sensitive skin, making the tears now roll down your face.

“please, please let me cum!” you scream for rafe, your entire body shaking as your orgasm builds, his fingers starting to thrust in and out of you as he doesn’t let off of your clit, sucking it between his lips as your orgasm hits you.

you cry out rafes name, body going taunt as you squeeze your eyes shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as rafe slows his licks on your clit, moving down to lap around his fingers that are still shoved deep in your cunt.

“taste yourself.” rafe commands, moving so you can kiss him. you don’t hold back, taking rafes face in your hands as you kiss him, jutting your tongue up to lick the juices away from his mouth.

“my little slut.” rafe deepens the kiss, starting to thrust his fingers again.

“ra-rafe stop.” you try halfheartedly to push his hand away, “too sensitive.” “you think i give a shit?” rafe laughs, eyes roaming your chest, taking in the bruises dotting your tanned skin. “you stole from me, bitch.” “i’m sorry.” you cry out, knowing tears are rolling down your cheeks, but you can’t stop them, the pleasure is too overwhelming.

“show me how sorry you are by cumming on my fingers.” rafe says, increasing the speed that he’s moving. you moan despite your best judgment.

rafe is somehow able to stuff a third finger inside of your cunt, stretching you to almost painful levels. you thrash on the sofa, the harsh sun beating down on you. you almost forgot that you were on a boat in broad daylight, so wrapped up in rafe pleasuring you.

rafes lips slot around your nipple again, sucking it repeatedly as you arch your back to push your chest further into his mouth, feeling overwhelmed by the attention he’s giving you, so purely focused on your body.

“i thought about you.” you tell rafe, making him pick his head up to look you in the eye, but his fingers don’t slow. “i thought about you when he fucks me. i wished it was you.”

rafe smirks, twisting his hand so his thumb can rub at your clit while he finger fucks you. “i knew you’d miss my cock once you had it. you could have stayed and been my little slut, my personal fuck toy, but instead you had to steal my coke. do you know how much money you lost me?” “i said i was sorry.” you sob out.

“cum then.” rafe commands, and your orgasm builds rapidly, too quickly, and before you realize what’s happening, wetness is squirting from your cunt, soaking rafes hand and splashing onto the teak floorboards.

“holy fuck.” rafe groans, gripping his cock with his free hand, squeezing through his shorts to give himself some relief.

“st-stop.” you say weakly, and rafe finally listens and pulls his fingers out, pushing your legs wider to admire how pink your abused pussy now is, completely dripping in your juices.

“has he ever made you squirt?” “no, never.” you shake your head.

“it’s a shame.” rafe tsks. “i could have made you feel so good every day.” rafe stands up, glancing around the surrounding waterways, making sure there are still no boats around before unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the muscles hidden beneath.

you are boneless on the couch, body completely relaxed and near numb from the orgasms rafe just pulled from you, but despite that you still feel your cunt pulse when rafe throws his shirt onto the ground, quickly unbuttoning his shorts as well and tugging them down along with his underwear, revealing the hard cock that you’ve missed so much.

“tell me you want this.” rafe commands, stroking his cock while keeping his eyes on you.

“i don’t.” you whimper, but your thighs clench together, watching the precum bead at the tip of rafes cock.

“you don’t want me to fuck you?” rafe asks. “but you’re such a slut, baby.” he coos mockingly.

“please, i have a boyf-”

“don’t mention him again.” rafe cuts you off. “unless you’d like for me to ruin your other hole as well that way no matter how he fucks you you’ll be thinking of me.” you whimper at the thought of rafe abusing your ass and keep your mouth shut.

“turn over.” rafe grabs your hip, forcing you to move on the couch. you place your knees on the cushion, letting rafe bend you over the back of the couch, your head hovering over the water below.

“gonna fuck you so good you’re gonna be begging to come back home with me.” rafe says, hands slapping against your ass, making you yelp.

“such a pretty pussy, fuck.” rafe groans, throwing his head back as he pushes the tip of his cock against your entrance, not pushing in yet, wanting to prolong his teasing.

“please.” you beg, trying to push back onto his cock, but rafe grabs your hips and keeps you still.

“are you asking me to stop?” rafe questions. “or are you asking me to fuck you?”

“i don’t know.” you sob, gripping onto the plastic cushion the best that you can.

rafe hums, “that’s too bad.” and then thrusts forward, burying his cock completely in your cunt in one firm push.

“rafe!” you scream out, pussy clenching down, your walls being stretched by his length.

“no wonder i fell for your act, this is the best pussy i’ve ever felt.” rafe grunts out, snapping his forward, the skin of his thighs slapping against your bum.

“faster.” you moan, but rafe does the opposite and slows instead, keeping his thrusts deep but moving steady and deliberately, letting you feel everything as he takes in the squeeze of your cunt, the tightness of your pussy.

rafe grinds his hips against you, his cock making space for itself, pushing against your sweet spot that has you crying out, past the point of embarrassment about your noises.

“so good.” you moan, knowing that you’re drooling onto the couch.

“i know, baby.” rafe moans as well, pushing his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt, dripping with wetness and coating him.

“can tell how much you’re liking it.” rafe moves faster, hands tightening on your hips, certain to leave marks behind. “can feel you squeezing around me.”

you bury your head in the couch, relieved by the cool press against your forehead, pushing back against rafe, rocking your body backwards to the best of your abilities, your knees sweaty and sticking to the couch.

“need your cock.” you swallow the lump in your throat. “need it every day, please rafe, forgive me, i need you, i don’t care.”

“don’t care about your boyfriend? or your brother?” rafe questions.

“no.” you whine, “just care about your cock.”

rafe fucks you harder, somehow able to find more depth and space. “well, i guess you should have thought about that before stealing from me, slut. i’ll soak my cock in your cunt this once, but you won’t get it again.” “no, rafe, i need it!”

rafe bends over your back to whisper in your ear, “then you work for me now until you pay back what you lost me. you can steal coke from your brother to repay me and then suck my cock. once you’ve paid off your debts, i’ll start fucking you.”

“i’ll do anything.” you don’t even think about what he’s asking, you don’t care, you’d promise anything to keep getting fucked like this.

“i know, baby.” rafe hums, angling his hips so every time his cock presses in, it hits the most sensitive part inside of you.

rafe reaches one hand down, around your hip, to rub over your clit, placing two fingertips on top moving quickly, trying to get you to cum because he can’t last much longer.

“gonna cum inside of you.” rafe warns, and you whine, clit pulsing under his movements.

“fill me up.” you tell rafe, aching for his cum warming your insides.

rafe moans out your name repeatedly, pushing his cock as deep inside of you as it can go, letting his cum fill you up. at feeling his release, your orgasm pushes through your body, seeing stars as you squeeze your eyes shut, cunt fluttering around rafes cock, milking everything out of him that you can.

rafe slumps forward, his cock slipping out of you as you both collapse onto the couch, breathing heavily.

rafe grabs your waist and flips your position so you’re laying on top of him. you rest your head against his chest, letting out a low moan in appreciation as rafe strokes his hand over your hair.

“you mean what you said?” rafe asks, his hand not halting as it glides over the strands of your hair and then down your back.

“yes.” you whisper. you’ve felt far too cooped up these last six months. it’s not like you want to be a drug dealer, so hopefully once you settle your score with rafe and pay him back for what you stole, you’ll be able to absolve yourself from everything.

“then you’re coming home with me.” rafe says, helping you sit up.

“i-i can’t rafe.” you sigh, pushing your hair out of your face. “i need to get back to my brother, i’m not even supposed to be out without security.”

“mmm, you’ll have to figure it out.” rafe shrugs. “you’re coming home with me to start sucking my cock like you promised.”

“okay.” you whisper, not having any energy to argue with rafe, looking down at your destroyed body, covered in bruises and soaked in sweat, cum dripping out of your pussy.

“hey.” rafe says, placing his fingers under your chin and forcing you to look at him. he presses a kiss against your lips, so unlike your other kisses, not devoid of passion but far sweeter, almost like he’s trying to comfort you despite what he just did to you, what he just made you agree to.

“come on.” rafe sighs, standing up. “put your bikini back on, we’re taking my boat.” “okay.” you stand, figuring it’s best now to just follow rafes instructions, not worrying about any consequences as you put your bikini back on, letting rafe help you off of your brothers boat and onto his own.

you take a seat at the back while rafe goes to the helm, watching the abandoned boat as you drive away, wondering what the hell you just got yourself into.

638 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 4 months

Text

Male kelpie (dad-bod, single father, biker) x plus size f. reader - Part One (sfw)

Background info post on the Full Moon Motorcycles group here Oats Appreciation post here

Featuring a plus-size, bisexual, not very confident reader, and a divorced, Scottish, single-dad, biker kelpie with a soft-dad bod and a heart as big as his bike’s engine (possibly bigger).

CW: there is a very brief moment where a character (not Oats!) insults the reader for her size and uses some fat-phobic language towards and about her, unaware that she can hear him. If you’re sensitive to that, it is brief, but you can skip from “…you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.” to the paragraph beginning, “After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror…”. Also, if you squint, there’s a passing moment that could possibly be interpreted as the reader having some potential issues with food, but it’s not intended to be a big deal and it’s only for about two sentences. Still putting it in here too, just in case.

Wordcount: 7562

You pushed open the glass door of Full Moon Motorcycles and willed yourself not to feel self-conscious or out of place.

Having both an older brother and a mother who rode motorbikes had at least given you a fair bit of familiarity with bikes and the general ‘biker culture’, but it was mostly the fact that almost all the ‘biker girls’ you saw posing on social media were slim and toned, which you were decidedly not.

From the utterly foetid takes in the comments section of the one post your brother had shared on his page with you in it, you’d also got the impression that the biker community was not particularly kind to any woman with a waist over 25 inches. It probably wasn’t the case, but your one experience with it had been enough to make you very wary.

And yet, as you made your way towards the bike shop’s counter and the older man with floppy, greying hair and warm brown eyes looked up, you were greeted with an open, welcoming smile.

“Hi there,” he said, standing up with a grunt from the comfy chair where he’d been sitting in the corner near the shop’s antique cash register. “What can I do for you?”

You smiled shyly and glanced along the wooden countertop before returning your gaze to him. “I’m looking for a present for my brother, but I’m kind of on a budget…”

“Gotcha. We’ve got some silly key fobs there,” he said, indicating a rotating display rack at one end of the counter, with mottoes that ranged from funny to explicit, “But if they like working on their bike themselves, you can’t go wrong with some maintenance supplies… Not the most glamorous but I promise they’ll be grateful to you all the same.”

“Could always tie a festive ribbon round it,” you said, and he chuckled and nodded.

“That’s the spirit.”

You eyed the reasonable price of the fobs with some relief, and then followed his gesture towards the various bottles of chain degreaser and the like, and a few other useful tools and kits that were stacked on shelves on the back wall to the right of a door that presumably led into the back and store rooms.

The right hand side of the shop had the counter and some shiny, new bikes that had been parked in a row around the perimeter of the space, and the left hand side was more open with a bench or two against the brick walls, and some red, mechanics’ tool-chests tucked against the back wall. A number of leather two- and one-piece suits hung in racks at the furthest end though, with helmets on shelves and a few rows of t-shirts, jeans, gloves, and boots displayed too. There were oil stains in the centre of the polished concrete floor, and you suspected that tinkering took place there outside of the shop’s usual opening hours.

The whole vibe of Full Moon Motorcycles was friendly and cosy, with a slightly industrial, grungy note for some flavour.

In short, you loved it.

“There are also some fun helmet covers –” the older man chuckled, and added, “A number of the regulars here have them, and there are also some earplugs, or perhaps a tough phone case and mount? A chain care kit? There are some vinyl stickers too, and t-shirts, socks, neck warmers, balaclavas, mugs, helmet care kits, thermals…”

Laughing, you held up your hands for him to stop, and he started to chuckle too.

“I’ll let you browse in peace, sweetheart,” he said, his whisky brown eyes twinkling. Even his un-looked-for endearment came across as kindly instead of creepy, and not many men could pull that off. “You just holler if you have questions and I’ll be happy to –”

The door opened behind you and he broke off as his attention was snagged by the arrival of a heavy-set guy in dark jeans and a softly-worn, black leather jacket. He held a black helmet with a tinted visor in his large hands, and he looked more than a little wind-blown and rumpled.

Incongruous with his rather roguish-dishevelment, a lock of his long, thick, slightly grizzled, black hair was held back by a little hair-clip with a Barbie-pink, fabric bow. It didn’t fit with the dark scruff of stubble on his jaw or the piercing green-blue eyes at all, but he seemed completely unfazed by its presence.

“Oats!” the older man exclaimed with obvious joy, clapping his hands. “It’s been a while, my boy! How was the trip to Scotland? You make it round the NC500 this time?”

The ‘boy’ looked to be in his mid to late thirties…

“Ach, no’ a chance this time, Hank,” the man chuckled with a heavy, Scottish accent lacing his rich, rough baritone. Exactly where in Scotland he was from, you couldn’t tell, but it was lyrical and attractive all the same.

“Ah, next time, next time. And is Natalie well?

“Oh aye, my wee Loch Ness Monster is doing just fine. She’ll be terrorising her mother for the Christmas holidays. I came straight from the road though — clutch started playing up just south of Birmingham.” He grimaced, but even that looked charming somehow. “Sort of hoped you might find a minute to take a look at it for me if I left the Old Girl here. No rush though.”

“No problem, Oats. We’ll get her running properly again in no time. Bet you’re missing little Natalie already,” Hank added sympathetically.

“Ah, you have no idea,” the man, peculiarly-named ‘Oats’, sighed ruefully, shaking his head.

“See she left you with a parting gift though,” Hank snorted, pointing at the bow hair clip.

With a slight frown to his dark eyebrows, Oats reached up and patted at his head until he found it, and then he laughed. It was a loud, delighted, full-bellied sound that reverberated through the space while it lasted, and he left the hair clip where it was with no trace of self-consciousness as he lowered his hand again. “Aye, that she did. Surprised it survived the journey down with my lid on and everything. Oh –” His unusually pale green eyes landed on you, watching him and lurking near the rows of t-shirts on the back wall, and he went still.

Those sea-grey eyes raked you up and down, clearly noting the way your black leggings clung to the curves of your thighs and hips, and the black hoodie, which maybe went some way to hiding the softness of your stomach a bit, and he swallowed visibly. He looked… hungry. That was not the usual reaction you had grown accustomed to from men, and you let the flare of heat lick up your insides for just a moment, daring to hope that maybe he did find you attractive.

“Sorry,” he said in your direction, with a soft, dusky smile. “Didnae mean t’interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” you managed to croak back at him before returning your attention, however reluctantly, to present options for your brother while the older man, Hank, hobbled out around the corner of the wooden counter to chat amicably with the man. You couldn’t hear what was said as the two chatted in lower voices, but it was evident that they were good friends. While they talked, however, you couldn’t help noticing that he stole occasional sidelong glances in your direction, and you felt your face warm pleasantly.

‘Oats’ was certainly an unusual nickname, but then again, almost everyone who rode with your brother also had their own nicknames for one reason or another. As you browsed, you wondered what Oats had done to earn that one. He certainly looked like a snack to you, but you vowed not to let your attraction to the stranger show. Awkward situations (or worse, silences) tended to arise when you let that happen.

He had a tanned, outdoorsy complexion, and longish, black hair that was tied back in a low ponytail that brushed below the collar of his black leather jacket. It looked like it had a tendency to flop into his face when not restrained by that out-of-place pink bow. He filled out the jacket very well, and clearly had a soft paunch, and his thighs looked frankly delectable in those thick, indigo jeans. You prayed you wouldn’t have to see him fully from the back if he turned around, to witness the way he filled out the seat of his jeans too.

Fuck. Concentrate.

Bike gifts for brother, not delicious-looking stranger you’re never going to see again.

“Well, I shouldnae hang about, I suppose.”

Oats’ voice cut through your musings in front of chain degreasers and you jumped a little. Glancing back over at him, you offered him a smile when he too turned to look at you one last time, and a slow, charming smile crept onto his handsome face.

“See you,” he said with a dip of his head. Before he strode from the shop though, he let his eyes roam once more down the length of you and he bit his lower lip, almost regretfully, then turned away abruptly.

Oh yes. He absolutely did fill out the ass of those jeans beautifully.

Quite honestly, you weren’t totally sure what you ended up getting your brother for his birthday. You took whatever it was to the counter in a daze, your mind replaying over and over the way he’d looked at you.

“Must say,” Hank said conspiratorially as he fished your change from the antique cash register and slid it across the polished, wooden counter towards you. “I’ve never seen Oats quite so taken with someone, miss.” He chuckled, his kind, whisky-brown eyes glinting. “You take care now.”

Swallowing, you nodded and left the shop, hoping perhaps to find Oats waiting for you outside on the street, leaning against his motorcycle, but life was not a movie, and wherever he was, he was not lingering in the hopes of seeing you. In fact, the street was completely deserted, so you crossed, clambered into your little hatchback, and drove home with the feeling that you’d let a pivotal moment in your life pass you by.

Your sour mood persisted like a raincloud for the whole week, but by the time you were driving over to your brother’s on Saturday for his birthday ride, you were trying to pull yourself out of it. You had your own helmet with you, secured in the back of the car, and beside it was (now wrapped) the present you’d got him. In fact, it was a chain care kit, and, although you hadn’t noticed at the time, Hank had thrown in a free keychain that said ‘In my defence, I was left unsupervised’ which was very on-brand for your brother. You had planned to go back and thank him for the freebie as soon as you could, but your brother’s birthday ride had been planned for that Saturday, and work had been hell that week, so you’d not had the chance.

Predictably, Alex wasn’t in the house when you rang the doorbell, so you followed the sound of metallic clinking and laughter, and went round the side to find him tinkering with his mad little Honda Grom in the garage, while his two best mates — Eggs and Sparky — were lounging around and either making unhelpful suggestions or lewd comments.

“Yo!” Sparky grinned when he saw you, sitting up straighter and almost falling off the mechanic’s tool chest he was leaning his weight against. At Sparky’s exclamation, your brother sat up and banged his head on the handlebars of the short little Grom with a curse.

“Hey,” you mumbled in Sparky’s general direction. “Happy birthday, Alex.”

Alex scrambled upright and came over to hug you, probably smearing grease and dirt all over your armoured jacket, but since it was black anyway, you didn’t mind too much. Alex was about as opposite to you as it was possible to get — straight up and down like a beanpole, and tall. You took after your mother, inheriting all her thick curves and soft edges. Soft heart too.

“Thought this might come in handy,” you mumbled when Alex released you and you held out the brown paper bag stamped with the logo of Full Moon Motorcycles.

His eyes lit up when he saw the logo, and he tore into it like a chipmunk after a peanut, grinning in delight when he’d dismembered it, and in particular he showed off the keychain to his mates. Eggs snatched it and tried to claim it for himself, but Alex was having none of it, and the three of them scrapped and goofed around while you sat down on an old, metal stool in the corner and waited for the other two of your small party to show up, with a cool, curdling kind of dread in the pit of your stomach when you heard one name in particular. Nooner.

Within an hour though, you were all out on the road.

You took the pillion seat behind Alex, and warded his mates off at red lights when they came for his killswitch to immobilise him. A while later though, Alex zoomed off down the open road that would take you all out of town and towards the somewhat famous biker cafe, ‘Elusive Neutral’, that sat nestled amongst the fragrant heather of the rolling hills surrounding the old market town.

The sky was a gorgeous, autumnal blue and the weather was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold, and as your brother’s Yamaha flew along the winding A-road that was every biker’s dream, you cracked a smile and gently tipped your head back. As much as it had scared you when you’d first ridden behind your mother all those years ago, you did love the feeling of being out on a bike. Not that you were actually brave enough to want to try and learn yourself though. Something always held you back, made you wary and unsure, and then you inevitably felt down about that too. God, you wished you had Alex’s wild confidence.

Nothing good ever seemed to last for you though, and when Alex’s R1 had purred into the car park behind Eggs and Sparky, and you’d hopped off to let him reverse more easily into a space, you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.

“…if he didn’t have his fat sister with him, we could have fucking ripped it up along those twisties.” That, of course, had come from Nooner, named for the fact that he rarely stuck to two wheels and always pulled wheelies, or ‘nones’, whenever he got the chance. Out of all of your brother’s friends, he was the one you liked the least, for… obvious reasons.

“Talk about killing the vibes, huh?” Eggs replied, trying to suck up to him, as ever. “More like ‘crushing’!”

The reason Eggs had earned his nickname was that he’d lost a bet and shaved his head when they’d all been about sixteen, and he’d looked like a boiled egg til it grew back. You wished you had the sass to remind him of that every time his spine seemed to crumble in favour of earning a half-hearted snicker out of Nooner.

When Alex joined you, he caught the crestfallen expression on your face and frowned, but you shook your head and walked away from them, heading for the cafe alone.

“Can’t wait to shove some cake in her fat gob already,” Nooner added as an aside to Eggs, and your vision blurred as tears welled along your lashes. Why did people have to be so cruel? To trample all over someone else just to feel a little taller themselves?

You vaguely heard what sounded like Sparky’s voice countering the comment, but you didn't stick around either way. If you mentioned it to your brother again, he’d just say it was banter with the guys and not to take it to heart. Easy for someone who's never been on the end of that kind of comment to shrug it off, after all.

You ducked straight for the toilets when you got inside the airy, modern cafe, not even bothering to look around or find a table first.

After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror to see that you hadn’t turned your eyeliner into a panda cosplay, you headed out again and made for the little bar that doubled as a counter for people who were there solo to sit and eat instead of taking up a whole table to themselves. None of your brother’s friends joined you, and when you glanced back over your shoulder, you saw that they’d settled themselves around a table in the far corner and already had a number for a server to bring their food order over. They hadn’t even waited for you.

“Fuck them,” you hissed through gritted teeth, taking a seat at the bar instead. The stools were made of old tractor seats, and they were surprisingly comfortable, and as you leaned your forearms on the countertop, the young woman behind the counter came over to you with a smile that made you feel a little better.

“Hey,” she said. “What can I get for you?”

You ordered a hot drink, and then took out your phone while you waited for her to make it for you.

For half an hour or so, you sat scrolling through social media and sipping your drink and telling yourself this was your brother’s day and not yours. He did come over a couple of times, but you declined to sit with his friends, and because he’d never had any real reason to doubt you before, he took you at your word when you told him you were happy enough where you were. “I don’t want to get in the way,” you said, and he believed you.

Patting you on the shoulder, he left you for the third time, and you looked down into the dregs of your drink with a heavy sigh. “This sucks.”

Outside, the sound of more bikes arriving made your ears perk up, and you wondered idly what they rode. Elusive Neutral had once been an old cattle barn, but it had been completely redone and the walls on two sides had been replaced with vast picture windows that showed the sweeping expanse of moorland beyond, and a small sliver of the car park at one end. Craning your neck, you saw a group of maybe five or six bikers draw up, some on hipster looking cafe racers and others on racy sports bikes. There was even a Ducati Panigale among them, and behind them followed an old, battered, blue pickup truck.

The door opened a little while later, and you glanced over, eyes drawn instinctively by the movement.

Above the general chatter and merry chinking of china in the room, the energy of the new group of bikers rose like a cloud of dizzy mayflies; buzzing and excited and full of joy. You watched them all with interest from your perch at the counter.

The first through the door was an absolute Amazon of a woman, with her long black hair restrained in a thick braid, and shoulders the width of a barn door. She was lean and tall, and in her biker gear she looked… incredible. Her face was strikingly handsome, but until she glanced down at the woman walking beside her, her features were hard and glowering and unspeakably stern. She held the door open for one of the others to follow her inside, but when she locked eyes again with the brunette by her side, her whole expression melted into unguarded adoration. Your gut twisted briefly with jealousy.

It wouldn’t matter to you who looked at you like that, if only someone would.

You looked away, and by the time you glanced back at the bikers, the whole group had filed in from outside. There was a guy with golden-brown skin and beautiful dark brown eyes who had his arm wrapped possessively around the waist of a pale, skinny guy in black jeans and a moth-eaten, black jumper, with his long hair tied back in a bun, and behind them came a strikingly attractive guy in a manual wheelchair, flanked by a very short biker with slightly anaemic looking skin. You wondered fleetingly if the guy in the wheelchair had ridden a motorbike there, and if so how, before you realised he was probably the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, with long, flowing red hair and dark green eyes, and the kind of mouth that was made for laughing, and for kissing.

Jesus, was it an unwritten rule of being a biker that you had to be unfairly attractive? Even Hank, who you recognised with a start of surprise coming in behind the guy with red hair, wasn’t unattractive, in a bulky, older man kind of way.

The guy walking with him though… he truly made your stomach swoop.

It was Oats.

You looked away before he could spot you, sitting alone at the bar like some pathetic creature waiting for cocktail hour to begin. It was lunchtime on a sunny, autumnal Saturday though, and there you were sitting alone because you didn’t fancy sitting with your brother’s loser mates.

God, the way Oats had looked in his tough-looking leather jacket, with his eyes crinkled mid-laugh at something the guy in the wheelchair had shot back at them over his shoulder… You bit your lip and stared into the bottom of your cold, empty mug like it would divine some kind of solution to your situation for you.

The new group didn’t seem to notice you while they filed up to the counter, jostling and joking, and when they drifted off to another corner of the cafe, you turned back to your phone, trying desperately to resist the almost overwhelming urge to keep turning over your shoulder to watch them.

Before too long however, you startled at a soft tap on your shoulder, and you looked around to find Oats himself stepping back to a polite distance and smiling down at you like he’d found a treasure in an unexpected place.

“Hey there,” he said in that rolling, Scottish accent that did unspeakably indecent things to your insides. “Sorry if I’m intruding, but you were at Full Moon last week, right?”

Mute for a moment, you nodded, and mustered up a slightly dazed smile for him.

“You… here alone?” he asked, eyeing the currently-empty seats to your left and right. In fact, someone had only just gathered up their belongings and left.

“Kind of?” you croaked, letting your eyes slide over to the table where your brother and his friends were hunched over one of their phones, snickering at something. “It’s… It’s my brother’s birthday today. I… tagged along as pillion, but… you know… I’m kind of a spare part really.”

At that, Oats’ dark eyebrows knitted into a scowl and he looked across the room at them before returning his attention to you. Then, his unearthly, almost prismatic, silver-green eyes took in your empty cup and he grinned. “Can I get y’a top up?”

Your instinct was to refuse, but you bit your lip. This didn’t feel real. A cute, handsome, courteous guy was actually taking an interest in you.

“Sure. Thank you.” And the smile that spread itself across your face telegraphed your delight in a way that was impossible to disguise with any kind of suave grace.

Oats, however, seemed equally delighted, and nodded. The barista came back over and he leaned his weight on the counter to talk to her. He seemed to have that enviably easy manner with everybody, and he even charmed a free slice of cake out of her too with what felt like no effort at all.

“Chocolate? Or something else?” he asked you.

“Pardon?”

“Cake.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” you said, but he frowned.

“You sure? I’m gonna have a bit of their chocolate cake. It’s so good, it’s practically a sin.”

“I…” you faltered.

He didn’t pressure you though and shrugged easily, turning back to the barista. “Gimme two forks with that, love. Just in case.”

“No problem,” she beamed back while she bustled about, and Oats eyed the empty bar stool next to yours.

“May I?”

You swallowed your nerves and nodded. “Please.” And then, because apparently a demon of confidence had temporarily possessed you, you eyed his slightly helmet-flattened forelock and said, “No pink hair clips today?”

He guffawed loudly enough that your brother actually glanced over and frowned when he saw you talking with a stranger.

Oats snorted and shook his head. “No, not today. My daughter is still up in Scotland with her mother.” He fixed you with a more serious look and said, “She and I divorced, before you get the wrong idea about me flirting like this with a beautiful woman.”

The compliment caught you so off-guard that you just froze for a moment, but when the heat of a blush filled your face, you looked away and he chuckled.

“I’m not normally so forward, but I’ve been kicking myself for not talking to you when I first saw you in Full Moon. Hank was telling me just this morning what a muppet I’d made of myself for walking away like that.”

You looked behind you at the group of his friends and then turned back to him. “Won’t they think you’re being rude, ignoring them like this?”

He shook his head and smiled. “They’re probably all taking bets on how quickly you’ll shoot me down.”

“What? I’d have to be an idiot to do that.”

At that, his face split into a huge, handsome grin and he shook his head just a little. “Lucky me,” he said. “You ride?” he added, eyeing your jacket that was obviously a motorcycle jacket.

You shrugged. “Pillion. I’ve never ridden myself, but my brother lets me come out with him sometimes.”

Oats nodded, and then, as the barista set down his coffee, your top-up, and the plate of decadent chocolate cake with two forks, he said, “I’m Euan, by the way, but everyone calls me Oats.”

You introduced yourself, and then said, “Oats?”

He snorted and nodded. “Not the worst nickname, for sure.”

“Can I ask where it came from?”

Oats nodded and shunted the plate towards you first before leaning his elbow on the bar and watching you while he spoke. “I think it’s because I’m a dad, but I’m always prepared for most situations, and when it comes to my Natalie, she’s always hungry. I’ve usually got about a thousand granola bars stashed away about my person —” he said, cutting himself off to pat conspicuously at his jacket pockets. Pulling a slightly dog-eared crunchy bar from his breast pocket, he wielded it like a magic wand at you and said, “Case in point.”

“Hence, Oats,” you said, eyeing the healthy brand name on the packet.

“Exactly. Like I said, it could be worse. See the tall lass over there with the dangerous scowl?”

You didn't need to turn around to know which of his friends he was talking about, but you did anyway. “Yeah.”

“We call her Pixie.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” he chuckled, stowing the granola bar back into his pocket and taking a huge scoop of the chocolate cake with his own fork.

“What do you ride then?” you asked.

“Triumph Bonneville T120,” he said with almost exactly the same intonation and fondness as he’d just said ‘because I’m a dad’, and you couldn’t help smiling. “Can’t be doing with all these glitzy sports bikes and the like,” he added with a laugh, setting his fork down and blinking slowly. His lashes, you noticed, were thick and dark and enticingly long.

Laughing, you smiled. “Don’t say that too loudly — my brother rides an R1.”

“Nice,” Oats grinned back. “But nothing could entice me away from my girl.”

“I’m surprised you’re here, flirting with me then,” you said. Evidently that confidence demon was still lurking.

Again, Oats laughed, though it was more of a low whicker this time, and it rolled right through you and lit you up all over. God, how long had it been since someone had laughed like that for you?

“There are… exceptions,” he said in a rumbling murmur. “Tell me about yourself?” he asked, and you did.

You spent the next hour at least talking in an easy back and forth with him while he charmed a few more refills from the barista and a lot of answers out of you, before one of his friends sidled up shyly and waited for a lull in your conversation.

“Sorry to butt in,” the small, unbelievably beautiful woman said. She was the one who’d been on the receiving end of the adoring look from the Amazon, ‘Pixie’. She had chocolate-brown hair falling in thick ringlets around a gorgeous face, and, you were pleased to note, she had wide hips and a softness to her that a lot of the biker chicks you’d seen online didn’t have.

“Coco,” Oats beamed. “Meet my new friend.” He introduced you by name, and Coco smiled at you, holding out her hand.

When your palms connected, you felt a warmth rush through you and you felt like your heart skipped a beat. The feeling like you could tip forwards and drown in her endless, dark brown eyes almost unseated you, but she let go of you and stepped back with a pretty smile on her Cupid’s-bow lips. “Pleasure to meet you. Just wanted to tell Oats that we’re thinking of heading off soon. Ariel has a photoshoot he wants to get to in an hour or so, and Demon’s keen to get going as well.”

Oats nodded, and you tried not to let your stomach drop down to your boots at the thought of all this coming to such an abrupt end.

Coco turned her head sharply to look at you just as the feeling hit, and she smiled faintly. “You could always stay here though, Oats,” she added with a pretty smile. “We’re only going back to Full Moon, and Demon clearly has no intention of lingering there…” She shot a meaningful glance back at their table. Demon, the guy with dark hair and tanned skin, was seated with the guy he’d entered with now draped in his lap, his skinny legs dangling as he sprawled languidly back against the guy’s muscular chest. Demon whispered something into his ear before he clearly bit the shell of his boyfriend’s ear, which made him sit abruptly upright and flush a vibrant pink.

Oats laughed again and shook his head. “Fuck me,” he chuckled privately. “Never thought I’d see the day. You guys go on. I’m… I’m very much content here.”

“I can see that,” Coco smirked, and walked away.

When she was out of earshot, you turned to Oats with a hot flush of your own in your face and said, “Don’t stay if you don’t want to… I’m sure my brother will be leaving soon anyway…”

Just as you said that, and before Oats could reply, Alex reappeared at your side and jutted his chin in Oats’ direction. “You good?” he chirped at you.

“Fine,” you replied. “This is Oats. I met him at Full Moon Motorcycles when I was buying your birthday present.”

“Oh,” Alex replied, holding out his hand for Oats to shake. “Good to meet you, man. You tell her what to get for me? If you did, it was a good choice.”

“No,” Oats said carefully, his grey-green eyes sliding back to your face even while he shook your brother’s hand amicably. “No, whatever she got you, it was all her.”

“Oh, cool,” Alex said. “Listen, sis, we’re gonna hit the road in a while. Nooner and Eggs want to hit the twisties for a bit, but I can’t really do that with a backpack, so Sparky said he’d give you a ride home, if that’s ok.”

You swallowed. “Um…”

“I can give her a lift,” Oats replied after a swift glance in your direction. “She’s already got her own lid, and there’s room on the Bobber’s double seat for both of us.”

“I don’t know, man,” Alex said with a wary frown.

“Your choice,” Oats shrugged easily, looking at you and holding his hands up just a little.

For a fleeting moment, you weren’t sure, but the idea of wrapping your arms around Oats’ thick middle and sitting astride his gorgeous bike kind of decided it for you. Besides, it was a long time since you’d done anything truly just for yourself; simply because you wanted to. You nodded at your brother. “It’s fine. You go ahead.”

“You sure?”

Nodding to reassure him, you smiled again and Alex backed up a pace. “Cool. Text me later, ok?” he said as he retreated towards his friends, clearly trying to hide his excitement at not having a passenger for the great, twisting section of A-road they were heading for.

“Will do. Have fun, and don’t crash!” you called after him. “Or get a speeding ticket!”

He waved a hand over one shoulder without looking back, and you laughed and returned your attention to Oats. “Brothers.”

“Bikers,” he replied. “You try telling that to any of that lot though —” he gestured towards his own group of friends who were now filtering out of the door. “You ready to head out too or do you want to stay?”

You did want to stay, but the seat wasn’t that comfortable anymore, and you wanted to move around a bit. “No, I’m good to go,” you said and prepared to slide off the stool, but Oats stepped down first and held out his hand to you. You didn't need helping down, and his playful little smirk told you he knew as much, so you rode out the last of that demonic possession and let your fingers slide across his palm and he steadied you off the stool.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Pleasure.”

You picked up your helmet from where you’d stowed it on the floor at your feet and straightened to find him waving casually across the room to the good-looking guy with the ethereally pretty boyfriend. Before he stepped away from you and made towards the door though, you cleared your throat and said, “Oats?”

“Mn?” Looking down at you, his entire attention honed in on you, like you were the centre of the universe, and you swallowed back a sudden welling of emotion.

“Listen… Thank you… for… coming over to me today. Like I said, it’s my brother’s birthday, and he was here with his friends, and he only included me so I didn’t feel completely left out, but…” Accursed tears washed over your eyes for a moment but you blinked them away furiously and ploughed on regardless. “I’m really glad I came along today anyway,” you finished rather pathetically.

His full, beautiful lips curled into a gentle smile and he blinked softly and exhaled. When he spoke, his voice was low and his words private, as though you weren’t standing in a busy cafe surrounded by people and the cheerful clatter of coffee cups and laughter. “I’m really glad I did too. I wasn’t going to, you know? I was going to stay at home and edit a boatload of raw photographs for a client, but Demon convinced me to come out. I guess I owe him.”

“‘Demon’? For… For the speed?” you asked, wondering how he came by his nickname.

“For the horns,” Oats replied in deadpan humour. “Have a look if he’s still there when we go outside. You ready?”

You followed him out of the cafe with a nod, and just as you took a deep, indulgent breath of fresh, heathland air, Oats’ group of friends filed out past you on their bikes. The one named Demon was in the lead, and the nickname made immediate sense. Sitting astride a blood-red Panigale, with his boyfriend clinging on behind him like a limpet, the guy had pale, curving horns fixed to the crown of his helmet.

“Yeah, that tracks,” you said, and Oats waggled his dark eyebrows.

The Amazon had a Yamaha R1 like your brother’s, but hers had a pearl-white wrap that made it look almost spectral, and riding out in front of her was Coco on a yellow and black Honda Hornet.

The telltale red plait told you that the guy in the wheelchair was on a modified Kawasaki, with unusual struts at the back that looked like they would come down when he stopped to stabilise him instead of having to take his legs off the foot pegs, where they were currently Velcro-ed in place. Watching the whole group file out was Hank, standing beside a battered old pickup. In the bed of the truck, you could just see that the red-headed biker’s wheelchair secured in place.

Hank waved the last of them off, then glanced over at Oats. The older man lifted his nose just a little, as if he too was enjoying the fresh, moorland wind that whipped across the car park, and he nodded once at Oats, and then at you to your surprise, before clambering stiffly up into his pickup and closing the door. It shut with a raucous yelp of rusty hinges.

You stood there and watched Oats’ friends all file out, all waving at Oats as they passed, before they set off down the road in a roar of revving engines to leave a lonely looking Bonneville waiting patiently near the stone wall of the car park nearby.

“Yours, I presume?” you said, nodding at it.

“Yup.”

“She’s a beauty,” you mumbled, self-consciousness prickling at the sides of your neck for the silly comment.

Oats beamed though, his sea-foam eyes lighting up as the crinkles around his eyes and the slight dimples in his cheeks creased under the force of his obvious pleasure. “Thank you. She’s my pride and joy. You ready? Oh, wait, you should put your address into my phone before we get going,” he laughed.

You nodded, taking the offered phone from him. Your fingers brushed against his warm skin as you took it, and a tiny thrill passed through you that you did your best to quash. With your address plugged in and a route home waiting to be followed, you handed it back to him and looked up into his handsome, rugged face as he smiled.

“Cheers. Let’s go,” he said, and you trailed along beside him over to his bike, heartbeat thudding in your ears with your nerves.

He swung a leg over and turned the key, then pushed the bike upright and nudged the side-stand in with his left foot before flicking the switch and bringing the bike to life. She growled beautifully, the low, thundering rumble of her engine sounding far more visceral and primal than your brother’s sports bike did. Perhaps it was the design of the lower-slung Bonneville, with its visible parts that made you think of a Steampunk aesthetic, but you instantly preferred it. Plus, the double seat looked way more cushioned — and less precarious — than the one you’d perched on to get to the cafe that morning.

Oats got himself comfy while you slid your helmet on, then he looked over his shoulder at you and nodded, so you took that as your cue and got settled on the pillion seat behind him. The footpegs were already down. The pulsing purr of the machine beneath you was almost enough to distract you from the fact that you were entrusting your life to a relative stranger, whom you’d never seen ride before, and as you climbed on and rested your hands politely on his shoulders, you felt a shiver travel through your whole nervous system.

“Do whatever’s comfortable for you, obviously,” Oats said over the noise of his bike, “But if you want to hold my waist — if you can actually get your arms around my middle, that is,” he chuckled self-effacingly, “— feel free. Totally up to you.”

“Thanks,” you yelled back, and, because apparently that pesky demon of confidence was still kicking around, you hugged his torso.

It was wonderful.

Slowly snaking your arms around his middle, you felt your chest press against his back and you caught the way he inhaled slowly and tried not to wonder what it meant. It felt so good to hold him that you had to remind yourself it wasn’t a hug. It was to keep you in place while a gorgeous stranger drove you home on his equally gorgeous bike. With a final thumbs-up to check you were happy, to which you replied with a nod of your head and tried not to clack your helmet against his, he pulled away and your heart leapt for the sheer joy of it.

Where the R1 was built for sleek speed and bursts of power, the Bonneville was build to be enjoyed, and oh gosh, did you enjoy every curve.

And not just the curves in the road, either.

Oats was soft, but he was solid, and the urge to rest one hand on his thick thigh was almost overwhelming, until he took the corners at just the right pace to be exhilarating without you having to worry about your safety, and you clung on instead and laughed behind the safety of your visor.

It was all over way too soon, and as the Bonneville chugged into your road like a steam train and halted outside your poky, terraced house with its quaint little kitchen garden out the front in the postage-stamp of space between the pavement and the house, your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. Please don’t let this be it, you thought desperately.

You went through the motions of getting carefully off the bike without staggering or falling, and again, Oats held out his hand to help steady you. You gripped his fingers gratefully and when you gave an extra little squeeze to his hand at the end, you could have sworn he answered with one of his own and a throaty chuckle.

He dismounted too, which surprised you, and you wondered if you were going to have to ask him inside. As much as you wanted that in principle, you desperately didn’t want it to happen today because the house was a mess: laundry was still hanging up all over the place, and you’d cooked a curry the previous night and it was definitely still lingering in the air.

Oats took off his helmet but left his bike idling, which went a little way to reassuring you, and when you looked more closely at his expression, you thought you saw a hint of something familiar lingering in the corners of his eyes. Was he nervous?

Swallowing thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing behind the thick, 5 o’clock shadow that looked like it lingered pretty constantly no matter the time of day, Oats took a deep breath, held it, and then smiled at you. “Fuck,” he exhaled, and laughed. “I’m… very rusty at all this.” He held his helmet in both hands before him, toying with the strap.

“If I gave you my number, would you maybe like to meet up again?” you asked, taking pity on the man.

“Very much,” he said softly. “Like I said, Natalie is with her mum for the holidays, and apart from a wedding I’m covering next week, this is a pretty slow time of year for me. I’m free… mostly whenever.”

The reminder that he had a daughter with someone else did make you wonder what you were letting yourself in for. Children weren’t really something you had any expense of, since neither you nor your brother had shown any parental inclinations yet, and you weren’t particularly close to your cousins who had small kids.

“Ok, let me give you my number and we can figure something out.”

That done, he slid his phone back into his pocket and zipped it up, biting gently at his lower lip for a moment. “I know it’s bold,” he said, “But may I kiss you?”

Your heart skipped and soared. Breathless, you looked up at him and whispered, “Yes.”

His tiny, gentle, lopsided smile heralded the kiss’ approach, and he took your jaw delicately in one, leather-gloved hand as he leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. They were soft but insistent against yours, and you answered with a little moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

He groaned, pulling you closer with a low growl so that you were pressed flush against him for a moment before he stepped back and exhaled roughly. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Thank you. I’ll… I’ll see you soon?”

You nodded, feeling like you were floating inches above the ground.

You watched him re-mount his bike and adjust himself a little once he was settled, then he revved it playfully for you, and rode away after a final look back at you. He flipped his visor down as he pulled away, and you watched the bike and its rider disappear down the road.

‘Soon’ couldn’t come soon enough…

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