#chuck timely

i need some high hopes lord knows i could use em!

long story short: chuck never gets laid. something about his personality made him “unlovable” or maybe it was the fact he’s always hungover, or that he’s always late, or that he’s really broke. one of those, probably.

one fateful day, you ended up at joys automobile, god knows what was wrong with your car. greeting you, was no other than mr chuck timely. you’d never met, but obviously you’ve heard stories. he greeted you with a big buck tooth smile, “chuck,” he said shaking your hand “what’s wrong with your car?” you explained to him, even though you didn’t really know what was up,

you sat in the lobby for a couple hours while he worked, honestly you didn’t know what was so bad about him. he was kinda charming? he’d pop out every so often to come say hi and update you on the status of your car. he comes back out a final time to tell you it’s finished, you thank him and pay but inside you’re kind of upset to say goodbye to him. that is until you get in a car and see a paper tucked in the cup holder. you unfold it, “316-348-4313 call me :)” oh my god. none of your friends could know about this, or they would be so dissapointed. chuck timely of all people.

you were knocking on the door of a small, rustic house the following night. he answers and greets you with a hug. “well are you gonna come in?” he jokes. he was honestly a really nice guy when you got to know him! you’d returned home satisfied that night, he wasn’t that bad in bed either.

but he still had the question: does love come around or does one come around to it?

AN: HEYY!! short little fic because i am so up i love you chuck timely

it was a normal sunday morning for you, nothing out of the ordinary as you left your hot pilates class, heading down the street to your favorite coffee place for your little pick-me-up latte after your workout. you and your best friend, abigail, made it a weekly tradition to go to pilates together, followed by a decently long walk to go get coffee. during this time was when you two would have your weekly debrief, because it truly was the only free time between your both busy schedules. today, along with the past four weeks, all you could catch up on was how sex deprived you had been.

“i swear, abi, it’s been fucking forever,” you sighed, fanning yourself off with your hands as the hot july sun beat down on you two, “like i’m starting to forget what a man’s touch felt like.”

she snorted in response, shaking her head with a laugh. “you’ll be fine. it’s been, what, two months? maybe three? try six, girl.”

you sighed exasperatedly, letting out a groan. “i know, i know, but i’m seriously going insane. i’m starting to get ready to throw myself at anything that breathes at this point.”

“someone’s gonna come around, don’t whore around over it,” abigail laughed, nudging you playfully as you both continued your walk.

the rest of the trek there was filled with light hearted banter, finally reaching the cafe. it was abigail's turn to buy, so as she headed inside to order for you both, you found a little table outside to sit at while you waited. it was the same as it always was, a quiet little corner, with little traffic and hardly any people walking. you took in the view as you sat there, noticing all the little details around you. pink flowers in front of the coffee shop, a lady across the street with her dog, and posters tacked onto the telephone pole. missing cat, help wanted, babysitter, found cat, landscaping. and one that caught your eye. one that caught your eye so good, you had to go over and get a better look.

in big, bold, yellow and pink lettering, the flyer read: need some joy in your engine? call chuck! your jaw was practically agape, and you felt a tingle in your stomach. at the bottom of the flyer had only a few missing phone numbers, but you ripped one off in a heartbeat and stuffed it into the pockets of your leggings. sure, abigail told you not to whore around just because you weren’t getting any action, but when opportunity knocked, who were you to leave it hanging at the door? you hurried back to your seat, pretending to scroll on your phone as abigail came back outside, joining you across the table with your latte’s. it was on the tip of your tongue to tell your friend, but you decided against it. you wanted to keep it your little secret.

that night, you were getting ready to get into bed, following your sunday evening routine like you did every week. after pilates, you deep cleaned your apartment, did your laundry, and took your 10-step everything shower before ordering takeout. as you changed into your pajamas, freshly smelling like cashmere and vanilla, you suddenly remembered the crumpled up phone number in your leggings. you hurried to your laundry basket, fishing the tiny paper out as if it were disintegrating each second it remained longer in your pocket. you unfolded it carefully, revealing the number in a bright pink color. you took the paper back into the living room with you, feeling a sudden sense of nervousness crash over you like a tidal wave. you decided to distract yourself with chinese food and a movie, saving the number for bedtime.

much to your surprise, the food and movie did distract you. around 9:30, you were shot from the day, and headed back into bed. getting under the covers, you reached for the tiny piece of paper that was crumpled up on your nightstand. the number in one hand, your phone in the other, you hesitantly dialed the phone number into the keypad, holding it up to your ear as it rang. after three or four rings, the line picked up, a man’s voice speaking low into the receiver.

“hey, this is chuck, i’m either busy at work or just don’t have the time. try calling back later. okay thank you.”

the phone beeped, prompting you to leave a voicemail. you blanked for a second before hanging up, tossing your phone on top of your sheets. yet another night of spending it alone in bed, but at least you were one step closer to changing that.

the next morning, you awoke to the sound of your phone ringing, your alarm clock reading 5:38 in bright red numbers. you looked at the caller ID, an unknown number looking back at you. the early morning haze left you in seconds, when you realized that the number looked familiar, and were you knew it from.

“hello,” you answered like a question groggily, your lace voiced with sleep.

“hey, this is chuck,” the voice said back, low and deep, “‘m returning your call from last night.”

oh. it seemed kind of early for this, but you had grown desperate. and desperate times called for desperate measure. you sat up in bed, trying to gain some composure as you cleared your throat. “oh, hi, yeah,” you stumbled, “how are you?”

“fine, ma’am, how can i help ya,” he replied cooly.

“i, um, saw your flyer on the corner of 5th and 10th downtown.”

“oh, yeah?” you could hear his smirk, “pretty clever huh? all my idea too.”

you nodded, then realized he couldn’t see you. a quiet giggle fell past your lips before you continued. “uh, yeah, i liked it.”

“so, doll, what kinda car troubles are you havin’?”

did you hear that correctly? car troubles? “i’m sorry, what?”

“car troubles,” he repeated, “this is joy’s automobiles.”

“oh, right,” you said, trying to play it off. you knew this would have been too good to be true. “um, my car is making this weird noise when i turn?”

“uh huh,” he purred, scribbling something down on a notepad, “and how long has this been going on for?”

“a week?” you were just pulling stuff out of your ass. even though your car was old, it was fine. your dad had scared you enough about car maintenance when you were seventeen.

he mumbled something incorrectly, before uh-huhing one more time. “can you bring it by the shop today? around 4:30?”

you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, running it over in your head what you had to do that day. you were only scheduled 10:00-3:00 at your serving job today, so you could bring it. you tried to ignore the nagging voice in your head telling you that if it’s broken, don’t fix it, but you were in desperate need of something deep inside of you. and if that meant letting someone look at your car, so be it. what was the worst that could happen.

“yeah, 4:30 works.”

“sounds good, sweetheart, see you then,” he said, pausing before he hung up. “and doll? make sure you ask for chuck.”

“you did what?” your coworker, hunter, exclaimed.

“listen,” you said, holding your hands up in mock defense, “i’m desperate!”

“desperate enough to call some sex work hotline?” he scoffed, leaning against the host stand. the first hour and a half of work had been slow, but it was the calm before the storm. the lunch rush bound to happen any minute now.

you rolled your eyes. “it wasn’t a sex work hotline.”

“yeah, but you thought it was.”

hunter wasn’t wrong. you really did think it was some kind of hookup hotline, and you couldn’t deny the way your stomach dropped when you realized it wasn’t. “even if it’s not, it doesn’t mean it’s stopping me from getting any.”

hunter laughed, his green eyes flickering to meet yours. “ew, don’t say getting any. and if you were that desperate, you could just find some hot guy or something here.”

“i guess so,” you sighed, “maybe you’re right.”

before he could answer, a four top was heading in as you greeted them with a smile. if you were wrong about this whole situation, you could at least use hunter as a rebound. even though you had a strict don’t fuck your coworkers rule, you could make some amendments. but in the meantime, you decided it was best to just go with the flow and focus on serving. you needed the money anyway, especially if you were taking your non-broken car to get tuned up later.

the rest of your shift went by in a blink, and before you knew it, first rounds of cuts were going out, and you were getting sent home. you headed to the back to put your apron and book in your locker, where you found hunter sitting at the break table.

“leaving so soon?” he teased, not even bothering looking up from his phone.

“yeah,” you hummed, shoving your belongings into your cubby, beginning to brush your hair out, “i have an appointment to get some joy in my engine.”

he laughed loudly in response, looking up at you. “you’re actually going?”

“why not,” you shrugged, “the guy sounded hot on the phone anyway.”

hunter shook his head, chuckling to himself. “best of luck to you, i hope it goes well.”

“me too, ‘cause i’m working a double tomorrow.”

you pulled up to the auto body shop, the yard littered with old, rusted cars. the garage was a dinky little building, the front door practically falling off of it’s hinges. you hesitantly pulled up to the front, second guessing if this was really worth it. yet you still found yourself putting the car into park, throwing your keys into your purse and getting out. you walked up to the office, creaking the door open slightly. an old beat up desk was stationed in front of you, the top littered with loose papers. an older man, probably in his mid fifties, was sitting there, looking up at you like you were his saving grace.

“hi there, can i help you?” he asked, straightening out a stack of papers.

“yeah, i’ve got an appointment with chuck,” you said, although it came out more like a question.

the man’s face fell instantly upon hearing the name. “chuck,” he repeated, “as in, the young guy?”

your brows furrowed in confusion. “i guess, i only found him because of the flyers and-“

“those damn flyers,” the man snapped, although not intended to be at you. “y’know, i told him if he doesn’t get his act together in the next month, he’s outta here. always showin’ up late, falling asleep on the job.”

“oh, yeah, i mean, i saw it and knew my car needed to be looked at, so i figured i’d call,” you mused, nodding your head.

the man grumbled under his breath, murmuring a small excuse me before heading past you and out to the lot. you peeked behind you through the tiny window in the door, watching as the man practically stomped up to a car, flinging the door open and pulling a man out of the front seat. he was much taller than the older guy, and much hotter too. he was lean, but muscular enough where you could see his muscles flex through his white t-shirt. his jeans were stained, but hugged his hips and ass in a way that made you squeeze your thighs together. both of his arms were adorned in tattoos, none that you could make out, but enough to see they were covered from his shoulders to his wrists. he was wearing a baseball cap, and looking both annoyed and disoriented as the older man, whom you presumed his boss, was practically shoving him towards the garage.

you quickly pretended that you were completely occupied and not watching them, opening up your phone and picking some app to scroll on. the door swung open, the taller man’s boots tapping on the hardwood floor. you had to keep yourself from practically moaning on the spot as you got a good look at him. he was mumbling something under his breath about how he was not always falling asleep like this, but stopped himself as he saw you.

he grinned, outstretching his right hand to you. “hey there, pretty lady. name’s chuck.”

you took his hand in yours, his grip firm as you shook. you were too dazed to even speak. before you could try, chuck’s boss was cutting you off.

“are you sure you want him, ma’am? i’m only due to work til 4:30 but i don’t mind staying late to work.”

“no, no, i’m okay,” you replied as you shook your head, eyes still fixated on chuck.

chuck smirked down at you, his brown eyes glistening. “i’ll take good care of her, don’t worry.”

the boss rolled his eyes, heading to the desk and grabbing his coat off of the chair, tossing a pair of keys to chuck. “don’t forget to lock up this time.”

a small giggled left your glossed lips as the man moved past you both, clearly annoyed. he didn’t hide the fact that chuck was his least favorite employee, and he didn’t want him to be the cause of any more lost business. as the door clicked shut behind you, chuck turned to you with a smile. “where’re you parked, ma’am?”

“right there in the front, that little black car,” you said, pointing to your car that was in the front of the lot, a stark contrast to the rest of the cars there. chuck nodded as he outstretched his hands, waiting for you to hand him the keys. you fished them out of your purse, handing them over to him.

“i’m just gonna pull her up on the lift, you can head out that little door there and into the garage. my spots all the way on the far left. can’t miss it.”

you nodded, stepping down and out the door that led into the garage, the smell of motor oil and gasoline filling your nostrils in an instant. the place was nearly all dark, except for a strip of overhead lights that were turned on as far back as the garage would go. you headed over, walking past a couple cars and into the last station where chuck had told you to go.

he was right, you couldn’t miss it. his desk was scattered like the one in the office, but instead of papers and important documents, it was littered with both anything and everything. old cassettes that looked like they were older than you, half drank mugs of coffee, food wrappers. on the wall behind it, there were polaroids tacked into the cork board that was hung up. you took a closer look at them, smiling as you read each caption. one photo was of chuck on a dirt bike, the words maine, 2026, scribbled underneath in black sharpie. another photo displayed chuck in between two friends, one in a bridal gown and the other in a black tuxedo. neither of them looked amused, but chuck stood in the middle, grinning widely as the caption under that one read hungover but i still made it. you laughed to yourself as you looked around more. underneath his desk he had a guitar case that was left open, a black guitar that read chuck in big bold letters sat inside.

before you could snoop around anymore, the garage door was opening, chuck driving your car in and parking it on the lift. he got out, flashing you a smirk as he strode over to the spot next to you, flipping a switch on the wall to make the car rise. “you findin’ anything good on my desk there?” he teased, turning the switch off and turning to face you. your mouth opened yet no words came out, trying to form a response. “i’m only teasing, here,” he grinned, clearing a space on the desk and patting the spot, “sit here.”

you nodded, hopping up onto the cleared area, legs swinging. he smiled over at you, heading to the car and getting down to look underneath it. “so, you said it’s making sounds when you turn?”

“yeah,” you called out, speaking louder as he fully got under the car, “for like the last week or so.”

“uh huh,” he grunted, “i’m looking at the axle now to see if anything’s wrong with that.”

“okay,” you murmured, looking around again. one cassette that was on his desk caught your eye. “you like the dire straits?”

you heard him chuckling from underneath the car, reaching down for a tool. “yeah, i do. you too?”

you mhmed, nodding your head. “my dad played them all the time for me.”

“yeah, mine too,” he replied cooly, “all those cassettes were my dads. he gave ‘em to me to play at work.”

“do you?”

“nah,” he chuckled, “the guys don’t like it, but i still keep them here anyway in case one day they let me.”

you were quiet for a beat before speaking again. “how long have you worked here?”

“here? only a year and a half. but i’ve been doing this for about eleven or so years, started right after i left school,” he said.

“you like it?”

chuck paused his motions for a moment, like your question really hit him. he picked back up in a moment, though, continuing to crank something underneath your car. “not really.”

a frown formed on your lips, even though he couldn’t see you. “why not?”

“it kinda sucks,” he replied, sounding like he was almost laughing to himself. “my boss hates me, my coworkers barely even know me, and it gets lonely doin’ the same stuff over and over and over again.”

“they don’t know you?”

“nah,” he chuckled, “they don’t even get my name right.”

“your name’s not chuck?” he rolled out from underneath the car, sitting up to face you and smile. he shook his head no, lifting his shirt up to wipe a grease stain off his face. his abdomen was exposed for a second, abs flexing and tattoos on display. you smiled back at him. “what’s your name then?”

“tucker,” he said, his voice sounding softer than you had heard it before. “my name’s tucker. i guess they heard the tuck part and just started calling me chuck.”

your expression went gentle. “tucker,” you said slowly, like you were trying out the word to see how it felt when you spoke, “i like that.”

“thanks, doll,” he murmured before sliding back under the car, “and don’t get me started on my boss.”

you giggled. “what’s wrong with your boss? he seemed all sunshine and rainbows to me.”

“ha ha,” tucker said sarcastically, “very funny.”

“seriously, though,” you started, “what’s wrong with him?”

“he’s got it out for me,” tucker explained, grunting as he did something else under the car, “says i’m always late and sleeping on the job and whatnot. he told me if i can’t turn stuff around in a month he’s letting me go. that’s why i hung up those flyers downtown.”

“ohh, i see,” you mused, “that sounds stressful.”

“i ain’t worried,” tucker said, “he’s full of shit.”

before you could speak, he was sliding out from under the car, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his forearm. “i didn’t see anything wrong with the axle, doll. i checked your rotors too and they’re okay too.”

you pretended to look shocked, like you absolutely knew there was something wrong with the car. “really?”

“really,” he replied cooly, walking up to the desk. he reached past you, grabbing a pack of malboro reds and a lighter. he took one from the pack, bringing it to his lips, cupping the lighter around the end of the cigarette. his eyes flicked up to yours. “want one?”

you shook your head. “no thanks.”

tucker shrugged, inhaling deeply as he lit up, the end of the cigarette glowing red. a dark cloud of smoke left his pink lips as he put the pack into his back pocket along with the lighter. “i can take a look under the hood, but i don’t think anything’ll be out of place if your car’s making noises when you turn.”

you nodded in agreement, silently wondering how much of his lie you could keep dragging out. “i mean, does it hurt to look?”

he smirked, inhaling the cigarette once more. “nah, and besides, i don’t have anything better to be doing tonight.”

even though his words seemed sarcastic, it was evident by his tone that he really did mean it. you smiled up at him sweetly, bating your lashes. “well, i really appreciate it, tucker.”

“anytime.” his voice was low, eyes remaining on yours as he leaned closer. your lips were parted, breath shaky, and for a half-second, your gaze flickered down to his lips as he leaned in. before you could close your eyes and lean up, he was pausing in front of you to put the cigarette out on the ash try that was perched on the desk, eyes still locked on yours. you two just sat there for a moment before tucker cleared is throat, stepping back. “let me go pop the hood.”

“yeah, okay,” you nodded, your voice trembling.

the next thirty minutes or so was filled with small talk as tucker tried to investigate the problem (and not passing up any opportunity to call you doll or sweetheart), and you putting up your best act to convince him there really was something wrong with your car. because how could you tell him that this was all a facade and that you only had called his number thinking he was some sort of male prostitute. but it’s not like the situation you were in was anything less than you were expecting from the phone call. the more time tucker spent inside and underneath your car, the more strained his voice was getting, and the more his muscles were flexing under his t-shirt. he was beginning to grow frustrated, sweat and grease dripping down nearly every part of his body. for you, it was like watching real life porn. you had to squeeze your thigh together just to get some sort of relief, your panties getting wetter and wetter with each grunt and groan tucker let out.

you both were in the middle of a conversation about a recent trip tucker took home to maine, before he shot up from under the hood of your car, strutting over to you and your spot on the desk. you were taken back, stopping your sentence abruptly when you saw the frustration on his face. his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes crinkling as he stopped in front of you. “listen to me, little lady, i checked every part of your car, everything’s perfect.”

“are you sure,” you stammered, “‘cause i could’ve sworn-“

“yeah, yeah, i’ve heard it,” tucker murmured sternly, cutting you off, “it’s making a weird noise when you turn. there’s nothing wrong it.”

you sat there for a moment, completely dumbfounded as you tried to rack your brain for some sort of excuse to keep you there longer. as if he could read your mind, tucker leaned in, smirking as he placed his hands on either side of your legs on the desk, keeping you trapped there “and you’re completely sure that’s why you called, doll? nothin’ else that needed to be looked at?”

this was the only time in your life you ever truly felt like you were at a loss for words. you slowly shook your head no, although the expression on your face was contradicting. your eyes were filled with want and desperation as you quietly murmured, “no, really, there is something wrong.”

tucker smirked, not convinced at all. “is that right, sweetheart? you didn’t call ‘cause you needed some joy in your engine?”

you couldn’t help the moan that you let out involuntarily, instantaneously drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to keep your mouth shut. your cheeks flushed a deep red as you felt like your face was on fire, a heat beginning to pool in between your legs.

tucker took this as an opportunity to get closer, moving himself between your legs, keeping one hand on the desk and the other tilting your chin, forcing you to look up at him. you could feel his breath fanning against you, the faint smell of cigarettes and spearmint gum. his fingers danced across your jawline, moving back to tangle themselves in your hair, pulling you even closer. “what do you need?”

“you,” you breathed out, gasping as tucker’s lips crashed into yours. your arms wrapped around his neck in an instant, tugging him even closer as your mouth worked against his. tucker wasted no time in moving both hands down to your ass, kneading it through your jeans and rocking you against his hips. he groaned lowly, moving one hand up to cup your chin, parting your lips for you. you swallowed every little sound he made into your mouth, kissing him like your life had depended on it. your legs wrapped around his waist, moving them with his one hand, feeling his bulge strain harder and harder against his jeans with every movement.

you broke away momentarily, gasping for air before delving back into him, moaning softly as you felt his tongue slip into your mouth. he worked the muscle against yours, exploring the new territory as his lips still moved against yours expertly.

“fuck, pretty,” he groaned into your mouth, “keep movin’ like that.”

nodding your head obediently as you listened to his words, you continued to grind against him. the friction in your jeans was growing, and you had been so deprived that you were about to burst from just a little grinding.

tucker could feel the desperation radiating from your body, his hands roaming all along your hips and waist, dipping underneath the fabric of your shirt. you melted at the feeling of his calloused fingers on your bare skin, brows furrowing as you let out a whiny moan. his lips trailed from your mouth to your jawline, kissing along there before working his mouth against your neck.

"you like that?” tucker asked, his voice husky. “you can touch me too, y’know.”

you wasted absolutely no time in taking him up on his offer, your arms unraveling from around his neck and sliding down his chest, your fingers curling up in his t-shirt as you rested them against his chest. one hand stayed on his chest, the other moving down his abdomen, below the fabric of his dirtied shirt. you could feel his abs tense up, your gentle fingers dancing over his skin, tangling in the trail of hair that led down to his dick. tucker shuddered under your touch, sighing against your skin.

the both of you were growing more needy and desperate with each passing second, tucker littering bright, red marks across your neck and down your throat.

“tell me what you need, sweetheart, let me help ya,” tucker muttered against your skin, the sound of his voice vibrating against your throat, making your stomach flip.

“i need you, fuck,” you whined, still grinding your hips against his now fully hard cock, desperate for any sort of relief.

“i know baby, where? where do you need me?”

god, you were absolutely soaked. you slowly took your hand off of his abdomen, placing it over the hand he had planted on your ass. you took it off, redirecting the placement to your aching core, letting tucker press his fingers against your heat.

“shit,” he murmured, “this is all from me?”

you nodded, feeling like you were five seconds away from exploding if he didn’t get inside of you this instant. tucker grinned against your neck, keeping one hand on your hips and pulling the other one from your soaked jeans. he reached for the switch on the wall, bringing the car down from the lift. the machine made a loud humming noise, clanking to a stop as it was back on ground level. he wasted no time and hoisting you off the desk, carrying you over to the car, laying you out on top of the hood. you moaned as tucker pressed his body against yours, pinning you down against the cool metal.

“how do you want me, baby?” tucker asked, his lips continuing their tour around the entirety of your neck and jawline. “do you want my mouth,” he started, murmuring between kisses, “or my fingers, or do you want me inside of you?”

“that one,” you moaned out, “inside.”

tucker laughed against your skin, his hands darting up your shirt again, this time reaching up and cupping one of your breasts over your bra. “we doin’ this on the hood or in the backseat?” he asked, hips rutting against yours.

“backseat,” you murmured, one leg wrapping around tucker’s hip. he pried you off the hood, holding you up with one arm as the other fumbled to get the back door open. he let you get inside, climbing back on top of you in and instant as he pulled the door shut. for a tiny little sedan, your backseat was pretty roomy, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for it in that moment.

you were fully laid down, your head resting against the door as tucker was pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his tattooed body. a thin, gold chain dangled from his neck, a tiny pendant with the silhouette of maine hanging from it. from his chest down, and his shoulders on, the man was scattered with tattoos. and as if he couldn’t get any more attractive, his hands, arms, face and chest were covered with grease and oil from being waist deep inside and under your car.

tucker took note of the way you were staring up at him, smirking as he started undoing the buttons of your top. “you like what you’re seein’?” he asked teasingly, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he undid each button. he laughed at the way you bobbed your head up and down so hard it could’ve fallen off, loving how you were practically putty in his hands. your shirt was unbuttoned and lost somewhere in the front, joining tucker’s as he dipped his head down, lips pressed against your sternum. even though the appointment you made was to get your car checked out, that didn’t stop you from picking out your best bra and panties to wear under your work clothes today.

a dark blue lacy bra covered your breasts, pushing them up, making your cleavage spill out over the cups. tucker wasted no time in letting his hands roam over your waist, fingers dancing along the band of your bra as he buried his face in your tits. his mouth trailed over the valley of your breasts, taking his time in pleasuring you. “god,” he groaned into your plush skin, “i could spend all fucking night here.”

a soft sigh escaped your parted lips, fingers lacing through his messy brown hair as his lips worked against you. the hand that wasn’t skimming across your ribs was reaching around behind you, fiddling with the clasp of your bra before pulling it off. tucker leaned back for a moment to admire you, your cheeks rosy and chest heaving. “y’okay?” he asked breathlessly, waiting for your nod of approval before delving back into your soft skin.

tucker’s lips worked your tit, licking and sucking at whatever he could, his other hand coming up to massage the other. you were whimpering and writhing beneath him, feeling a heat growing in your lower tummy. you were too spent to form a coherent thought, the only thing going through your brain was tucker, tucker, tucker. your hands were gripping his hair, suffocating him against your chest. tucker was no better than you were, his jeans getting tighter and tighter with each passing second. he wanted you badly, and he wanted you now. you both could feel each other's impatientness, the car windows already fogged with the heat radiating off of you two.

tucker switched to your other tit, continuing his ministrations there. his free hand slid down your stomach and began messing with the button on your jeans. your hips were involuntarily bucking up to meet his hands, itching for any sort of release.

“slow it down, sweetheart, ‘m not going anywhere,” tucker encouraged lowly, his mouth still wrapped around you. he peaked his head up to you down at you, hair sticking to his forehead. you could tell that he wasn’t doing much better than you, and was getting just as needy as you were. your hand moved from the back of his head to rest on the side of his face, your thumb wiping a bit of grease off of his tanned skin. you swallowed, letting out a shaky breath as you nodded.

“i know,” you started, “i just want you bad.”

“god, me too, doll,” he groaned, leaning back down as his mouth attacked your chest once more. his hands were quick to get you out of those jeans, pulling them down your legs and kicking them off your ankles. the only thing between you now was the soaked fabric of your panties, and the denim of tucker’s jeans. the feeling of his hard on though such a thin layer had you dripping, your slickness falling onto the seat beneath you. you were absolutely itching to get tucker out of those jeans, your hands leaving his face and chest to run down his lower stomach and toy with his belt buckle. a shaky moan left your lips as you looked at what exactly it was you were doing, the sight alone making you nearly cum on the spot.

tucker’s dick was completely strained against his jeans, his bulge like a rock in his pants. and right above it was a thick, black leather belt holding his jeans up, a giant gold chuck buckle at the top, the “c” curving around the other letters. his navy boxers peeked out from his jeans, a long trail of dark hair leading to what you wanted the most.

you were practically salivating at this point, tucker pulling his head back up to look down at you. “go ahead, baby,” he murmured, “take ‘em off.”

he didn’t have to tell you twice. your hands were already wrapped around the chuck buckle, undoing his belt in record time. you pulled the leather off from his jeans, tossing it somewhere in the car. before tucker could mutter another word, his jeans were at his ankles as you pulled him down by the hips, his cock poking into your heat through the fabric of both of your underwear. he let out a guttural moan into your neck at the feeling of your warm pussy soaking through the thin layer of fabric against him. he rutted his hips against yours, grinding his dick onto you.

“you’re still okay?” he asked with a whine, his fingers dipping below the waist band of your underwear. ““i can take these off?” you bobbed your head up and down, unable to string together a cohesive sentence. tucker looked up at you, his brown eyes finding yours. “use your words, sweetheart, tell me i can.”

“yes,” you gasped, “it’s okay, take them off, please, i need you.”

tucker chuckled lowly against your skin at your neediness, nearly tearing your panties off of you and he pulled them down. he kissed his way down from your neck to your core, pulling back to admire your leaking hole on display for him. he was in awe at the sight in front of him, unable to stop himself from reaching his hand up to run his fingers along your slick lips.

“hi there, pretty girl,” he murmured, leaning in to lick a long stripe up your pussy. your head fell back against the fogged window as a loud moan ripped from your throat, your hands curling in tucker’s hair. he continued his actions, licking repeatedly around your hole, moving up to wrap his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves. your legs were shaking as you wrapped them around tucker’s torso, his lips trailing from your clit to your inner thighs.

god, you couldn’t take it anymore. your hips bucked up, bumping tucker’s nose as you tried to get some sort of friction. “tucker,” you sobbed, tears starting to well in your eyes, “please, just fuck me already.”

“say please again,” he murmured as he left a dark bruise on your thigh.

“please,” you begged, “please, i’ve been so good, i want you so bad.”

you could feel the vibrations of him laughing against your skin, his eyes flicking up from between your legs to meet your gaze. you peered down at him, your expression straight out of a movie. your brows were knit together tightly, your hair sprawled over your shoulders, and you jaw agape. “please,” you repeated hoarsely.

that was all it took for tucker to pull you back down on the seat, crawling further on top of you as he simultaneously pulled his boxers down. his length sprung up, hitting his lower tummy as his tip was leaking with precum. he reached down to grab his pants off the car floor, fishing in his back pocket to pull a condom from his wallet. within the blink of an eye, he had the little silver wrapper in his mouth, tearing it open, handing you the condom. “put it on f’me.”

nodding your head yes, you took the little piece of rubber from his hand, holding his dick as you took it heftily into your hands. your thumb ran across his slit, earning a sound from tucker you didn’t know he was capable of making. you spread the precum around his tip before sliding the condom on, giving his dick a gentle squeeze before resting your hands on his biceps. tucker breathed heavily, gently removing one hand from his bicep, bringing it back down to his dick as he slowly guided it towards your entrance. “help me put it in.”

the moan you let out was guttural and involuntary as you felt tucker’s thick cock slide inside of you, stretching your gummy walls out as they hugged around him. tucker’s head dropped to your shoulder, grunting lowly as he slowly pushed himself all the way in, bottoming out as his tip touched your cervix.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned, “you’re so fucking tight.”

“for you,” you whined, back arching up into him. tucker mumbled something incoherent into your skin before slowly pulling out, then sliding right back in. you were already a whimpering and whining mess within the first few thrusts, babbling nonsense as he began to pick up the pace.

“harder,” you pleaded, “i need it harder.”

“already?” tucker asked, his hips driving into you. he watched as you nodded, eyes screwed shut.

“please.”

tucker didn’t have to be told twice. he began ramming into you at a pace he didn’t know was possible. he was sliding out all the way before lunging back into you, hitting your g spot over and over again. your nails clawed at his toned back, unable to get a good hold on him due to the sweat and grease dripping down his body. his hand came up to cradle the crown of your head and stop it from hitting the car door as he continued to fuck you hard.

the car was shaking so bad it was about to fall apart. the air inside was thick, the both of your bodies radiating so much heat that every window was completely fogged up. you two were completely tangled with one another, where you didn’t know the point where you ended and tucker began. he continued slamming his hips into yours, his balls slapping against you with every thrust. his mouth was all over you, leaving wet and sloppy kisses all along your collarbone and neck while he groaned against you.

tucker’s hand left your hip, moving down to find that sensitive bundle of nerves again. within seconds, his long and slender fingers were circling your bud, pressing into it as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

“you like that?” tucker teased. “you like when i touch you here?”

all you could do was babble as your legs shook, the amount of pleasure overcoming you. the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of tucker deep inside of you and the dirty things he was whispering into your ear. his motions against your clit never ceased, drawing you closer and closer to your release.

as tucker continued to ram into you, you snapped your hips up to meet his with every thrust, unable to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. on top of that, the pressure he was applying to your bud was making your vision blur. you were gasping and moaning as he relentlessly fucked up into you, his face buried in your neck.

“you’re close, baby, i can feel you,” you moaned, nipping at your neck.

“uh huhh,” you drew out, eyes scrunching shut, “you feel so good.”

“that’s all you, baby,” he replied, “d’you wanna come?”

“yes,” you practically screamed, your nails digging so hard into him you had to have pierced his skin.

“go ahead then, angel, let go. i’m right there with you.”

your orgasm washed over you like it never had before. your vision nearly blacked as you felt the months long worth of need finally get its release. your hips uncontrollably spasmed around tucker, moving an a rhythmic motion as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. your jaw was slack, brow furrowed and eyes scrunched tightly as a loud and guttural moan ripped right through you. you could hear tucker murmuring soft praises to you before he was gripping you tight, holding you steady as he came deep inside you. his hips bucked into yours, riding out his high as he buried his face in the crevice of your neck.

your body went limp with tucker on top of you, his deadweight nearly crushing you against his backseat. his hands stayed sprawled across your hips, lips nipping at your neck. you melted into him, arms tugging him closed around his neck, burying your face in his hair. the both of you stayed like that for a while, listening to the sound of each other's recomposed breathing, along with the few sweet nothings tucker mumbled into your neck.

eventually, tucker pulled his head up, gaze soft as he peered down at you with a smile. “are you alright?” he whispered softly.

you nodded slowly, exhaling as you closed your eyes gently. “yeah, yeah, i’m okay.”

tucker leaned down, placing his lips against yours in a slow, unhurried kiss. nothing like the mess of desperation from before, but like he really wanted to kiss you. you smiled up at him sweetly as he pulled away, your hand moving to rest on his cheek.

“tucker,” you murmured quietly, “can i bring my car back in a week? i think my breaks are starting to wear.”