Dandydrunky - Creepycanopy

I would just like to say no matter what x reader I pair with Barry they will be down bad for each other. Nasty, sticky, sweaty, dirty, gritty , just downright horrendous in love.

Last two are SERIOUSLY debatable, but peoples choice, so choose wisely.

Yall chose Topper over JJ over POPE??!!! And poor JB, damn. Give these men (not Topper) the love they deserved

The last one is debatable, but if majority wins...

Unrelated to OBX

Sorry to all my wrestling fans out there, like so sorry. I don't write for them, on this blog, but I do enjoy content about them.

My advice, get them out while you still can.

Those fics sitting in your drafts. Post them. Get it out and grieve.

And a moment of silence for the love and respect that is not reciprocated through these thoughts and actions.

Authors continue, discontinue, I support YOU and YOUR work, not the politics bullshit.

Stay strong.

Relief

Barry x reader

summary; in which cramps are kicking your ass your boyfriend comes in clutch

Content warnings; fingering, stimulation, long hair Barry, reader is ovulating, overstimulation, mention of periods and pain, gumming, hair pulling, sensitive!grumpy!reader, playful banter, dry humping

A/n; Barry’s a drug dealer, we know this. Not proof read

Word count; 1.8k

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"This is bullshit," you grumbled to yourself, arching your back up, pressing your palms square against the patch of carpet you cleared for this excerise, chin up as instructed.

Despite dealing with this since being a pre-teen you have yet to find an efficient way to alleviate the severity of cramps. Why you resorted to google for relief.

So, here you are, holding the cobra position that allegedly allieives pressure around the hips and lower back.

You didn't believe it made a difference as you inhaled slowly, the knot around your pelvis following the pained breath.

This was such a stupid idea. Especially since despite your current activity you're trying to reduce unnecessary movement.

This was the fourth thing you've tried in the last ten minutes and it seemed to enhance your discomfort. While the reality appeared to be you were just to impatient to anticipate the results of your efforts the truth was Google was partly to blame with how unreliable some of the suggestions are.

You dragged your knees beneath you, coming into a seat on your heels, you swiped your phone up closing the search tab, shuffling over to the leather couch on your knees, very delicately rising into a quick squat. You pushed yourself against the seat of the couch as the door had opened, your ankles crossing to contain yourself.

"Do I even wanna know?" Barry asked, tossing his keys over the ashtray by the door. "Only if you ask," you replied leaning against the armrest.

Barry shrugged, heading over to the kitchen, the door rattling with glasses as he pulled out a beer, capping it off on the counter, walking back through the living room.

"Alright, what were you doing?" He asked, taking a seat beside her, kicking his feet up against the glass coffee table, tucking his hair back.

"Yoga," you answered, turning to face him. "Which position is this?" He pointed to you leaned against the couch, phone in hand, the other propping your head up.

"Uh, think it was called I quit, you can find it between never again and hell no," being active was literally the last thing you wanted on your period.

"Well you don't do that shit no way. Why not pop some shit like a regular person?" He asked, setting his drink against his lap, holding it between his thighs, the ends of his shorts scrunching up.

"Because I don't trust nothing 'round here. You got a pill for anything, back hurt, neck hurt, need help getting it up? You got it," last time you took some kind of reliever from Barry it was an edible.

"Well, depends on what you need help with," he shrugged, throwing an arm over the couch, raising an eyebrow prompting you to roll your eyes at him. "Cramps. But every time I take something from you I end up high as hell."

"Shit, you want to feel better or not?" Believe it or not he was actually trying to help. "I found a couple alternatives-" "any that work?"

You knew he was probably right and since he was home he could give you the right medication this time. So, you thought about it.

Between the pointless poking of various body parts, excessive hydration and massaging sore spots nothing had helped. You looked to him, your face setting to not give away a potential yes.

"No, and the rest of the alternatives are unhelpful. Things like avoid caffeine, drink water, and 'quit smoking', like I asked how to stay hydrated rather than how to get rid of them."

"Sounds like you outta options," he mumbled, pressing his lips against the beer bottle, watching you sigh in defeat.

Your eyes flickered in annoyance, watching the little smirk curl on his lips. "Alright," you let up, knowing you were desperate at this point.

"But you're taking full responsibility if something happens," Barry dismissed you, getting to his feet. "Where are you going?" You asked, watching him step over your legs, pulling his shirt from around him, "I'll be back."

You leaned back, a pout on your face, watching him disappear into your shared room.

He came out seconds later, stuffing something in his pocket.

"What's that?" "I told you I'll take care of it, I'll take care if it," he teased, walking back into the kitchen. The sink runs over the sound of dishes cluttering, the spongy sound of the soap dispenser sounding as he looked over to you, rubbing his hands together.

At least he was being clean you thought, watching him flick his hands over the sink, then swipe them off on the towel tossed over the counter.

"Get comfortable،" he warned, sitting beside you, his hand falling to your thigh, giving it a squeeze, you let him lift your leg, slowly, uncrossing your ankles.

"So," he started, scooting closer with the help of his knuckle against the seat, his knee knocking against yours.

"Something you haven't considered..." His hand on your thigh slipped between your legs, pressing against your crotch. You eyes followed, hand following his, falling over his smooth skin.

"Seriously?" He wants to do this now?

"You asked for my help," he shrugged, "yeah, I'm starting to reconsider," you teased, clamping your thighs around him.

His dull fingers gripped your thigh, making your legs part slightly. "Just trust me," to which you hummed in response.

His burning grasp on your leg climbed up your waistline to the hem of your leggings. While shorts would have been more convenient since you were deadly afraid of tampons, you'd stick to pads and with that came the need of a solid hold that would prevent shifting.

So you leaned back, allowing his index to drag the band down enough to slip his hand against against your warm skin, skimming straight over to your folds, curling his fingers inside, making your hips move back.

Barry scoffed, continuing to brush over your clit, just stroking two fingers over the sensitive bud, you flinched feeling him press against your slick walls. "Goddamn girl," he exclaimed, digging his hand deeper, the tip of his middle finger circling your entrance.

A hum fell from you lips as you tried to focus on the sensations of his hand pressing against you, his movements slick as your legs wobbled together.

Barrys eyes flicked over yours, a disapproving glare fell over him, his free hand slipped beneath your thigh, placing you calf over his lap, parting your legs for more room as he pinched your clit, smoothing over it with the tick of his thumb.

You felt his hand brace itself against the fat of your ass, followed by a deliberate tug, making you recline further into your seat, leg part even further and then a firm grip pinning you in place.

"Don't run from it," his voice distracting you from the heat rising beneath you, the twirling of his fingers had you squirming in your seat, "Just breathe, breathe through it," he advised, slowing his movements down.

He spent the next couple of minutes stroking your clit and dipping just the tip of his fingers in you, feeling you tremble beneath him.

He winded you up and down keeping his movements short and sweet, he had gotten closer, know with your lap pressed against his thighs, your hips sunken, offering him more room, he kept to his minimal ministrations, pinching and pleasing your drenched cunt.

And that was just foreplay, once he had you relaxed, panting to yourself in your corner he reached in his pocket, pulling out a little plastic bag with a white substance.

"What's that?" "All your problems gone away, huh?" He kept steady, increasing the pace, watching your hands still your boobs from moving, painfully hard against your palms.

He enjoyed watching you, his thrust now up and teasing, his body moving forward with each, his lips falling to your jaw, eliciting a string of whimpers from the pain and pleasure.

He reached for the bag, bringing the plastic to his lips, he pulled away from your flourished skin, bringing the substance to his nose, giving it a huff, he sits it against his knee.

While you were just about reeling from the escalated encounter, he still kept his hand at work, prepping the powder.

Your lips parted, chest moving up with your breathing, he took the opportunity to push against your jaw, your first instinct to bite at his hand, he retaliated with a haste kiss, opening you up again, he mowed his fingers over your gums, capturing your protest with his encouraging whispers.

It tasted bitter to you, unpleasant, but as quickly as it appeared it stopped, a sudden loss of feeling in your mouth, the rawness of your lips against Barry’s had made you lean into, a hand eagerly slipping into his hair.

Your nails scratched at his scalp, tugging at his hair, earning the sink of his teeth into your plush lower lip.

"Yeah, you like that," he whispered into you, licking at the roof of your mouth. All of it was so euphoric and overwhelming, you had slipped out of reality for a minute, and you floated on cloud nine for what felt like hours.

The troubles of cramps seemed a thing of the past, the only tightness you felt were your walls fluttering around Barry’s fingers, spiraling through your g spot.

"Almost there, now," he cooed, pulling you up against his lap, he backed his hips in sync with his prodding, moans rolling from your lips, the sweet melody with his gyrations had the coiled wringing in your stomach, the floodgates opening as a pleasureful wave of calm washed over you with the release of lower tension.

"There you go," he whispered, placing wet kisses on your neck, his hand still playing with your worn clit, he focused on the excess stimulation even as your body softened against his, the muscles of your thighs instinctually clamping around his hand, shaking against him.

While you recovered Barry gripped your hip, slipping you from atop his lap, letting you go limp beside him, eyes wide, lips parted, and the occasional hiccup, feeling the strain of his fingers against your folds.

The overstimulating and the temporary high from the coke had skyrocketed you to cloud nine and as soon as the cloud disappeared you floated back down to earth, crashing against the head of the couch.

Barry held a cocky smirk watching you come down, the orgasm still fresh on you, you looped your arm through his, putting your head on his lap. He finally withdrew his fingers, seeing them glossed in arousal and the tiniest amount of blood, he chuckled standing up, making you groan at the loss of contact.

He went to clean himself up, coming back later to you passed out where he had left you. He snickered at the sight, coming back to his place at your side, bouncing against the cushion he leaned forward grabbing his abandoned beer, eyeing the left over coke.

Sticky

Warnings; Barry being Barry, grinding, licking, swearing, attempted undressing, smoking, overstimulation (if you squint), heavy making out, Rafe being sour, established relationship, ass slapping (briefly)

A/n; TBH this is self indulgent, 🫣 There is a plot-ish

Word count; 2.5k

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You were napping, your head cradled in your sleepy state, nose tucked into the crease of your elbow, leg propped up at the perfect angle and your backside tooted up a little more than usual, resting in all its glory, the only surfaced thing on the sunken mattress.

Normally you would be sprawled out all over the sheets, arms thrown over your head or to the side, whatever felt right, and of course the blanket you so desperately clung to ended up wrung around your waist, thrown over your leg, the other limply hanging over the edge of the bed.

The sound of Barry's obnoxious laughter echoed down the hall, following him into his mess of a room, his flipflops knocking stray beer bottles over as he pushed forward, noticing you for the first time in ever that he's seen you on one side of the bed, comfortably laid out, well one and a half if he's being technical, but still.

It was a sight to see, your pajamas hanging around you, tight around your arms due to being curled somewhat to the side, your breasts mashed together with the help of your arm, which he just now noticed, your position.

Face down, ass up.

His favorite.

You didn't seem to budge, even with him being a bull in a china shop. Fortunately, over the last two years you've grown accustomed to that as he did with your sleeping style.

He leaned forward, his hand falling dangerously close to your thighs as he pushed down between the small triangle shape between your legs. His knee followed, his shorts scrunched up at the knee as he placed it a few inches behind his thumb, adding more pressure to the center of the mattress, the plush surface keeping you stable bending to him as if on command.

You stirred, your hips dipped from side to side, trying to regain comfort, but instead you were greeted by the warm grasp of his free hand, his thumb sliding over the bowl of your ass, cupping it gently, his other fingers drumming over it, pressing into it a little firmer than last time, but not hard enough to jolt you awake.

Once he was steady he leaned forward, blanketing himself over you, burying his nose against the side of your head, letting out a silent sigh against you, his lips pressing against where he rested.

You rolled around, still chasing the fleeting comfort of drowsy ness, your eyes flickered open at the feeling of his heavy presence, your hips playfully arching towards his resting grasp, causing him to give another squeeze in response.

"You gone get up yet?" He asked, watching you recoil the sheets as a solid response.

He gave a gentle pat against your skin, hearing you grumble, you could feel a grin spreading across his face, "words," he teased.

You weren't even fully awake, but you can tell he just wanted to play with you. A squeeze here, a smack there, like you intended.

Unfortunately he doesn't mix business with pleasure, so long as he has 'clients' over you weren't getting any play.

Your voice is hoarse and thick as you shift off one side, making a minor adjustment to face him, lips parting to ask, "you close up shop yet?"

"Nah-" "then no," you responded, burying your face back into your arm.

You awaited a response along the lines of 'almost done,' or 'they can wait,' but dope isn't cheap and neither is Barry. Nothing. Nothing over the shuffling of feet, a solid smack, Rafe's fist meeting his palm as he stared at the scene before him.

Barry on top of you, your legs overlapping and more skin than necessary showing, mostly from Barry as he was covering you, and his hand placement, one one your ass which was housing a growing boner and the flushed look on Barry's face.

Barry wasn't shocked either, once he realized it was Rafe he leaned down on top of you, your head turning as he planted a kiss to your cheek, easing off of you.

He rolled his eyes, backing out, throwing his head back, feigning disgust as if he hadn't caught yall doing worse on multiple occasions.

Once he was up he spared you a second glance, his tongue flicking over his lower lip at the sight of you, disgruntled and bothered, followed by rustling sheets he then turned to Rafe, squinting his eyes at him.

He sucked in a harsh breath, urging the kid out of the room, following behind him, he lazily grabbed something off the shelf as he was passing through the hall, Rafe stepping onto the porch first turning to him, Barry leaned against the frame, muttering under his breath as he clutched the flask in his hand, letting it fall to his hand the other running over his eyes.

"Busy morning?" He asked, watching him take a whiff, nodding his head over the metal, pressing it to his lips. "You want business, you gotta make an appointment like everybody else," he interrupted, changing the topic.

While you were still in bed, groggy from your boyfriend feeling you up, you had managed a sitting position, shoulders slumped, and legs sway inches above the ground, your hand rubbed your eyes viciously, falling against your thigh with an audible slap.

Just as you stepped out of the room, decent to your standards you trudged through the hall into the foggy living room, magazines face down with coke residue next to them, you heard a grunt followed by a husky whistle.

You turned your head to see one of the newcomers coming out of the bathroom, in a plain white tee and his faded jeans flooding at his ankles. He sported a fresh cut, the gel hadn't even set yet as his hands slicked his hair further back, making his forehead bigger, eyes darkened and dilated as he approached, his eyebrows raising in expectation. You scoffed, giving him a dirty look.

He reciprocated, his tongue licking at his teeth as his heavy boots kicked open the seat to a foldable, his meaty hand scrunching up his pant leg as he took a seat, legs spread, one hand subtly patting his thigh, the other resting on the edge of the table, his fingers uncurling the cig from behind his ear.

It was only hot when Barry did it. The difference being he didn't have to try, this guy would call you over, but you would already be at Barry's side. When he would lean back against his seat, chin up, you'd sit on, sometimes straddling his lap. Your eyes would be on his or pressed against his shoulder with his arm slung over your shoulders or hanging off your hips. His lips, planting soft, wet kisses on you, especially that little spot just behind your ear, or the base of your shoulder. Bonus points for if he was busy, how all his features set in determination was a different kind of feeling.

You ate that shit up.

But not with this guy. He's no Barry.

Still you couldn't resist, calculated steps forward, you pulled up a chair, the floor creaking beneath you as you dragged it before him, turning it to face him, yet still you stand.

"See, now you're teasing," he muttered, the gears of his lighter flicking in his hand, the spark lapping at the swollen top, his chapped lips pressed to the end of it, taking a deep breath as his thumb pocketed the flame.

You didn't smile, instead you remained indifferent at this, your knuckles wrung against the head of the chair, the back of your hand providing cushion for your chest as you leaned against your knuckles, moving your breasts up and his eyes down.

Soon you spoke, maintaining eye contact, though your peripheral caught his hand squeezing the crotch of his pants. "Now, why," you paused leaning toward, pushing heavily against your hands, "would I do that?"

A chute of smoke hit your face as he sucked in a breath, his knee wobbled side to side and his other leg extended, "why? I'll tell you why?"

You tilted your head, wiggling your hand to free it up, resulting in the jiggle of your breasts, small, but noticeable. And you could see it now, his slick words rolling right off his tongue and into his pants. "I'm listening," you hummed, nodding to him.

His body shifted against the seat, seeing you lean further forward, your fingers drawing a slow line up the table, over to his side, you hand ever so smoothly grazed over his forearm, causing the twitch in his wrist to capture yours. "That's not nice," his voice deep and gravelly, the cigarette once again being brought to his lips.

Honestly, you weren't a fan of the aftershave, he looks ruggish, but he smells off brand, atleast for your liking, and how he wore his obviousness, like a badge of honor. Like his dated watch could compete with a gold chain.

Barry's gold chain.

Your fingers closed around the plastic wrapped box you had been reaching for, and you drew your arm away, now thumbing over the bold Marlboro print. "That's," you flipped the lid back, plucking one from the near empty casing, "not my problem," and you headed outside to the porch.

Barry leaned against his chair, one hand propped behind his head, the other resting in his lap as he watched Rafe do another line, flicking his nose with his thumb. He then looked at you, standing in the doorway watching.

You tilted your head at him, then leaning down to press the cigarette to Barry's lips, his eyebrows cinched together and his hand came to his lips, the index and middle holding it close to his mouth, "you up now?" He asked, his eyes flicking up to your face.

Another thing you loved about him, he was respectful. Even if it was unserious, his eyes would always be on yours, no matter if you were feet away or you inches. He did like to be all over you though, when you weren't talking.

" 'Course," you responded, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He shrugged, grabbing a lighter off the cluttered table, clearing the seat beside him for you to sit.

Rafe watched the interaction, scrunching his face up. You didn't usually sit around with Barry's clients, most despite an obvious addiction not knowing how to handle the chemicals they're inhaling, but Rafe was different.

Some rich local who had no business around here, but was way closer to Barry other than yourself, that's what made business fun, when he came around. Flashing his little tight shirts, pocketful of cash, and always got something to say. Makes you wonder why he spent most of his afternoons here anyways.

You sat down beside Barry, rather than kicking your feet up on the coffee table you swung your legs over his, resting your thighs right over his lap, earning another eye roll from Rafe.

You noticed, throwing your arm over the end of the couch, "problem, Rafe?" In which Barry looked up at you and him. "Keep all the PDA shit inside, I've seen enough already," he grumbled, running his hand over his face.

"Yeah? try knocking next time, country club," Barry muttered, reaching for a band. "You don't have a door," he sassed, watching Barry count the money.

True, but all of those unwanted encounters were avoidable. "Then stand your ass on the porch til I come out," you both know that wouldn't have happened if he didn't interrupt when he did.

Rafe rolled his eyes, again. He knew better than that, and he's lucky. Most would've gotten kicked out for interrupting, even charged extra if they were insistent on watching, not that it would happen, but money was good.

You, however, wanted to spite Rafe.

It wouldn't do much, but you drew your leg back, you knee solidly supporting one hand now, the other following suit, but you made sure to add pressure across Barry's growing erection. His hips wiggled against the seat, trying to ignore the sensation, but you repeated this motion a couple of times, hearing the flutter of the cash in his hand stop as he pulled the next bill, his eyes lazily scanning over it, but more focused on what you're doing to him.

And that little Cheshire grin wasn't helping.

Rafe watched, his head falling to his shoulder, an unimpressed expression on his face as he crossed his arms, watching you too.

And it escalated from there, your leg now hooking beneath his, you steadied yourself against his shoulders, pulling yourself into his lap fully. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling his muscled legs through his shorts, moving your hips forward and back again.

He began recounting, now holding the money behind your back as you slowly rocked your hips against his, your head now fell back, lips parting as you looked to Rafe, watching his nose upturn and lips curl into a pout. You let a noise that resembled a whimper and Rafe sprang up, keeping an eye on you two. It wasn't even genuine, it was just to piss him off, and it did as he hastily reached in his back pocket, fumbling with his wallet he pulled out a couple crumpled bills, throwing them into the table.

Barry still seemed in his own world, now bringing his arm around the side of your neck, he brought the money closer to count, Rafe drumming against his leg, waiting to be dismissed. You slipped the half smoked stick from his lips, ashing it out against the couch cushion, flicking the butt somewhere.

"Seriously, man, I don't know how you do this," he commented, watching Barry press a kiss against your temple. "Easy, it's my lady," and that response earned him a sloppy kiss on the lips, partly from him trying to regain focus and you snatching his attention back.

With a wave, Rafe was off to his bike, sparing you a glance before jamming his helmet on.

Your tongue had come out, since Barry was busy, you decided to kiss his cheeks, down, nibbling on his jaw, and especially trailing it back up with more kisses. While you still had an audience, you unwrapped your hands from around his back, bringing them to his face, his eyes following your movements as you squished his cheeks, tongue out, pressing against his warm skin, lapping at the curve of his face, to a patch way off to the side that had been reddened by the sun, sheen with sweat the tip of your tongue moved from his jaw to his temple, you lips closing to another peck.

You could hear Rafe speed off in the distance, turning your head to see him flipping you off as you did so, you chuckled, turning back to Barry.

His face may not have given anything away, but his hardness pressing against you definitely did. And soon after he rolled everything up, he tossed it into the seat cushion to reorganize for later instead his strong hands scooping you up, off his lap, his hand squeezed your ass as he carried you inside.

The guy from earlier watching in the corner, you had seen, pulling away briefly to stare, Barry too had noticed, nodding his head towards the door, indicating he should leave. Once he did, stumble out, beer in hand. Barry talked about charging him later, but for how he was focused on your hands slipping beneath his shirt, running over his chest, and fluttering down his back, the shirt riding up as you did so.

Word count: 1402

A/n; I'm proud of this (hope I did this properly) tiny last minute editing.

Warnings; bad day, angst with a happy ending, Rafe being boyfriend material pet name (pretty girl) hurt x comfort

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Rafe Cameron, prideful, persistent, and above all punctual.

Admirable, aggravating.

When Rafe texted you and said he was coming by, you knew that meant 10 minutes max, before he would be knocking on your door.

You were paniced, reasonably so. You had just stepped out of what was supposed to be a relaxing shower, your skin pricked with goosebumps as the cold air hit your exposed skin.

10 minutes, and here you were debating if you wanted to respond or not, but anything was better than staying at that house any longer.

Love would not be enough restraint for you if you had to deal with another one of your family's feuds.

It soon hit you that time was ticking, your hands tossing your phone into the pile of pajamas you were in earlier as you quickly got to work dying yourself off.

As soon as he approached the porch you appeared in the doorway, a soft smile tugged at his lips seeing you standing there.

Hips leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, and your beautiful face staring expectantly into the distance.

Even still he walked up the creaky steps, hands open to relieve you, but when you remained planted, eyesight shifting towards his polo, the closed collar underlining his broad chest, and muscles caught your gaze.

He countered the hug within distance, slugging an arm around your shoulder, he leaned down, pressing his cold lips against your heated skin, causing your cheeks to bubble, lips pursing in a supressed smile. "Missed me didn't you?" He cooed, the keychain circling his index jiggled, the tip of his finger teasing the underside of your jaw.

You stiffened at the action, taking the first step forward, muttering a quiet 'sure'.

"Ahha," he chuckled dryly, following your lead.

Even if you didn't share the enthusiasm he was happy to see you.

You approached the car, Rafe cutting you off mid step to pull back the handle, the dark paint job facing you now as you scoffed playfully circling the door.

"After you milady," You rolled your eyes at his antics, kicking one foot into the car, the other followed by your chin pressing sharply into your chest as you ducked the roof of the car, settling side.

You wiggled in your seat, immediately reaching for the seatbelt, pulling it smoothly across your chest.

You let out a breath you were holding. Had it got stuck or you couldn't adjust it just right and you had to wrestle it, you'd scrap the whole car. Even if it wasn't yours, you were especially fragile right now.

Rafe got in the driver’s side, the engine roared to life at the twist of his hand, a triumphant grin crossed his face, his nose scrunching as he did so, looking at you excitedly.

Would it be rude to ask why he was so...energetic...today?

The answer?

He saw it.

Through his tinted shades currently sitting in his cupholder.

The attitude in your body language, the shift of weight from one leg to the other, the strain in your formerly guarded form, the unhappiness in your features, and especially the wrinkles siding beside the corner of your eyes. They weren't from smiles, but from heavy glaring.

And smiles would be evident in the way your cheeks pigmented a visible tone after long periods of laughter, and how puffy the corners of your mouth got.

It didn't at all sound attractive when he brought it up to you, but he explained his admiration for your joyous nature, and how when you smiled you smiled big.

And despite your objection in his words, your lips wavered, peeling back into the corners of your face, showing him just what he thought to be true.

"Did you..." You paused, his attention immediately turning on you. "Have you been hanging around Barry again?" Was the only respectful way you could ask.

He didn't take offense, instead braced his hands against the steering wheel, "No," he drew out, putting the car in reverse.

You nodded, awkwardly placing your hands in your lap.

At first being home free helped. Something about the drive around, loud music, and sea salt in the air had made you forget the knot swelling inside various places.

Just as progress was made a flip switched.

It was the song playing on the radio. Something you didn't care to remember because you felt it.

Those sick, unwell feelings form in the pit of your stomach at the words, and now more than ever a raw intensity pulling within you drawing you back to a place of anger.

A place of hurt.

Rafe noticed at first, it was subtle. The head nodding, rolling your eyes as he turned the volume up. He paid attention.

He knew these.

He knew you.

Then a couple miles down, you were singing along, looking as you did do, but he could feel you loosening up.

But just as fast as it appeared it stopped.

He turned the music down, hoping you would continue, but you didn't.

Back to silent nodding and now something else. Your eyes. They were blinking... rapidly.

Now he knew something was up. Something heavy.

Little did he know the events of the morning lingered a dense electric gray over your head, and rain would soon pour from your clouded irises.

"Did something happen? You're all sad and,"

"And shit," you responded, tilting your head back.

"Yeah... all sad and...shit," as you had not so eloquently put it.

"It's nothing," by now it was everything.

"That doesn't sound right," he countered, his foot applied pressure towards the break, the wind breaking acceleration had decreased to the speed limit at best.

And you held back a couple of tears, but that didn't stop strays, warm against your skin. You could feel a burning in the top of your nose, and a climbing temperature around your ears indicating you were about to cry.

"Do you want to talk about it? I can listen," he offered.

You simply sniffled, you palmed up, roughly pushing against your skin, wiping tears. "Do you even know where we're going? We've passed that same park like three times," you said referring to the open field with 101 benches placed too close together.

Sometimes your deflection could be ignoring his question, answering vaguely, or in this case, insulting his navagation skills.

"No, no," he played along, "That's the country club, it's got an expansion, pretty much every road has a view of it."

That actually makes sense now.

Still.

He continued to examine you, your body language.

It was just as tense as before, if not more.

Your little breakdown had only gone on for a quick minute and then you were back to being stone.

If only he could turn you into statue.

Unlike your earlier suggestion before you the dizzy world had slowed and vision returned.

Not before the sight of a concerned smile, his hand parked over the steering wheel, the other resting on the armrest, his torso twisted to meet you.

This time he didn't try to convince you, he let his sad, pretty eyes manipulate you into a sharing state.

"It's just not my day today," you confessed, a little bob in your head confirming that.

"Well, we can change that," his ringed fingers found there ways rubbing against your salted skin swiping tears.

He leaned forward, his lips pressing to your cheekbone, lingering over your skin, the edge of his nose rubbing up the bridge of yours, traveling kisses planted on you in various spots.

He made it to your hair, letting out a hum, tilting his head against yours, making himself level with you, you looked up through your eyelashes to find his comforting gaze on you already, promising better.

Amist the intimate gesture he leaned into it, his elbow honking against the wheel, a bold whistle vibrated through the car, making you jump.

You felt his long lashes tickle your cheek, an embarrassed sigh left him, his forehead still pressed against your face.

And while he thought the accidental honking had ruined the slow, intimate vibe, it tickled you.

His reaction of resignation and reserveness had made it better, and you couldn't hide the smile on your face, the peaks of your teeth peering through and a hearty laugh escaping you.

Rafe carefully kissed your jaw once more, slipping back into his seat, both hands holding the seatbelt at the chest, as he was still fixated on you.

You were smiling.

Rafe made a face, to which he followed up with "there she is," and the mellowness of his tone was enough to make you melt.

"There's my pretty girl."

(Austin by Dasha) applied to reader x Rafe

Why do I see it?

(Coming soon)