thorough (fckboy!Joaquin Torres x f!Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› When Joaquín texts, you know what he wants. And you also know that despite your better judgement and all of the other things you shouldbe doing, you’re going to give it to him.

PAIRING ››››› Fuckboy!Joaquín Torres x Female!Reader (written in 3rd person so you can pretend it’s an OC like I do) Read the OC version here.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,928

WARNINGS ››››› Joaquín’s pretty out of character because my angel would never.oh yeah, and smut

A/N ››››› This idea has taken over the entirety of my thoughts. It has consumed all of my free time, so I figured I should try to wrangle some of the vibes and vague ideas into an actual story. So, here is this little imagine which is v smut heavy and v plot light. But,I am thinking of turning this into a fake dating/redemption fic, so lemme know what you think! Divider from firefly-graphics (not tagging because this is a work of smut).

A single notification flashed across her screen. 

U up?

Y/N reached over, clicking the screen dark. She was up. But not for him. Instead, she turned back to her textbook and the packets of printed out notes strewn across the desk in front of her. The only men who would be getting her attention tonight were the esteemed scholars Sedra and Smith. And maybe Dr. Barnaby if she got around to reading her lecture notes over. He would have to find someone else. And there would be someone else. There was always someone else for him. She just had to hold out long enough for him to move on and go find them.

Her screen lit up again. 

Or has circuits put u to sleep?

This time she rolled her eyes as she dismissed the notification, a small smile playing at her lips despite herself. Of course he knew exactly what she was doing. Even if he never acknowledged her, he still sat in the same lecture hall as her and dealt with the same lectures and exams. 

Y/N returned back to the textbook example problem, fingers sliding under her glasses to rub at her eyes. She withdrew her hands, fixing her glasses before picking up her pen once more. She needed to stay focused. This test was going to be thirty percent of her grade. If she wanted to pass, she needed to learn how to apply input resistance to both Example 6.11 and her own life.

Oh god. She was broken.

Shaking off the thought of her mental deterioration, Y/N pressed her pencil to her notebook paper, copying down the problem in front of her. Just one more section and a skim through of her lecture notes after this. If she powered through, she could probably finish before three and get a solid five and a half hours of sleep before the exam. Yet, as Y/N worked her way through the problem, her eyes continued to slip over to her phone and the dark glass screen that reflected her desk light back up at her. 

Circuits.

Not dick. 

Circuits. 

Not–

Her phone lit up again.

It didn’t kill u did it???  

She snorted a laugh through her nose as she picked up her phone, thumb swiping to unlock it. As she began to type out a reply, the white auto suggestion box popped up. 

Not today Satan.

She exed out of her roommate’s attempt at a safeguard, as if on autopilot.

Not yet but I am slowly dying.

The three dots in response were instantaneous. 

Sounds like you need to take a break.

The auto suggestion box popped up once more as she typed, this suggestion an indictment of both her idiocy and predictability. She clicked on it.

Come over.

Very little studying was accomplished in the time between Y/N sending her text off and receiving the text that he’d arrived. The promise of a break seemed too much for her brain to withstand, and she’d only managed to work out an answer for the RIN before she finally gave in and took off her glasses. After that, she’d only had time to shove her dirty clothes in the closet and straighten her sheets up from where they hung  off the bed before her phone buzzed.

Y/N put her phone back down, slipping out of her chair and padding across the still apartment towards the door. Pulling it open revealed Joaquín dressed in a maroon ASU hoodie and dark grey sweatpants. His hair was ruffled, and his own glasses were on. 

 Evidently he’d been studying for Circuits too. 

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a soft smile—the same one that he’d given her last fall when they met eyes across the crowded frat. She had known even then exactlywhat she’d be getting herself into if she smiled back. But there was something about the genuine delight in his smile–the fact that he looked almost awed–that had her lips curving into a smile almost on their own accord. Much like now. 

“Hey,” he whispered. 

Y/N leaned against the partially open door “Hey." 

"Is it cool that I parked in the lot?” he asked with raised eyebrows, and she nodded. 

“Yeah, they don’t usually check for tags at 3 am.”

Joaquín breathed out a laugh, hanging his head and shaking it as his own stupidity as Y/N smiled at him. “Yeah, I probably should have guessed that.” He looked back up at her with a small smirk, and it was Y/Ns turn to shake her own head before motioning with it that he should come in. He obliged, stepping into the small dark apartment and waiting for her to lock up behind him. 

He probably could have made his way back to her room without her, but instead he remained, eyes roaming over the dark living room and kitchenette as if it were his first time there and he was taking it all in. She took this as an act of kindness–a preservation of the little dignity she had left when it came to Joaquín Torres.

So, Y/N quietly led the way back to her room, ushering him in and closing the door as softly as possible behind them to avoid waking her roommate. 

When she turned back to him, she found Joaquín bent over her notes, curls falling into his face. He looked intently at what she had written, his eyes following along each line of her solution before he shook his head. “That problem’s been kicking my ass for the last hour,” he said, tilting his head to look up at her. “Think you could walk me through it tomorrow?" 

The sheepish grin he gave her made her stomach flip, and she really should have kicked herself for it. Because there was no way he didn’t know exactly what he was doing when he looked at her like that. And he knew that she knew what he was doing whenever he flashed his dimples too. And yet she still couldn’t find it in herself to tell him to go to hell.

"Depends how much sleep I get,” she said with a shrug, attempting to fix her face into something more smirklike than smiley and feeling like an utter failure at it.

His eyes gleamed mischievously as he straightened up and turned to face her. “How much sleep is enough?" 

She shrugged as she walked past him and over to the foot of her bed, setting herself down to sit on the edge and leaning back on her hands. "I don’t know, three hours? Four?" 

"What if it’s two and a half, but I buy you coffee,” he bargained, leaning back against her pushed-in chair with his arms crossed across his chest. 

“It’d need to be really good coffee." 

"Starbucks counts as really good coffee, right?" 

She scoffed, and Joaquín laughed softly, his head tipping back as the amusement lit his face up. When he faced her again, it was with an expression of warm amusement. "What if it’s Starbucks, but I make sure you thoroughlyenjoy all of the time you’re not sleeping tonight?” he asked, eyebrows raising up over his glasses as he took a step towards her. 

A tingle shot through Y/N as she followed his slow, purposeful movements towards her, and she fought the urge to press her legs together. “I guess that would depend on how thorough is ‘thoroughly’.” Somehow her voice managed to keep its teasing playfulness even as the look in Joaquín’s eyes became more focused, more intense, more hungry. 

He stopped in front of her, close enough that the fabric of his sweatpants brushed against her bare knees and she had to tilt her head up just to see his face. She raised an eyebrow at him, and while she had intended for it to be questioning–a prompt for an answer–she couldn’t keep the smirk from playing at the corners of her lips, turning the look into almost a challenge.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he lifted a hand, brushing her hair back behind her ear, his fingers trailing down her neck and along her shoulders until they reached the strap of her cropped cami. His pointer finger hooked under the strap and he pulled her towards him by the thin piece of silk, until her head was tipped all the way back just to see his face.

Joaquín leaned towards her, his breath warm and promising more than his words could ever deliver on. “Thorough,”he murmured, letting the word kiss across her skin, setting her nerves alight with anticipation before he closed the space and kissed her himself.

It was easy to get drunk off of Joaquín’s kisses. She wondered if this was simply a paired stimuli given the nature of their first encounters. If the dizzying effects his kisses had on her was her body remembering the weightlessness of too much Jungle Juice and a cute boy’s attention. If the way she seemed to melt into him was a conditioned response from him pulling her close to him so easily even when her limbs felt heavy from Jell-O Shots. 

But maybe it wasn’t classical conditioning or muscle memory. Maybe it was just the natural biological response to the way his hand took hold of her waist, squeezing at the bare skin there as he deepened the kiss and stepped forward, between her legs. Maybe it was just a natural reaction to feel lightheaded when an attractive boy slid his hand up under your crop top and moved his lips along your collarbone with each kiss like a whispered promise.

Her head lolled to the side, allowing him more room to work, and he took advantage of the newly exposed stretch of skin, placing hot, open mouthed kisses there. Y/N sank her teeth into her lip, biting down into it to keep herself from making any of the embarrassing sounds threatening to spill from her just from a bit of kissing. It was a pointless measure though, for as if inspired by her action, Joaquín’s teeth caught at the tender skin on her neck and pulled it into his mouth, sucking harshly. Her fingers curled into his shoulders, dragging him closer to her as he moved up her neck, picking a new spot to nip. A gasping noise escaped her as his tongue swiped over the spot, sounding far too much like a whimper for her own comfort. 

Joaquín dragged his lips further up her neck to just under her ear. “Fuck you make the most beautiful sounds,” he praised, pressing a kiss below her ear. “Drives me crazy."  He kissed her again before taking a hold of her ear with his teeth. 

Another noise, much like the first escaped her, and her fingers reached up into the hair at the nape of his neck, threading through the strands and then tugging him backwards and away from her so she could see his face. His glasses had slid down a bit on his nose, and his pupils were blown wide and dark, and she knew, she knew, that whatever happened next, it would be thorough enough.

"Did you come here to compliment me or to fuck me?" 

He grinned. ”Por qué no los dos?“ 

She leaned closer so that her lips almost brushed his as she demanded, ”Cógeme.“ 

Joaquín practically tore his sweatshirt and shirt from his body, his glasses catching in the material and flying off somewhere with the clothes to a corner of her room. Her own arms were crossed across her middle to pull off her top, but she didn’t get a chance before his hands wrapped under her knees and yanked her forward so her back fell onto the bed.  He knelt before her, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her pajama shorts and dragging them down her legs. 

His eyes snapped to hers as he pulled the silky fabric free of her legs. "Impatient, aren’t you?" 

Y/N reached down, flicking the side of his head. "It’s how I sleep." 

"Mhmm,” he hummed, disbelievingly as his eyes focused  back to her parted legs and her center that was completely bare to him, not a scrap of lace or satin or cotton or anything to shield it from his hungry gaze. He lifted her leg over his shoulder, pausing to press a kiss to the inside of her knee and then trailing a line of kisses and nips up to the top of her inner thigh. Y/N squirmed, and he chuckled, moving his other hand to her hip to hold her in place. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part." 

"I’m sensitive,” Y/N breathed out,

“I know,” Joaquín grinned, leaning forward to lick a large stripe through her folds, sending her arching off the bed with a gasping moan. “Qué buena estás." 

And then he dove back in. 

There were a lot of reasons why allowing Joaquín into her bed at three in the morning was a bad idea. 

For one thing, she really should have used the time to study for the test that would make up a solid third of her grade in a class that took many people two tries to pass. There was also the inevitable exhaustion that would probably affect her performance on that test. 

Then there was the fact that if they woke up her roommate, she would have to deal with side eyed glances, reproving sighs, and little comments for at least a week. Not to mention the fact that her roommate would probably tell the rest of their friends, and then she’d be getting it from all angles. 

But the biggest reason this was a bad idea, the reason with the most inevitable consequences, was the fact that he’d leave behind an ache that chased her throughout her morning, reminding her of how stupidshe was for doing this. 

But as she gripped onto Joaquín’s head like her life depended on it, hips chasing a release on his tongue, it was difficult to really think about any of that. It was difficult to think at all. All she could manage were small bits of breathy praise spurring him on.

"Fuck. Fuck yes, right–ah!” She threw her head back into the bed as he sucked harder around her clit. One hand freed itself from his curls,  clawing at the sheets to give herself more purchase as words left her in favor of high pitched, gasping noises that sounded vaguely like his name. And then, finally,  she could hardly get out any sound as a wave of pleasure coursed through her causing her whole body to go taut as Joaquín replaced  his tongue with his fingers to help her ride out the high.

“I’ve got you. I got you,” he reassured, coming back up her body to place kisses along her jaw as she slowly came down, chest heaving. Y/N pulled in deep breath as his lips continued to rove  around her chest and collarbone, neck and face, always whispering bits of praise before gracing her skin with a kiss. One hand slid across her bare stomach, taking hold of her waist as he gave one last kiss before looking up into her face. 

“And?” he asked with a small smirk.

“And?” she repeated in question, the word coming out more as an exhale.

“How am I doing so far? Thorough enough?” he asked, his hand inching up under her top to take hold of a bress. The pad of his thumb ran over the nipple there, and for a moment, Y/N’s mind went hazy. “Or is there something I’m forgetting to pay attention to?”

“I think you already know.” Despite the words themselves, her voice came out needy and airy, and it elicited a low chuckle from Joaquín whose hand retreated back to the edge of her top, teasing her with the promise of taking it off. 

“I want you to tell me." 

"Stop teasing me, and put that mouth to better use,” Y/N snapped, and he grinned this time. 

“Close enough,” he said, pulling her top up and over her head, flinging it away from them.

His mouth was truly a gift from God, but his hands, and the way they massaged her breast, twisted her nipple, worked her in ways that were positively sinful,they could only have been given that skill through a deal with the devil. So, she lay there, fingernails scratching at his shoulder blades as he worshiped her chest, switching between the breasts and from mouth to hands in ways that made her feel holy. Holy but aching. 

“Joaquín,” she mumbled, hand sliding from his shoulder to his bicep, pressing her away from him. He lifted himself from her skin, eyes meeting hers. “Flip over,” she commanded. His face lit up, and he complied so quickly and eagerly that Y/N laughed. 

Joaquín tucked his hands under his head, watching intently as Y/N moved to straddle him. “We can’t be too loud,” she whispered, placing a finger against his lips. “Ok?" 

"Got it,” he said, biting her finger playfully. She withdrew her finger from between his lips, running her hands down his muscled chest. It was almost criminal, the fact that he always wore loose fitting t-shirts instead of something that showed off the hard work ROTC had him put into his body.

She leaned down, allowing her tongue to explore the planes of his chest, dipping low to swirl around his belly button and lower to the center of his v line. Joaquín groaned, and Y/N hooked her fingers in the waistline of his boxers, dragging both the underwear and sweatpants down his legs and off his body. When she looked up at him, she found Joaquín’s gaze fixated on her. There was a quiet desperation to his look, not as needy as she was sure her own faces were, but almost like he was a second away from an answer, and she was the only one who could help him get it. 

Y/N crawled back up his body, taking his cock in her hand and teasing it with long, slow strokes. Under her, Joaquín’s eyes had closed, a grunt passing through his lips as he managed to lift a hand to take hold of her hip. Her thumb passed over the head, spreading the precum along his hardened length, her hand twisting around him before she dipped down and kissed the head of his cock. His hips jerked up from the bed, as if chasing her as she pulled away. Joaquín opened his eyes, casting her a look of confused desperation. 

“I’m not the one who made promises,” she said with a tilt of her head and a smirk. He let out a gasping laugh, pinching her hip, and she rolled over him leaving the boy groaning underneath her. 

“Hold on,” she said, pressing a hand to his chest and leaning up over him to reach into her side table. She fumbled around, fingers slipping over the contents of her drawer until at last the smooth feeling of the condom packet greeted her fingertips. She snatched it up, not even bothering to shove the drawer closed as she withdrew to her position over Joaquín’s hips, tearing open the package with her teeth. 

She probably could have been more sensual about it–moved a bit slower with teasing touches and seductive glances–but instead she tossed the empty wrapper and immediately went about rolling the condom over Joaquín’s waiting cock. Because while she probably could have withstood a little bit more anticipation, a little bit more build up until this moment why should she have to when she could have him now? 

Y/N raised herself a little higher, Joaquín’s hands coming to her hips and slowly guiding her down onto his waiting cock. He hissed as she lowered herself even further until he filled her completely. Y/N paused, hands flat against Joaquín’s chest to allow herself a moment to adjust to his size. “You good?” Joaquín asked, gently squeezing her side, and she nodded. 

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed. “Yeah, I’m ready." 

There was a reason she always seemed to cave whenever Joaquín texted her. A reason she never told him to go fuck himself or any of the other things her roommate and friends suggested she say. A reason she snuck him in and out of her bedroom late at night or times when most  people were at class.

And it wasn’t because she was stupid enough to have feelings for him again.

It was because he knew exactly what to do to make her body feel electric. It didn’t matter if he was letting her ride him slow, fucking her fast from behind, or clutching her close to him as he stroked hard and deep–he knew exactly what her body craved and he gave it to her. He gave it to her with murmured bits of Spanish and breathless cursing and moans that made her chest constrict. He gave it to her with fingers that circled her clit and twisted her nipples and pulled her hair at all the right times. He gave it to her with hot, hard, and fierce kisses.

And as much as he gave, it was never enough. 

Even after her second orgasm left her feeling close to overstimulated and boneless, she still clutched at him. While she hardly had enough energy to raise her hips to meet his thrust, she locked her legs around him and pulled him closer as he buried his face in her shoulder. She stayed with him as his hips stuttered and strokes got sloppy and it became clear that he was going to come. 

Admittedly, Joaquín’s orgasm face was rather dumb, ridiculous even, with his mouth hanging open and only a grunting sound coming out. But she kept her eyes trained on his face, not to remind her that this god in bed was a mere mortal who made stupid faces too, but because after he finished, when his face relaxed, he was nothing short of angelic. The corners of his mouth turned up just barely into a light smile and his eyes fluttered open and looked at her like she really was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

Joaquín placed a kiss on her shoulder as he helped to lower her legs back down to the bed, finally withdrawing from her to dispose of the condom in the trash by her bedside. It was all Y/N could do to catch her breath, her body hot and sweaty from the activity. Yet as Joaquín climbed back into the bed, she allowed him to pull her in close to him, arms wrapping around her, and chin resting on her shoulder. Because this was part of the deal with Joaquín and something that had almost made her doubt her initial assessment of him back when his body was brand new and she was still discovering all of the things it could do—after sex, he always stayed. Not necessarily the night, but long enough to hold and cuddle her and talk about things that didn’t matter. 

"Better than studying?” he asked, and she let out a snort and nodded. 

“Yeah." 

"Good enough for Starbucks?” he asked, tilting his head to try to look at her face, and this time she gave a full laugh. 

“I’ll meet you there at seven." 

heatwave.

an:thank you to those who suggested characters for this hc. I typed this on my phone, so excuse the lack of editing. reply below which one is your favorite

requested characters (in no particular order): angel reyes, jax teller, joaquin torres, johnny tuturro, josh cody, rio

rating: (except for J. Cody)

sum:there’s a heatwave sweeping the nation. they’re encouraging everyone to have fun, but to stay cool.

“If you think about it, you’re more likely to die in a car crash than you are to be attacked by a shark.”

Your widened eyes lifts from the water gently rocking beneath you. The sight prompts Johnny to continue.

“I’m serious—“

“Andnot helping, Johnny!”

The uneasy look on your face should erase the smile on Johnny’s face, but it only doubles it in size. The five months you’ve lived in Graceland he’s never seen you scared before. Not even with a gun pointed at you.

“I go out and surf all the time—“

“Exactly,”you continue as he begins to guide your board further into the water. “AndI tell you you’re crazy each time.”

“And,” he chuckles. “I come back alive each time.”

Johnny’s words may be truthful, but they do little to ease your anxiety.

As your board drifts further from shore, you silently curse yourself for agreeing to this. After a long day at work, you wanted nothing more than to go to sleep early. Johnny had come into your room thirty minutes after your arrival, the bright smile on his face forcing you to roll over.

“Whatever it is,” you mumbled. “I’m not going to be apart of it.”

“You don’t even know what it is,” Johnny crossed the room before collapsing on your bed. The added weight caused you to bounce lightly against the mattress.

“With you, it’s always trouble.”

“I was gonna ask you to come watch the sunset with me,” he’d smiled, his chin resting against your shoulder. “When was the last time we got to hang out? Just us two?”

The question was enough to make you agree to drag yourself out of the bed you had just laid in, so that you could spend time alone with your best friend.

When he invited you to watch the sunset, you thought Johnny had meant from the shore. You go with Johnny to the beach a lot, you even go in the water, but you’ve never ventured this far out.

You are now wide awake and seated on Johnny’s paddle board. He stands behind you, guiding the board. He may have teased you before, but Johnny does not mention that you sit as close to him as possible.

“Say what you want about sharks, Johnny,” you say, eyes returning to the water beneath you. “But, they’re far less likely to attack us if we’re closer to shore.”

“Let a shark try and roll up on this paddle board—“

“What are you going to do?” Your eyes roll, a tiny smile manages to outweigh your nerves as Johnny’s chuckle fills the air. “Fight it?

“I could punch it in the nose—“

“I doubt that works.”

“I read it online—“

“So it has to be true?” You tip your head back to see Johnny’s head shaking. The smile on his lips stretches as he meets your gaze. “Besides, I love you, JT. But my faith in you deterring a Great White with a punch is extremely low.”

“Man, whatever.” Johnny kisses his teeth, his eyes rolling as you release a giggle. “If you fall off don’t call me out there to punch a shark, and save you.” He glances down at you, his smile growing at the look of skepticism he finds. “Im serious, I’ll paddle my ass back to shore without you.”

“Like you’d leave me out here. I’m the only person who laughs at your jokes.”

“Look, y/n, I love you but you need to get your shit together.”

Letty’s words widen your eyes, the look of confusion on your face causing her eyes to roll.

“Me? What are you talking about?”

You are met with a temporary silence as Letty cautiously peeks around the edge of the building. Once she is certain the coast is clear, she turns back to you. Shifting the strap of her water gun, she allows the nearly empty weapon to hang by her side.

Letty steps forward, her hands clamping down on your shoulders. Her voice is just above a whisper as her dark brown eyes meet your gaze.

“You need to stop pulling your shots.”

“I am not pulling my shots.”

Letty’s eyes roll for the second time today. “I know we’re playing against your husband, but I am trying to win this game.”

“So am I–”

“Good, so that settles it, next time you see Angel empty the clip.”

She gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before disappearing around the corner.

It is Saturday afternoon and you’re currently crouched alongside the back of the clubhouse. The red bandana tied around your left upper arm represents your team’s color. Despite having discarded your t-shirt, leaving you in just your shorts and bikini top, you are sweating buckets.

The game has been going on for nearly twenty minutes. The rules are simple: capture the flag. The team captain has the flag, or bandana, tied around their arm. Once they are shot, the shooter can retrieve the flag. Game over.

You and Letty are the only people on your team not drenched from head to toe. Your other teammates, Ez and Neron, are seated at the front tapped out.

Letty managed to take out Gilly, and you managed to take out her dad. Angel and your five-year-old son are the final teammates on the opposing team.

As you carefully make your way through the parked cars of the lot, finger hovering above the trigger, you realize Letty is right. You might have let Angel getaway, once. When you’d initially snuck up on Angel, your goal was to shoot him—you just needed to get closer. Angel was so focused on scanning the parking lot that he didn’t hear your footsteps as you’d snuck upon him. You would have shot him if your foot hadn’t bumped into a poorly discarded toolbox, the sound giving Angel enough of a heads up to seek cover.

You come to a halt as the sound of shuffling feet breaks your concentration. Spinning on your heels, you pause as you find your son, Danny, standing a few feet away. Your shoulders relax as you lower your gun.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you sigh, wiping your hand against your forehead. “Where’s daddy?”

By the time Danny makes his way back to his father’s hiding spot, a drenched Letty has joined Ez and Neron at the front of the clubhouse.

“Did you find your mom?” Angel asks, watching as your son shakes his head. Peeking over the hood of the car, Angel allows his eyes to scan the lot. “Alright, stay here, I’m gonna go find her.”

Angel only manages to get two steps past the security of the car when he’s blasted by a cool stream of water. Your finger clamps down on the trigger, your son’s giggles drowning out Angel’s screams as tries to avoid the water blasting his chest and face. Trying to avoid crashing into your son and running back into the car, he has nowhere to go. Reaching forward, he groans as you narrowly escape his grip.

You wait until you’ve emptied the remnants of your gun before allowing him to catch your waist. “You owe me a flag.”

A dripping Angel is a mess of breathless laughs as he wipes the water from his eyes. “I can’t believe you turned my son against me!”

“That’s all you got, Wilson?” Joaquín’s laughter drifts across the crowded street. The sound attracting more passing guests. “I thought you’d have better aim than this!”

Seated beneath the blazing sun, Joaquín Torres watches as Sam shakes his head. The grin on the young man’s face tightens Sam’s grip around the orange ball he holds.

Joaquín’s hands rub together in anticipation, his dark brown eyes challenging his friend to end his winning streak. In the last hour, since he’s taken over at the dunk tank, Joaquín has yet to be dunked. The determination between Sam’s eyes might stem from the fact that Joaquin dunked him–twice–on the morning shift.

Bright eyes and the ability to talk to anyone have allowed Joaquin to throw off the concentration of each person that has stepped forward to try. Even Sam.

Sam releases a groan as the orange ball slaps the yellow tarp beside the target, and Joaquín’s cocky smile remains intact.

“Whewww,”Joaquín whistles. “You want anotherround, Wilson? It’s $5.”

“I could just knock your ass off for free,” Sam chuckles as he gathers the balls surrounding the dunk tank. “What’s stopping me from hitting the target now?”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Sam,“ Joaquin winks. He motions towards the audience. "Donations are going to the kids.”

“Don’t worry, Sammy. I’ll get him for you.”

You wouldn’t have believed it possible, but the smile on Joaquín’s face doubles in size as he watches you catch the ball Sam tosses your way.

“Uh-oh, Torres,” Sam teases, watching as you step up to the yellow tape sticking to the pavement. “Sure you don’t wanna get down, let someone else get dunked?”

"You know me,” Joaquin smiles, watching as you study the target. “I’m not one to back down from a challenge.”

“Speaking of challenges.” Sam pauses as the power behind your first throw echoes silencing the conversations of those standing by to watch. Hitting the outer edge of the black circle, the orange ball dropped to the ground before rolling back towards you. Sam’s smile stretches as he briefly glances in your direction. “How about we make things interesting?”

“Interesting?” Joaquin’s eyes leave Sam’s long enough to watch you bend down to retrieve another ball. “What you got in mind?”

“If Y/N here knocks that cocky smile off your face, you finally gotta ask her on that date.”

“Date?”

The loud‘thwack’ that follows sends ripples across the bright yellow tarp. The edge of the ball connects with the black circle, bouncing off the side of the metal target. The board beneath Joaquin trembles, a sign of relief in response to narrowly missing that close call.

“Yeah,”Sam smiles as he passes you your third and final ball. “Youknowthat date I’ve been telling you to take her on so I can stop hearing how–”

“A date’s fine,” Joaquin speaks loudly drowning out the remainder of Sam’s sentence.

His narrowed eyes burn a hole into a grinning Sam. The sight seeming foreign to anyone who has worked with Joaquin. The smile that spreads across his lips as he allows his gaze to return to you is the one you have associated with Joaquin for the last month.

It is a smile that comes the instance you acknowledge his presence. Whether it be a simple “morning, Torres,” as you pass. Or the moments he catches himself ramblingly excitedly about the mission, only to find you watching him an amused smile on your lips. Or the sound of your laugh as you shake your head, trying not to cave to one of his corny jokes. It is the smile that had the entire unit convince Joaquin was falling hard for the analyst Sam brought in to assist on the mission.

“Hate to crush your dreams of a candlelight dinner, sweetheart, but no one’s dunked me–”

Laughter drowns out the splash of water as the board shifts releasing Joaquín into the ice-cold tank. Even beneath the freezing surface, Joaquin can hear Sam’s laughter above all the rest. When he finishes wiping the water from his eyes, Joaquin finds you standing alongside the tank.

“How’s the water?” The smile on your lips grows as Joaquin pushes his damp hair back from his forehead.

“Not bad,” he chuckles. His playful eyes meet your gaze. “You must have reallywanted that date.”

“So what do I get if I pay for the deluxe special?”

The sound of your voice pulls Jax’s attention from the woman behind the wheel of the Mazda parked alongside him. Jax smiles widely as he watches you push the door of your jeep shut.

“I’d have to take you inside and show you.”

The playful blue eyes focused on you cause you to arch your brow. “Since when are you afraid of an audience, Teller?”

“You know I’m not, darlin’” Jax chuckles as you retrieve your wallet. “I just know how shy you get. Wouldn’t want you to hold back if we’re planning on having some fun today.”

Dropping the twenty into the jar in his hand, you can’t deny your best friend a smile as Jax comes to a stop before you.

The parking lot of Teller-Morrow is full of cars, tables of food prepared by Gemma, familiar faces, and a number of shirtless Sons. The car wash is in full swing. You sat in line for fifteen minutes, listening to the car radio, as the line slowly inched it’s way through the gate of the parking lot. The only reason you did not turn around to go home is that you are technicallysupposed to be working the car wash. You had promised Gemma you’d stop by after your shift at work.

“We need men to get their cars washed too, sweetheart,” she’d reminded you as she walked you out last night. “So come on by after work, bring your bikini and a smile.”

Although your arrival is nearly and hour late, one look around the crowded parking lot has confirmed your suspicions. Jax did not need the help. The prospect of seeing him, specifically, dripping in water and suds was enough to bring every woman in Charming down to the autoshop.

“You’re a little over dressed,” he notes, his eyes passing over your outfit.

“I came straight from work.”

“Hey, I’ve been working,” Jax starts, the rolling of your eyes causes him to chuckle.

“I’m sure you have.” The smile on your face grows as you tug your shirt over your head. “For someone’s whose been working, you’re awfullydry.”

“I had to leave some cars for you,” Jax continues, his eyes lingering on green fabric of your bikini top. “When word spread you’d be here, a whole line of cars showed up.”

“I bet,” you laugh sarcastically.

“Besides,”Jax grins as you bend down to retrieve the bucket of soapy water by his feet. “My job’s to bring in the cars, not wash ‘em.”

“I don’t know.” Your eyes pass over the parking lot. You wait until your gaze returns to his to continue. “I think some of these ladies might demand a refund if they don’t see you wet at least once today.”

“You sure you don’t have an ulterior motive, sweetheart?” Jax’s brow arches, tongue passing over his lips as your eyes drop from his. “If you wanna see—“

Jax freezes, his words getting caught between the breath that catches in his lungs. The remnants from the bucketful of soapy water launched his way drips from his head, down his chest, trickling down to his toes.

The initial shock leaves Jax and the on lookers quiet. Jax runs his hand down his face, wiping the suds away. Blinking, he shakes out his hair. The smile on his face growing as he takes in your playful eyes.

Jax runs his hands through his hair. “Was it worth it?”

You allow your eyes to take him in. A warm blush has crept across Jax’s skin by the times have you’ve finished allowing yourself to admire your handiwork.

“Nope.”The response is not what he is expecting. Jax’s brow furrows as he watches you shake your head. Bending down, you retrieve the second bucket, drenching him before he can move out the way. “Nowit’s worth it.”

You only make it two steps before your feet are off the ground, Jax throwing you over your shoulder.

“I was just joking,” you giggle. The sound does little to deter Jax as he carries you across the lot towards the hose. “Jax!”

Music and laughter drift across the backyard of the Cody house. Empty beer bottles and soda cans have been abandoned. The once-bustling backyard is now empty. The party shifted inside to enjoy the steaks and burgers, fresh off the grill, in the sanctuary of air conditioning.

Your arms rest against the hot concrete of the pool’s edge, your cheek pressed against your skin. Eyes closed, you listen to the conversations and music muffled by the glass separating you from your friends.

From the moment your plane touched down at LAX, you have been dreaming of swimming in the Cody’s pool. After mingling and catching up with friends, you haven’t seen since Christmas break, you discarded your sundress and disappeared beneath the cool water.

“Shit, look who decided to fly back out West.” A soft smile finds your lips as the weight of Josh’s hands settles against your waist. “Thought Miss. Ivy League was too good to slum it with us criminals.”

“Trust me, nothing’s changed,” you catch a brief peek at a pair of playful light blue eyes as you look over your shoulder. “I’m only back because I missed the sun.”

J’s chuckle is low, his smile brushing against your shoulder as he guides your hips back to meet his. You could blame the heat as the reason why you don’t move away, say you’re too exhausted to muster up the strength, but the smile on your lips says otherwise. The kiss lingering against your pulse relaxes your limbs, your body thankful you have the edge of the pool to keep you stable.

It is a kiss fueled by a single purpose. To test the waters and disapprove the last conversation you and your ex-boyfriend shared on the phone a week prior.

“When you coming over?” It is a question you knew Josh would ask the moment you’d shared your plans to return home for the summer.

“When I have time,” you’d sighed. “I’m busy, Josh. I’ve got online summer classes, this internship, plus my part-time gig—we’re not in high school anymore. I can’t spend all day hanging by the pool with you.”

The sigh that escapes your lips as J’s fingers slip beneath the strap of your bikini brings a smile to his lips. He’s one step closer to getting his answer. The pressure of his lips against your neck, paired with his wandering fingers, is enough to distract your mind from the heat bogging you down.

“‘S that all you missed?” J drags his thumb along the curve of your breast, urging you to answer his question.

Your silence prompts his touch to wander. The pad of his thumb, rolling over your nipple, coaxes out the answer to his question. Before it can slip out, betraying your declaration made when you left last summer, you bite your lip.

You nod your head, the “yep”you manage not sounding nearly as assured as it did in your head. “Well–that and this pool.”

“So, I take it you don’t wanna go inside?” The soft and meticulous kisses he leaves against your neck match the movements of his fingers as they drift beneath the waistband of your bottoms.

“Josh, your uncles are inside–”

“So I guess we’ve gotta do it here then,” he mutters against your skin.

His face tucks against the warmth of your neck as he guides himself into you. Your mind lags, trapped between the wall and the heat of his touch. Time apart has done little to erase your body from his mind. Two years of a whirlwind romance meant J knew how to reel you back in, no matter how much time has passed. He knew where to place his lips and fingers, to shut off the rational part of your brain meant to warn you from falling back into this cycle.

His thrusts are slow and deep, his fingers helping build the pressure in a way that pushes away your initial fear of how you two might appear. Two exes who are incapable of escaping one another’s orbits. Somehow, the only two from the party who were not interested in eating or escaping the record-breaking heatwave. Two exes who can easily be seen if someone bothered to glance away from their conversation to look through the giant glass doors to the backyard.

From the kitchen, the breathless words Josh mutters against your ear appears to be an innocent attempt at catching up. No one would take a second glimpse. Each time you say you’re finished, the two of you fall back into one another’s orbit. But the grin on his face as you clench and tremble against him says otherwise.

“Welcome home, Ivy League,” he chuckles his lips pressing a final kiss against your shoulder, the warmth of his body slipping away as he pushes himself off the wall.

“You got ice cream?”

You glance away from your freshly opened cup of ice cream, to find your husband kicking off his shoes.

“Yep.”Nodding towards the living room, you redirect your attention to the vanilla ice cream. “The boys wanted some.”

Rio nods, eyes passing to the living room where his three sons can be found laying on the floor. Eyes focused on the movie playing, they both quietly eat their ice cream. The flattened Cold Stone bag resting on the counter causes him to pout.

“Where’s mine?”

Sliding your keys across the counter, you take a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. “Back at the store.”

Rio’s eyes roll, the playful eyes that briefly meet his causing him to reach forward. You skillfully block his hand, a giggle falling for your lips as you shield your ice cream.

“No one knew you’d be home this early,” you ignore the dark brown eyes trying their best to coax you into sliding the cup back within Rio’s reach. “If you would have let me know, I would’ve gotten you some.”

Rio remains where he is as you leave your explanation at that. He watches silently as you make a point of taking another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. Your gaze lifts, a smile forming as you watch his eyes follow the path of your tongue as you lick the whipped cream for the corner of your lips.

The snide remark stops on the tip of his tongue as Rio takes in the lightweight white crop top and high-waisted cutoffs you wear.

“You went out wearingthat?”

“Last I checked, I can wear whatever I want.”

“I’m not saying that,” he starts. His brow arches as he takes a second look at the shorts you wear. “I’m more worried about the poor kid behind the counter. Probably won’t be able to get you outta his head for a week.”

Even if you don’t bother to entertain your husband’s teasing you know who Rio speaks of. The cocky college kid who worked the counter and flirted with every female to enter the store. The same college kid who melted and turned into a blubbering mess each time you smiled at him.

“Rio, stop teasing him,” you had mumbled the last time Rio joined you on the ice cream run. Your hand had slapped your husband’s chest as his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting against your shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

“Trust me, you couldn’t handle her, kid,” he chuckled as the poor boy fumbled with the change in his hand.

“What can a girl do?” you sigh, a casual tone falling from your lips. “It’s hot outside. There’s a heatwave.”

“So I’ve heard,” he notes. “You’re walking around with your ass hanging out, fueling every teenage wet dream down the block.”

Your shoulders let off a soft shrug as you take another spoonful of ice cream. Your husband’s gaze drifts lower, ghosting over your spine as your elbows rest against the marble countertop. His grip tightens as you push your hips back allowing your ass to grind against him.

“Jealousy has never been a good look on you, Christopher.”

Rio releases a dry laugh. “So you’rereally not gonna share?”

“Nope.”Your playful eyes drift past him to the clock. “They don’t close for a few hours, so you still have time to go get your own. Say hi to my friend for me.”

“Damn,” Rio’s head shakes, his hands settling on your waist. “First no kiss—“

“I’m sorry I’m not breaking my neck to greet you with a kiss at the door every time you come home,” the relaxing of your body against his chest, as his arms wrap around your middle, betrays the rolling of your eyes.

“Then, you can’t even share some ice cream?” Rio shakes his head. “With your own husband—“

“Who is grown, and old enough to get in the car—“

“The father of your children—“ He adds, his laughter muffled against the warmth of your neck.

“Oh my goodness,”you giggle pushing his hand away as he tries for the cup from a different angle. “Am I going to be hearing that the rest of my life?”

“Every damn day.”

Dropping your spoon into your cup, you push yourself upright before turning to face your husband.

He softly shakes his head, an amused smile toying with his lips as Rio takes your face in his hands. You stand on your toes to meet him halfway. The kiss he leaves against your lips draws you closer. A smile presses against your lips as your arms wrap around his waist pulling his body closer to yours.

“I’mstillnot sharing.” Your giggles fill the air before you can fully complete the sentence, the admission causing Rio’s eyes to roll. Your hand lightly presses against his chest. “Guess you’re not a good as you think.”

“It’s all good,” Rio chuckles, hands slipping into your back pocket to guide your hips closer. “That’s not what I want.”

manny montana: @kimljn@kaystacks17@crybabysdeadbunny@youlovetkay@harryswhore03@mariaxliliana@partypoison00@corpse-babe

hunnam tags:@witching-hour@marvelousmermaid@qveendiorsworld@soaharleys

Joaquin tags: @uhlxis@1940sbuckybarnes

mayans mc + angel tags:@thesandbeneathmytoes@agoldin@katastrophic04@rose-bliss@mayansxlover@joannasteez@est1887@brwnlikefoxy@nemesis729@destiny-tsukino@inyourbackpocketisbutterflies@ilikechocolatemilkh@montanaraed@aria725@sesamepancakes@crashbarbie@leahnicole1219@trulysuccubus@trhett21@whatupitshuff@babaohhhriley@helli4nthus@wiccanmetallicrose@losolvidad0s@abbiesthings@the-jer-bear@binooo98@gemini0410@thelovelyleo23@themarkblues@crashbarbie@cyka1312@noz4a2@zoovent​@lakamaa12​@making-starsdance