His Princess ( FP Jones x Reader )

Slow Burn

Written by: https://loomisjones.tumblr.com/post/172325085943/loomisjones-masterlist

"Oh my god," You patter down the trailers hallway, the carpet sticking under your feet, as you hear the front down creak open on its hinges, "if I knew the death of me would have been a heat wave, I never would of boosted about summer." You groan as you reach the kitchen and are greeted with FP who's honing in a want to laugh at your over exaggerated complaints.

Its not that you minded heat, you always have loved summer. And its not that you particularly minded the sudden heat wave- it gave a reason for trouble to sit at bay, giving you and FP the chance to stay in for once in your lives. What you did mind however, was when the air conditioner- the one you reminded FP at least four times to fix a week prier, its rattling a nouzets to, you swear, the whole town- decided to kick the bucket when the sun was high and proud, beating down at 101 degrees, the small trailer not standing a chance under the scorch.

FP tosses his Pop's hat on the recliner nearest the door, giving your towel covered ass a playful swat as you sway by to crash down into the couch. You contemplated getting dressed earlier today, but as that you just got out of your sixth ice bath of the day, you gave up the fourth time and had resorted to the attire of a towel since.

"You're lucky, you got to get out of this hell." You raise your hands to your forehead once you're seated on the couch, pushing your hair from your skin as it sticks, leaning your head back against the couch. Your towel falls from the loss of your support and pools around your sides and you contemplate retrieving it, but decide not to as it was just one too many layers in the first place.

"We could go to Pop's, Jug and his friends are there. Could whip you up a shake." FP leans over the counter as he speaks to you, knocking an empty water bottle out of his way as he does so. He trails his eyes around the kitchen when he picks up one empty bottle, then another, and one more, until he realizes you've managed to drink your way through the whole twelve pack. He huffs out a laugh and pads his way over to you, eyes not missing the chance to scan over your oh so exposed- and oh so beautiful-body.

You peel open one of your eyes to look at him as you huff out your own laugh, one eyebrow coxed as you watch FP stand in front of you, removing his apron," As tempting as seeing you do so, I don't think that's the best idea." You two had just recently announced your relationships to the man's son and let's just say, there was a reason he spent all his times at Pop's lately.

FP vibrates a hum as he continues a stagger towards you until he's between your legs, lowering himself onto his knees once he is. Once he's eye level to you, he extends his arm and takes hold of your jaw, bringing you forward to press a sticky kiss to your lips," he'll come around."

You jump your eyebrow but nonetheless, a smile seeps onto your lips as you groan a bit in agreement. His four day old scruff tickles your cheeks as you return the favor of pressing your lips to his, the exchange dry and sticky. As you tempted to pull away, FP curls his hands around your legs and sucks your bottom lip into his, giving it the treatment of a sucker.

"F," you complain, though the energy to do so was hard and delayed, "no. Its way too hot, I don't need to combust."

FP only releases a grunt of complaint as he leaves his mouth attacking yours, fingertips dancing down your body, thumb aimlessly gliding against nipple as it passes. You hum a bit, though remain grounded as your hands reach up to his shoulders in a lame attest to push him away, though they come to a rest instead of a shove when the backs of FPs fingers just ghost against your folds. Not enough to push through, but enough to make your body feel flammable.

FPs tongue swipes over the tip of yours and you do everything to hold back the desire to chase after it as he brings himself back up onto his legs, retreating back into the kitchen, giving you a response that is hallow and drawled, "we would never want that, sweetheart."