#I can't wait to sleep in on Sunday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

charlotteking23 · 3 months ago

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Such a Tease - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: You're a victim to Max's constant teasing and a pretty little woman moment. Pure fluff 🎀

It was a normal Sunday morning, you had slept wonderfully with Max cuddling you.

You took a nice warm everything shower, before deciding you wanted to make Nutella Crepes.

"Hey pretty girl", Max smiled at you while wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his head into your neck.

"Hi Maxie, how was your sleep", You grinned seeing Max's.

"hmm, slept better since you were here", Max chuckled as you rolled your eyes at his cheesy words.

" You're such a tease", You blushed seeing Max faked hurt expressions.

" But baby you're so easy to tease, especially when you get all red", Max chuckled seeing your embarrassed blushed face.

"Whatever", You replied hiding your face with your hands laughing.

"So, what do you wanna do today", Max said unwrapping his arms around you.

"You wanna go shopping today?..I mean you need some new clothes", You chuckled by eyeing Max's choice of clothes.

"You know I don't care about that kinda stuff..I like to be comfortable, Max said knowing his fans also like to make fun of his clothing choice.

"I know but come on it's fun pleaseee Maxie", You pleaded even bringing out your secret weapon..puppy dog eyes, Max can't resist it.

You saw Max roll his eyes before slowly muttering out fine.

"Yes, quickly eat so we can go", You grinned practically bouncing on your feet.

"Okay I will, Liefje," Max laughed at your obsession with shopping before quickly eating his breakfast.

After finishing your breakfast you quickly get ready, putting on a cute yellow and pink dress with white heels, a pink bow and a Hermes purse.

You walked down the stairs carefully, hearing Sassy and Jimmy eat their breakfast before probably going back to sleep.

"gimme a twirl pretty girl", Max grinned seeing how beautiful you look in your outfit.

"Are you sure you want to go..I mean we could just stay home", Max continued eyeing your babydoll dress and how innocent you look.

"No, Maxie we need to go", You said blushing under Max intense stare.

You both walked into the garage, picking out one the many cars Max owned to take shopping with.

You watched as Max drives looking so focused, his face hit by the eternal glow of the sun making him look radiant.

Max had a habit of always putting his hand on your thigh, if felt right seeing his hand their.

You could only smile, how did you get so lucky.

"What are you thinking about Liefje", Max smiled seeing you look at him with adoring eyes.

"Just how lucky I am to have you", You grinned putting your hand on top of his interwining them together.

"Liefje, what would I do without you, you don't know how lucky I am to wake up everyday to see your face in the morning, for you supporting me with my career, to love me for me not because I'm a F1 driver..I truly love you so much", Max smiled holding your hands Infront of him before kissing each knuckle individually.

"I truly love you too", You smiled back, wiping away any stray tears away only looking at Max.

"Come on pretty girl, were here", Max smirk getting out of the car and coming towards your door opening it graciously for you, his princess.

You took his hand before going towards the boutiques.

"Hmm, What do you think baby, Pink or red", You grinned holding up the outfits to your body for Max to see.

"Why don't you try them both on", Max chuckled at your smiling face seeing you walk in the dressing room as he sat on the couch waiting.

You walked out of the dressing room showing him the pink.

"It's beautiful Liefje, You look beautiful, Max said watching you blush from his ongoing complements.

You went back to the dressing room, changing into the red dress.

"What do you think", You said looking the big mirror.

"Stunning", Max said which earned a whine from you.

"Maxie you have to choose one", You giggled looking at Max.

"How about we get both", Max suggested before taking the pink and red dress in his hand.

"Are you sure..It's a lot of money and I feel bad", You quietly whispered looking up at Max.

"Don't worry Liefje, I earn this money for us..I love when you spend my money, Okay", Max whispered in your ear cupping your cheeks in admiration.

You both walked together stopping at some boutiques for you or Max.

"Look there's a ice cream place we should get some", You bounced up excitedly, hoping the ice cream would cool down the already hot day.

You both walked towards the little cafe, "Liefje, Why don't you choose a place to sit while I get the ice cream.

You nodded before choosing a little table near the window for you and Max. After 5 minutes Max came holding two ice creams, handing you one.

"Perfect", you sighed watching the people pass by the cafe.

"You have something-", Max chuckled before taking his finger wiping it slightly on your lip cleaning up the ice cream. You watched as he put his finger in his mouth 'whispering delicious'.

You could only stare at Max bold actions before blushing in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands hearing the faint laughter of Max.

"Can we go into Hermes?, I want to look around", you suggested. You have been eyeing a bag you saw on their website hoping to see it in person.

"Sure Liefje", Max smiled taking your hand as you both walked out.

Max opened the door the luxury brand Hermes, watching you look around the store.

"Hello Ma'am, are you looking for anything in particular today?", the store clerk lady questioned putting on a standard smile.

"Yes, I wanted to see this bag", You said showing the lady the purse you saw online.

"Well..this purse is more of an expensive kind, are you sure?", The lady said raising her eyebrow before faking a smile.

"Yes, I am sure", you confidently said, strange a sales lady would say something like that.

"Well here's the purse but It's not aloud to be touched", The saleslady immediately said after showing me the purse.

"It didn't say anything on the Hermes website that it couldn't be touch", You said finding something strange with this women.

"What's going on?", A dark cold voice interrupted your thoughts, seeing the sheer look of terror on the sales lady face, meant it none other that Max Verstappen.

"The lady said I am not aloud to try on this purse or even touch it, which is absurd since I have been to Hermes a million times and never heard of such a rule", You explained unhappily to Max crossing your arms around your chest.

"We are gonna purchase this purse in all the colors you have", Max replied coldly holding my hand.

"But sir-", But Max was already handing her his card.

"And ship to my address", Max stated darkly at the sales lady before gently dragging me out of the store.

"Could you believe that lady...I am gonna have to speak to the manager about the behavior", Max ranted far to deep to calm down.

"Maxie it's okay it was actually quite funny seeing you buy all the colors of the purse I want...and the look on the sales lady face was hilarious", You laughed holding your stomach in pain, before hearing Max chuckled along with you.

"I only want the best for you", Max kindly said interwining his hand with your gently kissing it.

"Such a sap", You blushed embarrassed at his romantic gesture, hearing the faint laughter of Max calling you adorable.

Suddenly you kissed Max on the cheek as pay back, seeing him blush at your bold actions, "Such a tease", Max muttered quietly for only you to hear.

You giggled at his surprise blushed face, gently taking his hand dragging him to more shopping.

Masterlist🩷

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capuccinodoll · 15 days ago

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Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter two ♡

Summary: You see Joel for the first time after the night of his birthday, and things couldn't be more different from how you thought they were. Word count: 6.8k A/N: Thank you so much for all your beautiful comments!!! I'm so glad you liked the first chapter. I honestly can't wait to keep discovering the path of this story together with you <3 thank you thank you thank youuu. FIRST CHAPTER: ♡ here ♡

Saturday. You woke up with an ache stretching through your chest, as if all the warmth you’d fallen asleep in had cooled to an empty space beside you. Joel was gone. The clock flashed 9:00 a.m., and you imagined him awake hours earlier, deciding he needed to leave. You wondered what might’ve filled his head as he slipped out—regret, embarrassment, maybe something close to the uncomfortable doubt now tightening in your stomach.

It was painful, how your mind filled in the blanks: if he’d stayed, if he’d wrapped his arms around you before you woke up, maybe it would mean something. Some quiet acknowledgment of what had happened, that you were now something different, and that it could be okay. But he’d left, and his absence felt like an answer. His own kind of message. You didn’t know exactly how to feel, only that your heart was broken, frayed by thoughts that raced faster than you could catch.

After lying there, staring blankly at the wall for what might’ve been hours, you managed to sit up, body aching and sore from each place his hands had traveled. You stepped into the shower, closing your eyes as the hot water hit your shoulders, the places where his fingertips had traced your skin. You felt sadder than you wanted to admit as the water washed away his touch, erased his kisses—but somehow, you also needed this; needed to cleanse away the confusion he’d left behind. The way your heart twisted told you everything: that after years of loving him quietly, of wondering if you were foolish for feeling this way, you’d finally seen it in his eyes. It was undeniable, the way he looked at you. Dark, intent, and carrying something that had always been just out of reach. But there was something else there, something heavy that you still didn’t understand, as if he were as conflicted as you.

For the rest of the day, you collapsed onto the couch, letting the TV drone on without paying attention to any of it. You didn’t see Joel or Sarah, didn’t even think about glancing out the window, afraid he might be there.

Sunday. You woke up early and walked the neighborhood, hoping you wouldn’t cross paths with him. You had no idea what to say, and you weren’t ready to hear anything he might want to say to you. Joel wasn’t sentimental, and you knew this situation would be far from easy for him, as well. When you returned, you rounded the block and entered through the back door to avoid even the sight of his house. You spent the rest of the day tearing through closets, dusting shelves, filling bags with clothes and objects to donate. Anything to keep busy, to drown out the echo of his absence. When you reached the hall, you noticed a picture hanging askew—a memory of your best friend pushing you playfully against the wall. You straightened it, feeling the weight of that simpler time.

Monday. Work, mercifully, absorbed you the whole morning. Manuscripts stacked on your desk piled up, five drafts to review before the week’s end. At lunch, you let yourself get caught up in the interns’ gossip, grateful for the distraction of someone else’s drama: an assistant had apparently thrown a scene in the kitchen. For those few minutes, you were somewhere else entirely.

When you got home, exhaustion caught up to you in a wave, and you napped for hours, hoping to sleep off the ache. You buried yourself in work for the rest of the evening until finally crawling into bed. Even though the hours of sleep should’ve soothed you, the headache stayed, an insistent reminder that you couldn’t keep avoiding the thoughts that waited just beneath the surface.

Tuesday. Work was just a blur of the usual. A steady hum, a low buzz of screens and staplers and muffled voices. Then your boss leaned out of her office door, gave you a quick look, and said you could take off two hours early if you wanted. No explanation. You gave her a polite nod of thanks and were out of there before she could change her mind.

When you got home, you stood in the shower for an eternity, letting the water pour over you, but your mind kept circling back to Joel. The ache of it pressed on you, and you felt almost embarrassed by how deeply it stung. Why did it always come back to this?

Out of the shower, you wrapped your hair in a towel, looked up at your own face in the mirror. The eyes staring back seemed hollow, that same expression you’d worn on Saturday—worn thin and tired, as if all the energy you’d stored up was suddenly gone.

You knew you had to do something. Sitting around was unbearable. A surge of restlessness spurred you forward. You changed into workout clothes, slid your headphones on, set a playlist going. The music buzzed in your ears as you left, footsteps echoing on the stairs, mind already reaching for the rush that would come when you pushed yourself hard, sprinting until everything in you felt like liquid fire.

You’d barely opened the front door when you stopped short. Sarah was there, one hand raised to knock, her backpack slung over her shoulder, her hair falling in loose, carefree waves. She looked up, surprised, but her face split into a grin, and at the sight of her, something warm unfurled in your chest.

“Can I stay for a while? Dad’s working late again,” she said, and you felt the familiar twinge at the mention of him— Dad.

“Of course.” You stepped back, pulling the door open wide, stretching your arms out for a hug, which she slipped into immediately, her hands resting lightly on your back.

“Were you going somewhere?” she asked, tossing her backpack to the floor and heading straight for the couch. She plopped down, her hair bouncing as she did, and looked at you with that expectant smile, as if she’d just brought a bit of sunlight into the room with her.

“Just a run.” You wave it off, but there’s something in your voice—she tilts her head, gives you a curious look. “I was bored, that’s all,” you add, softer.

"Ah,” Sarah murmured, letting the sound stretch and float between you. "It’s a nice day, a perfect day for a run.”

“It is," you agreed, the words soft, casual, "but it’s even nicer now that you’re here.” You couldn’t help smiling as you lowered yourself onto the couch beside her, picking up the remote and flipping on the TV. You laughed under your breath when My Best Friend’s Wedding appeared on the screen, as if fate itself were nudging you, teasing you with its sense of irony.

Sarah didn’t miss a beat, slipping her arms around your waist and nestling her head against your right arm, curling into you in the way she always did. The warmth of her comfort settled over you.

“What happened between you and Dad?” Her voice was quiet, the kind of softness that demands honesty. You looked down, meeting her open gaze, and your heart clenched—how could you explain something you hadn’t yet pieced together yourself?

“Nothing,” you murmured, trying to keep your tone light. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged but kept her head resting on you, her voice low, musing. “I don’t know… I haven’t seen you since his birthday.” She toyed with the hem of her sleeve, eyes downcast, like she was searching her memory. “And last night, when we ordered pizza, I told him I wanted to see you. He said no, that you were probably tired, but I told him you always come, even when you’re tired.” She glanced up at you, lips curling with a faint, sad smile. “Then he just told me to drop it, and I could tell he was in one of his moods. You know him.”

Each word pierced you, gentle pinpricks you could feel sinking in. Joel was shutting you out too, it seemed, yet you were beginning to accept that as inevitable.

“I really was tired,” you lied, hating the sound of it even as it left your lips. “Yesterday was long. You know how much I read every day?” She nodded, that same wide-eyed curiosity looking up at you. “Well, yesterday was one of those days I could hardly see straight. When I got home, all I wanted to do was sleep.”

“Oh, right,” she replied, and you felt her cheeks lift against your arm, her smile warm and trusting. “Well, I was just gonna ask you to help with my homework. Have you ever read Poe?”

A chuckle escaped, breaking the tension. “Yes, I’ve read Poe.”

She pulled back a little, her eyes gleaming. “Are you tired now?”

“No.” You shifted up straighter, meeting her gaze with a small nod. “Come on, let’s get comfortable at the table.”

Soon, you were placing a steaming cup of cocoa and a plate of cookies in front of her, the familiar ritual setting in, grounding you both. You sat beside her, ready to dive into the morbid worlds of *The Black Cat* and *The Tell-Tale Heart,* classic Poe to whet a young mind. She didn’t need your help—you knew that. Sarah was bright, quick; it was more the routine of sitting together in the kitchen, tracing the dark, winding paths of literature, that you both cherished. Sometimes she’d even ask for math help, which was the last thing you were qualified for. Literary theory? Of course; Atiyah's geometry? Forget it.

At seven, the kitchen was dim, the soft click of the clock marking the evening. There was still no sign of Joel. You watched from the living room window, your breath creating small fogged circles on the cold glass. Sarah had drifted to sleep, limbs splayed out on the couch, her bare feet poking over the edge. After homework, she’d switched to a documentary about whales and somewhere along the way, gentle little snores had taken over. You, meanwhile, were skimming through an article on your phone about a woman from Nigeria with the world’s largest wig, lost in a rabbit hole of Guinness World Records—another one of your distractions to keep from thinking about the ache lodged firmly where thoughts of Joel tended to linger.

Then, you heard it: the low rumble of Joel’s truck. You didn’t need to see him to know. You could recognize it anywhere, the steady approach, the engine growling over the pavement. For a moment, you stayed frozen, staring blankly at the phone in your hands, the words blurring together. You were just waiting—knowing that any moment, he’d come knocking at your door. Because that’s exactly what he would do.

Joel would enter his house with that familiar, end-of-the-day exhaustion weighing down his steps. His shoulders would drop, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Sarah!” he would call out, but the house would echo back only silence. A quiet that felt too deep, too empty. He’d stand in the middle of the hallway, pausing, absorbing the emptiness for a beat, then walk to her room and crack open the door just enough to check her bed. The unmade sheets and abandoned books would confirm what he already suspected: she was at your place, just as she always was when he was running late.

With a soft sigh, he would turn and head downstairs, the familiar creaks of the house echoing around him. And as he moves toward your door, he’d feel the tension in his back, muscles tight and weary from the day. He’d roll his head in a way that sent a dull ring through his neck, feeling the tendons pull, listening to the slight pop of his vertebrae—an old habit that usually helped him settle. But tonight, it did little to ease the tension running through him. Then, as he gets closer, he-

Knock, knock—two sharp sounds that broke through the quiet of the evening. You looked up from your phone, startled from your reverie, the light of the screen dimming in your periphery. Sarah was curled up beside you, blissfully unaware, her breathing steady and peaceful.

“Sarah,” you whispered, reaching out gently, fingers brushing her shoulder. You called her name softly a couple of times, but she merely rolled over, a sleepy mumble escaping her lips—a mix of protest and the remnants of dreams still clinging to her.

Knock, knock. Again, insistent, echoing through the room.

This time, you stood up, feeling an unsteady flutter in your stomach as you made your way to the door. You inhaled sharply, letting a sigh escape, your body tensing involuntarily with each step. There it was again—that heaviness, low and unsettling, growing with every inch you closed toward him.

As your hand wrapped around the cool metal of the doorknob, you found yourself hesitating, fingers pressed into it but unmoving, as if the door itself had grown an invisible weight.

Be. Fucking. Strong. You took a slow breath, steadied your grip, a final reminder for yourself. Maybe, just maybe, Joel was feeling the same tightness, the same knot of uncertainty in his chest. You let yourself imagine that possibility, just long enough to give you the courage to turn the knob and let him in.

In one swift, impulsive movement, you flung the door open, and there he was. Joel. Standing there as if time itself had stilled, his gaze locked onto yours. It was the first time you'd seen him since that night. Your heart lurched at the sight of him, the familiar lines of his face, the small furrow between his brows, and maybe—just maybe—a slight tremor at one eyebrow as if he was bracing himself, too.

“Sarah’s here,” you said, quickly, your voice sharper than you’d intended, as though saying it fast enough might keep him from asking first.

“I assumed so,” he replied, glancing briefly into your house, his tone measured, careful. “Is she asleep?”

You nodded, stepping back just enough to signal he could come in. He hesitated for a beat, then crossed the threshold. As he passed, his arm brushed yours, a fleeting contact that sent a surge through you—a reminder of all the words you hadn’t said, couldn’t say. It made your heart race, each beat loud in your ears as he moved further into the room.

You watched him approach Sarah, his frame bending down as he placed a hand on her shoulder, voice a low murmur. “Sarah, baby, let’s go home,” he whispered, as if his quiet words might coax her awake. But she only turned her shoulder, a soft groan escaping her, and nestled back into sleep.

He sighed, a sound that spoke of familiarity and resignation. It was a scene he had lived through a hundred times before. Knowing it was useless to waste words trying to wake her, he slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her in one smooth motion. She stirred only slightly as he held her, and you saw the small grimace on his face as he straightened up, her weight adding to his already tired frame.

You stayed in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed, a faint shield against whatever unspoken things might spill out of him. The sight of him in your space stirred a confusion of emotions—anger, frustration, an ache edged with sadness. Joel had been pulling away, barely looking you in the eye; Joel was acting as if you were strangers or as if nothing had ever happened between you. Joel was a—

“Thanks for watching her,” he said, his voice low as he walked past you, his eyes averted, as though speaking to the floor. He held Sarah protectively, her feet swinging softly past you, careful not to let her brush against you.

Something about his words made your stomach twist. He was speaking to you like you’d done something extraordinary, some rare act of kindness, as if this wasn’t something you did all the time. It was ridiculous. Sarah spent half her days here, half her nights, and he was thanking you now, like you were a kind neighbor who’d offered to babysit for the first time or some shit like that.

You didn’t respond, feeling the words trapped in your throat, unwilling to form. Instead, you walked him to the door, waiting as he stepped over the threshold. Your hand found the doorknob, ready to close it as soon as he left.

But he stopped. He turned back, and for a moment, his eyes met yours with a rare intensity. His expression shifted—there was something else there, something that looked like it was on the verge of spilling over. You waited, holding his gaze, a silent impatience building in you, daring him to say whatever was lodged inside him.

“Good night,” he said at last, flat and simple, letting the words fall like stones between you.

Before he could wait for a response, you slammed the door shut, perhaps with a bit too much force. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care at all. He could stand there in the hallway, speechless, for all you cared. The way he had looked at you, his voice so flat and distant—like you were nothing more than neighbors exchanging small talk—made your chest feel hollow. As if you hadn't spent the last four years glued to each other, inseparable, as if he hadn’t been completely entangled with you, entirely and recently. Joel could go fuck himself.

With your heart still aching, you walked to your bedroom and changed into pajamas, too upset to think about eating. You crawled under the covers, letting the silence settle around you, picking up the remote and flicking through channels until you found a rerun of one of those bizarre home and health shows. On the screen, a woman was recounting a story that seemed almost surreal: she had given birth to a baby alone in her bathroom after a shower, completely unaware she’d been pregnant. No anesthesia, no doctor, just a child falling into her hands, catching her by surprise.

Unbelievable, you thought, entranced, the human body is astounding.

By the time the second episode started, your mind had drifted away from Joel, and all you could feel was hunger, sharp and insistent. The grumble in your stomach left you with no choice but to get out of bed. You tossed back the sheets and slipped your feet into the pom-pom slippers Joel had given you last Christmas. Fucking Joel, you thought, but they were soft, comfortable, and warm, and they carried you to the kitchen with a small feeling of comfort despite everything.

You made yourself a ham and cheese sandwich, humming a song you’d been listening to earlier that evening, right before Sarah knocked on your door. You poured yourself a glass of water, sat in the gentle glow of the under-cabinet lights, and took a bite. As you ate, your thoughts drifted back to the woman giving birth alone, imagining her shock and fear. If something like that ever happened to you, you thought, you’d probably be completely terrified, unprepared.

Then again, maybe you’d surprise yourself, discovering strength you didn’t know you had.

You shook your head slightly, reassuring yourself that it could never happen. You were meticulous with birth control; it was nearly impossible. After all, it had been a lonely year, with plenty of solitude and very little excitement. Not that you lacked options, but you’d grown comfortable in your independence.

Oh. Joel. You had slept with Joel, hadn’t you? And you hadn’t used a condom, a fact you had almost managed to ignore, until now. The thought gnawed at you.

As you finished your sandwich, you reminded yourself to check that your alarm was set for noon tomorrow—right when you took your birth control every day.

What would it be like, really, to have a baby? You’d never held one close or even spent much time with one, always keeping them at arm’s length, like something fragile you didn’t understand. Growing up an only child, you’d had no younger siblings to fuss over, no little cousins to chase around. None of your friends had children, either—not ones young enough for you to witness the first days, the delicate first few years. Sarah was already eight when you met her, and while you’d watched her grow up since, it wasn’t the same as seeing a baby. A newborn. Someone who came into the world with no words, just endless, vulnerable need.

Knock, knock. The sound jarred you, your heart jumping as you nearly choked on your last bite of sandwich. You looked up, squinting at the clock on the wall. Eleven p.m.

Who could it be at this hour? His name appeared on your mind.

You reached for a paper napkin and wiped your mouth, slowly pushing back from the kitchen counter, your feet moving reluctantly toward the door. Your pulse quickened with each step, and a voice inside you whispered to run upstairs, to pretend you hadn’t heard. But the lights were on. He’d know you were awake; surely, he would.

Peering through the peephole, you felt that sudden jolt all over again. Joel was there. Standing in the yellowish glow of the hallway lights, looking down at the floor with one hand absently scratching his chin. For a moment, you watched him like that, as if observing from far away, taking in the unguarded heaviness of his expression. It softened something in you, even as your mind told you to hold your ground.

Finally, you turned the lock and opened the door, just a sliver at first, easing it open slowly until you were half visible. His gaze lifted the moment he saw you, his body straightening, hands falling to his sides. There was something unmistakably nervous in his stance, a sense that he’d already doubted coming here but had decided it was too late to turn back.

He said your name in a whisper, as if startled to see you standing right there in your own doorway, his voice almost swallowed by the silence around you both. Then he took a step forward, his hand lifting slightly as if he’d reach out.

You stayed frozen in place, your heart loud in your ears.

“Were you in bed?” he asked, almost sheepishly, the corners of his mouth pulling up slightly as if he wasn’t sure he should be there.

“No, I…” You hesitated, glancing briefly over his shoulder like you were expecting someone to jump out and catch you doing something wrong. “I was just eating something.”

Joel nodded, his eyes darting over your shoulder, taking in the familiar space inside your home, then flicking back to you, then to the doorway again. You could tell he wanted to come in, but he looked uncertain, almost nervous.

“Did something happen?” you asked, your voice coming out a little louder than intended.

“No, no,” he replied quickly. “Sarah just… she forgot her backpack, that’s all.” That’s all. The words sounded small.

You nodded, feeling a slight warmth creep into your cheeks, a forced smile stretching across your lips.

“I’ll grab it for you,” you said, hoping you sounded polite and unaffected. You closed the door nearly all the way, leaving only a thin sliver between you and the hallway, and hurried to where Sarah’s backpack and shoes sat beside the couch.

You grabbed her things hastily, inhaling sharply as you bent down, determined to hand them over and end this interaction on a courteous note, the way he’d left things with you earlier that evening.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered as you stood back up, a hand pressed to your chest. He’d somehow slipped inside and was standing right in front of you, eyes steady but unreadable, mouth set in a straight line. “You scared me to death.”

He glanced around your living room, slowly, buying time. He looked back at you, but this time his eyes were softer, a hint of something deeper lingering there.

“Can we talk?” he asked, and your heart leapt, relief breaking through your careful composure.

You placed Sarah’s things back on the floor, feeling the weight of this moment settle over you, and then sank onto the couch. You didn’t say anything, but you glanced toward the seat beside you, silently inviting him to join you. Joel sat heavily, elbows on his knees, staring down as though the floor itself held the answers to questions he couldn’t voice. His silence felt endless, stretching out between you until you finally broke it.

“What do you want to talk about?” you asked, your voice almost too casual, as if you weren’t bracing yourself for the answer.

What was there even to talk about? The weather?

He exhaled, his voice almost too low to hear.

“About what happened. I… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He straightened his back but still didn’t meet your eyes.

“Sorry about what?” you asked, your own voice coming out softer than you’d intended, colored by a hurt you couldn’t hide. “For sleeping with me, or for disappearing in the morning?”

The flash of hurt in your tone seemed to hit him hard, his head dropping even lower. He turned toward you, his gaze sweeping across your face, as though trying to memorize the hurt he’d caused.

“Everything,” he said at last, voice thick with regret. “For messing it all up, for not coming to talk to you sooner.” He looked away again, his hand resting on the back of his neck, and his eyes drifting down, unable to hold yours.

Your body felt tight with nerves, and you nodded, though it was barely a nod at all.

“Why did you leave?” you asked, almost a whisper.

He looked like he was searching for the right words, for something that would undo the damage, something that wouldn’t hurt you more.

“I panicked. I woke up and saw you next to me, and it all rushed back—everything. I couldn’t handle it, and Sarah was going to wake up soon, and I just… I just left.”

“You could have at least told me,” you murmured, your voice strained. “Do you have any idea how that felt?”

He turned fully to face you, his eyes dark and full of something you loved, but now it looked almost foreign.

“I know. I hate myself for making you feel that way. I can’t forgive myself for that.” He shook his head slowly, as though to emphasize the depth of his regret. “I messed up. I messed everything up.”

“Then be clearer, Joel.” Your voice cracked on his name, and you hated how fragile it sounded.

He ran a hand over his chin, staring at you with an expression that was unreadable but intense, his fingers pressing into the stubble on his jaw. He exhaled, licking his lips, and it was as if the words were something he’d been rehearsing, something he’d said to himself over and over but couldn’t say until now.

“I lied to you. And then I acted like an asshole when you found out,” he said, the words halting and heavy. “I’m sorry. I felt cornered when you found out about Sienna, and i reacted defensively.” The name slipped out reluctantly, and you felt a sharp pang at the sound of it. “I felt weird, and I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I know this is my fault—all of it is. If I’d just left when you asked me to... God, you asked me so many times. If I had left, none of this would have happened.” He shook his head, almost in disbelief at himself. “But I didn’t. And I ruined it.”

Sienna. The name hung in the air, thickening the silence between you. It sat heavy in your chest, like a stone. You tried to picture her, tried to put a face to the name, but the image wouldn’t come; your mind was racing too fast.

A warmth crept down your spine as Joel’s words landed, heavy, final. You sat with the silence for a moment, like you were stealing a few extra seconds from time to filter through what he’d just said, to let the meaning sift in slowly. He regretted it—this, everything. That was why he’d left in the morning, why he’d ignored you for days, why he couldn’t hold your gaze now. His eyes stayed down, fixed on the floor, while yours were betraying you, welling up without permission.

“You ruined it,” you whispered, echoing his words more to yourself than to him, taking them in and feeling their weight. But Joel must’ve thought you meant it, that you agreed with his confession. He winced slightly, like he’d been stung. “You regret it. Now what?”

He swallowed, his eyes still cast down.

“Now, now I don’t know,” he muttered. It sounded like a confession, like the last thing he wanted to admit. “But we have to fix it somehow.”

Fix it. Joel had always fixed things; it was almost second nature to him. Floors, windows, cabinets, the bench in your backyard that he’d broken one night when he stood on it, laughing, doing something you couldn’t even remember now. Joel fixed anything broken or cracked or worn down, anything that wasn’t how it should be. And now, that’s what he thought you were—something to be mended.

Your throat tightened, and you felt your eyes sting as a tear escaped, soft and warm on your cheek.

“Do you want us to pretend nothing happened?” you asked, your voice low but clear, cutting through the heaviness in the air.

“No,” he said, looking up quickly, like he was startled by the idea. When he saw your face, his brow twitched in concern. “No. But we can work it out; I know we can. We have to.”

You laughed, short and sharp, a hollow sound that escaped before you could think. You shook your head, as the irony hit you—how he thought he could repair something like this, as if he could slot you both back together seamlessly, like nothing was shattered, like no pieces were missing.

“How, Joel?” you asked, your voice tinged with exasperation, though your lips held a half-smile—an odd defense that barely softened the ache. “How am I supposed to act as if this never happened?”

He clasped his hands, his fingers moving restlessly against each other as he took in your words, his face an irritating calm that made you feel exposed, like you were some unpredictable force he needed to steady. When he finally spoke, his voice softened, though there was a tiny thread of frustration just barely visible.

“I’m not asking you to pretend or act, not at all,” he said, and the slight waver in his voice hinted at some urgency he was struggling to mask. “I just… we’re adults, you know? And sometimes things get messy. It doesn’t make it… doesn’t mean it was meant to be. It was just a mistake. That’s not who we are, you and I.”

“A mistake?” you echoed, his words heavy on your tongue, repeating them to see if they would settle into meaning. But they felt as alien as they sounded, and Joel could see it. He shook his head gently, almost admonishing, catching the resistance etched across your face.

“Yes, a mistake,” he replied, almost chiding, and then he sank forward, his head resting in his hands. His eyes closed, and you couldn't tell , but he was replaying some private memory; you didn’t know how often he’d been revisiting it in his mind—how his thoughts had kept catching on the feel of your skin, the taste of you, the soft pull of your fingers in his hair, the unmistakable sense of being surrounded by you: tight, warm, everywhere. Too much. It was a memory he couldn’t shake, and one that, in his mind, he had to. It was a torture that needed to stop.

He drew in a deep breath and looked up. “We can’t go there, not you and me. That’s not us.”

You leaned forward, heart pounding, voice edged with something sharper than before.

“A mistake?” you repeated, but this time louder, any hint of softness dissolving as it turned to raw anger. “What the hell, Joel?”

“That’s exactly what it was,” he started, his voice tentative, as if he were trying to convince you of something you didn’t want to believe. “We were arguing, a little drunk, and in the heat of the moment, things just… got out of hand—”

“Stop it.” Your interruption came out firm, a sharp edge cutting through the air between you. Joel froze, his gaze locking onto yours, as if you had just thrown a switch. “You know perfectly well that’s not what happened. If I remember correctly, we barely finished a bottle of wine, and you need a lot more than that to get drunk, don’t you?”

“I was mad,” he insisted, his voice rising slightly, a mix of defensiveness and frustration swirling in his tone. “I was angry, and you were teasing me with all those—”

“Bullshit.” The word slipped out with a fierceness that surprised even you. You shifted closer, locking your gaze onto his, making it impossible for him to look away. “We both know what happened wasn’t just a result of some drunken argument. You were angry, yes, and so was I, but it was still you and me.”

Joel shook his head slowly, exasperation spilling from him like a tide. He scrubbed his face with both hands, a gesture of weariness that spoke volumes about the struggle playing out in his mind.

“So what do you want me to tell you then?” he blurted, his frustration breaking through the surface, his voice loud enough to echo in your ears. “That I got carried away? That I completely screwed up and regret everything?”

At that, you felt a jolt of emotion surge through you. You sprang up from the couch, taking several steps back as if creating distance could shield you from the reality of what he was saying. You turned away, unable to hide the tears that had begun their silent descent down your cheeks. The worst suspicions you had harbored were confirmed; he was sorry, miserable at the thought of having touched you, and that thought cut deeper than you expected.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, the words sharp and raw as you wiped your face with the sleeve of your pajamas. It was a pitiful gesture, but it felt like the only way to wipe away the emotional mess he had stirred up inside you. “Fuck off and leave me alone.”

“No,” he blurted out, the word escaping him almost like a plea. He sprang from his seat, crossing the space between you in just a few strides, desperation etched into the lines of his face. “Please, sunshine, please, we can fix this. We just need to talk it out and give it a little time—”

“Don’t ever call me that again.” The demand tumbled from your lips, cutting through the air with an urgency that surprised even you. You saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes, how your words landed like stones against his heart. “Don’t ever call me that again, Joel. I don’t want to listen to you. I can’t pretend this has a solution because, honestly, I don’t feel like there is one. You don't realize what's going on, do you? Or you're just too stubborn to do it, as usual, Joel, you're always so fucking stubborn about everything.”

“What do you want me to do?” His voice strained, as if he were grasping at straws, desperate for a lifeline.

“Nothing!” The word burst from you, frustration boiling over until it turned into a sob you wished you could swallow back. The tears threatened to overflow, blurring your vision and your resolve.

“Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it. I—”

“Stop it, Joel.”

He reached out, his hand hovering in the air between you like a promise hanging unfulfilled. But you took a quick step back, your back hitting the wall with a thud that echoed in the silence, an absurd reminder of how trapped you felt in this moment.

What did you want him to do? To turn back time; not to leave your bed, to reciprocate for at least a few minutes more, to pretend it was okay, to lie to you at least. But that wasn't possible, and suddenly, the quiet sturdy house you had lived in all these years, hiding your feelings for your own good, had now collapsed.

Joel stared at you for a few seconds, his silence stretching between you like a taut wire ready to snap. You could see the shift in his expression, the way it softened and crumbled, no longer the confident facade he usually wore. Instead, he looked downcast, a man weighed down by burdens that felt alien to you, yet you could sense the depth of his struggle. Or so you thought.

Then, your name slipped from his lips like a broken prayer, fragile and desperate.

“I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you,” he implored, his voice wavering with an urgency that made your heart twist. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Please listen to me, just for one more moment.”

In that instant, his words pierced through your defenses, sinking deep into your chest and igniting a flicker of hope. For a heartbeat, you were on the verge of rushing to him, promising that everything would be okay, that you could forget the hurt and revert to the easy laughter and shared secrets of before. You could stash away all your feelings, pack them neatly into boxes, and hide them away forever just to keep him close. But reality loomed over you like a storm cloud, and you knew that was no longer an option; everything had irrevocably shifted. You couldn't bear to look at him without feeling the sharp sting of heartbreak.

Swallowing hard, you tasted the salt of your tears, and it burned your throat like an unwelcome reminder of the turmoil within.

“I’m not sure I can be your friend anymore, Joel,” you confessed, your voice shaking with the weight of your admission.

He shook his head, disbelief flashing across his features as a weak smile broke through the hurt. It was as if he couldn’t quite fathom the words that had just escaped you.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” you asserted, each syllable a battle against the rawness in your chest.

“No, you don’t,” he countered, stepping back just inches, his tone laced with incredulity. The mocking sneer that crept onto his face felt more like a mask than a reflection of his true feelings, and yet, the moisture pooling in his eyes betrayed the battle raging within him.

You regarded him in silence, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken words as you watched his smile fade into something that was almost painful. It twisted his features, morphing into a look of discomfort that hung between you like an unsaid apology. He remained still, his gaze locked onto yours, waiting for you to break the tension with a word or a gesture. The sight of him like that burned inside you, igniting a longing to rewind time, to swallow your questions, to let him live his life free from the weight of your curiosity and the tangled feelings that had blossomed between you. But that wasn’t an option; the reality of your situation loomed large and unavoidable. You had to confront the truth: he didn’t feel the same way about you, and for him, sleeping with you felt like a transgression, a sin, a burden he couldn’t carry.

“Joel, please,” you began, your voice cracking under the pressure of your emotions. A tear slipped down your cheek, salty and bitter, tasting of the anguish that your words carried. “I can’t be your friend anymore. I can’t do this. I’m sorry, I really am, but you’re breaking my—” You hesitated, swallowing hard against the swell of grief that threatened to overwhelm you. “I think this is over.”

His eyes darted between yours, searching for the meaning behind your confession, as if trying to decode the gravity of your words. A flicker of something—perhaps understanding or denial—crossed his face before a semblance of a smile returned, albeit a strained one. He nodded gently, his gaze dropping to the floor, avoiding your eyes as if he were trying to hide from the truth that hung in the air between you.

In that moment, an overwhelming impulse surged within you—a fierce desire to bridge the chasm that had opened between you, to run to him, to tangle your fingers in his hair, to pull him close and make everything right again. You wanted to erase the pain, to heal the wounds that you both had inflicted.

But you didn't. You held back in silence waiting for him to move first. And when he looked up and fixed his eyes for the last time on you, you knew you were right: nothing would ever be the same, ever again, for when he turned on his heel and finally left without another word, your whole world fell at your feet. It was over.

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @cosmic006533-blog @doblasftcisco @maiyart @concrete-jungleeee @playboygirlsnextdoor00 @maryfanson @rosebuds-and-moonlight @the-universe-is-complicated @formulafun @chewie-bars @glizzymcguirex @pedroswife69 @ivoryandflame @dixonswingz @sarahhxx03 @mellymbee @dailyobsession @msmorningstaarr @mystickittytaco @xxreginaxx @marellabyr @spacegirl-3 @alrihhty @heheheilovepedro @svrgs-blog @94namkooksworld @puddles221b

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fic #tlou hbo #tlou joel #capuccinodoll #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro joel #tlou #dbf!joel

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caramelkoo · 2 months ago

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warm as you

pairing : Jungkook x reader

genre : established relationship, boyfriend jungkook yayyy.

summary : Jungkook gives you a little surprise which causes you to fall more in love with him.

warnings : Jungkook is nervous as hell, he's so in love with the oc, oc can't help but baby him, slight smut, fluff, lots of kissing <3, act of service and quality time as love languages.

a/n : hey angels, I saw the latest episode of "are you sure?!" and couldn't help but write this little piece. Jungkook is such a roundie. I hope you enjoy and let me know how you like it. xoxo.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

To be very honest, you've never been a morning person but when you're with the love of your life, your boyfriend, you can't help but eagerly wait to sleep next to him and wakeup next to him. He has a way of waking you up with kisses on your smooth skin and fingers through your brown locks.

Your eyes want to flutter open but you know once you're awake, he will stop and that's something you don't want. Jungkook's lips graze yours lightly causing you to break into a slight smile. His lips peck your forehead gently following with your cheekbones, your closed eyes, your nose, your chin and lastly the hollow of your neck.

"I love you, sweetie. Good morning, i know you're awake." he whispers and much to your surprise, he knows you've been pretending to sleep.

you chuckle and open your eyes, looking at him with so much love. His eyes sparkle like stars above you. No one has loved you like this and honestly, you don't want anybody else to do so. The bond that you share with your boyfriend is different and special.

"Morning"

He caresses your left cheekbone, a lazy smile on his face. It's soft and everything pure.

"What do you wanna do today?" you ask him.

"Is wanting to be in your arms an option?" he nuzzles his face in your boobs. Purring like a cat.

"I don't think that's a bad idea" your hands rub his back up and down, up and down.

"God, I love hugging you. You're so warm, so cozy. It's my own personal heaven" Jungkook puts his whole weight on you, being careful now to crush you in the process.

He makes you feel safe, protected whenever he wraps his arms around you. Being physically affectionate has not been hard for you when it came to him. Physical touch, as much as you hate to admit, is hard for you to receive. You've been uncomfortable with people touching you plenty of times but with Jungkook, it has never been the case. You don't know why but he's had a certain warmth to him ever since you met him. It radiates and lights you up.

"I know, baby. I love hugging you too."

You both stay like this for a while before he grunts and lifts his face from your neck.

"Want me to make you some coffee?" he asks because he knows you can't function throughout your whole day without starting it off with a cup of coffee.

One thing about Jungkook is he's going to notice. He notices the tiniest of things and he's made a mental note of making you coffee every morning just the way you like it.

"Yes, please. I want something sweet to go with it too."

"Pancakes?"

"Perfect. You're the best" you kiss his cheek twice before he gets himself up and walk outside towards the kitchen. Before he opens the door, you call him out.

"Yeah, sweetie?" he looks back, shirtless and you try not to say something entirely different and nasty.

"I love you, too" his lips turn upwards before he leaves the room.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

After you and Jungkook finish your breakfast, he suggests reading together in the hall. Since it's a slow Sunday morning and you both have nothing else to do, you agree. Quality time with him is another thing you cherish the most. He knows that when it comes to receiving, it's one of your preferred love languages.

Since the day you let him know this tiny piece of information, he has tried his best to make it happen for you. Reading, baking, pottery classes, trying out new recipes, even letting you do his makeup, he has done it all.

"What are you reading?" Jungkook asks after picking up a book for himself and sitting beside you on the couch.

"I have been wanting to read this romance book for a while. You're reading thriller again?"

"You know it's my favorite" indeed it is. The thriller section on the bookshelf gives it away.

For the next twenty minutes or so, you both read quietly. Jungkook eventually puts his head on your lap demanding your hands in his hair. You chuckle lightly before giving in and run your fingers through it.

"Your hairs are so soft"

When you look down upon him, he has closed his eyes and gotten rid of the book.

"It's your shampoo"

"My shampoo? You've been using my shampoo?" you're a little surprised but not offended. On the contrary, you find it a little cute.

"Sweetie, it smells like vanilla and I was planning on using it just once but then I got a little obsessed. Couldn't help it." he whines.

"You're adorable, you know that?"

the hall gets filled with your laughter. You continue running your fingers through his hair while also reading your book and just when you think he has gone into a deep slumber, he gets up walking towards the washroom.

"Wh- WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" you yell behind him.

"GIVE ME A MINUTE" he yells back. He didn't go in there to jerk off, did he? you decide to leave him be and resume your reading.

Fifteen minutes later though when he comes outside and stands before you, you let out the biggest scream ever. It startles him.

"Is it that bad?"

"Jungkoo-", "what-", "I'm-"

He stands there with his long hair no more on his head, instead he has cut his hair in more of like a bowl cut. Yes, you screamed but not because you don't like his hair, it was because he looks cuter than ever like this. You were just a little surprised, that's about it.

"Seriously, is it that bad?" the nervous look on his face causes you to take few steps forward and hug him so tightly you're not sure if he can even breathe. His arms wrap around you in return. Hugging you has always calmed him.

"I love it"

"What was that, sweetie?"

"I said, I love it" you tell him again. You break the hug and look at him.

"Really?" his expression has turned into a an excited one now.

"Yes, baby. It makes you look so cute but can I ask why? why did you suddenly decide to cut your hair?" you can't help but touch his new hair.

"To be honest, I have been thinking about chopping them off for a while. I know you love my long hair so it was holding me back." he places a kiss on your temple. "I wasn't sure if you would like it."

"Jungkook, I loved your long hair but I wouldn't ever stop you from doing what you want. I love everything you love and you can always grow them back, right?" you smile up at him.

You loved his long hair a little too much. You had asked him to let his hair grow further and he had happily agreed to but you would rather poke your eyeballs out before you refrain him from doing something he has wanted to for a long time. You're just a little upset due to the fact that he even had to be nervous before doing so.

Jungkook nods, "Right. So you like them?"

"Absolutely" you kiss his nose.

"God, I could eat you right now." He hides his face in the crook of your neck and groans.

"Hmm, maybe later".

Later that night when you lay next to him he doesn't let you sleep before he buries his tongue inside you and asks you to grab his hair. When you do, you get reminded of his long hair but his tongue moving in a circular motion inside you makes you forget about it all. You moan, you scream and when he takes your nipples in his mouth while pushing two fingers inside you, you come so hard you're sure you see stars. You hear him whisper "You're mine" before you pass out hoping he'll wake you up the next morning again with his kisses and touches.

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #bts x reader #jungkook imagine #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts jungkook

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roosterforme · 4 months ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After the perfect weekend, three days without Bradley is harder than you could have ever imagined. It makes you think about what it will be like when you have to go months without each other. When he visits your classroom for the second time, your students make him feel welcome as they come up with an amazing idea.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, unprotected sex, oral sex, smut, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 3600 words

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

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

You were at Bradley's house on Sunday night a lot later than you originally anticipated, but you just couldn't seem to make yourself leave. He kept luring you back to the couch with the promise of one more quick snuggle, and you fell for it every single time.

"I have to get my lesson plans in order for tomorrow," you whispered as you kissed your way along the scars on his cheek from your spot on his lap.

"Bring them with you next time," he murmured, big hands warm on your lower back.

"You wouldn't mind?" You knew what a turnoff it was for your ex whenever you even mentioned your classroom full of kids, so it would have never occurred to you to bring your work with you down to Coronado for the weekend.

Bradley's fingers stroked your bare skin as he said, "Maybe I could help you? I actually like a lot of the same stuff as your fourth graders. Like airplanes and dogs and their teacher."

You snorted with laughter against his neck, but you said, "Next weekend I'll bring my lesson plans with me."

"Excellent," he murmured. "Then you can stay even later."

You knew without a doubt that in a few more weeks, you'd be sleeping over on Sunday night and driving straight to work on Monday morning if he asked you to. How could you not? The entire weekend had been incredible even with Vanessa crashing in on Friday. Being around Bradley felt like something close to magic with the way he talked to you and touched you. Earlier this morning, you sent him out for a run with Natasha, and he came back to you all sweaty and needy. You even got an adorable photo of him stopping to tie his shoe on a bench which his best friend texted you. And after lunch, you took a spider outside for him when he begged you to get rid of it, and he thanked you with at least a hundred kisses.

But now, when you tried to stand up, Bradley pouted and wrapped his arms around you a little tighter. "I'll see you when you come up to my school on Wednesday," you whispered with a smile.

"That's so far away," he groaned, letting his arms go limp at his sides as you wiggled yourself free. "I don't like that at all."

You pressed your lips together to keep the massive, goofy smile that threatened to take over your entire face at bay while you collected your things. Bradley watched your every movement as you said, "It's not like I won't text you some potentially dirty photos and call you just to tell you I love you."

He was on his feet right then and there with a ridiculous looking grin of his own. "Say it again, Gorgeous."

You looked up at him as he closed the distance with three long strides, and you said, "I love you."

It took you another twenty minutes to finish making out with him, and then he carried everything out to your car where you made out a little bit more. You got home really quite late.

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

On Wednesday morning, you made the rookie mistake of telling your kids that a visitor would be spending the afternoon in your classroom, but you were too excited about it to keep quiet.

"Is it Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Violet asked immediately as she bobbed in her seat.

"You'll just have to wait and see," you replied, getting your language arts notes ready to teach.

"Is he bringing his Super Hornet with him?" Harrison practically screamed.

"He can't bring a fighter jet to school," Jayden scoffed. "It would take up too many parking spots."

"I never even said who our special visitor is!" you reminded them as you started writing a few spelling words on the board.

Nia sighed behind you and murmured, "If it's not Lieutenant Bradshaw, then what's the point?"

You had to stifle your laughter, because you didn't disagree. You weren't even sure what he had in store for your kids, but he insisted he was going to need at least two hours with them. When you had questioned him about getting leave from base for the afternoon, he just laughed. "The Navy loves it when we do classroom outreach. I'm sure my commanding officers will all make it a point to thank me for volunteering, so there's no way I'm telling them that I'm visiting my girlfriend's school. But I'm sure they'll catch on by the fourth or fifth time I ask for the afternoon off."

Whenever he used the word girlfriend, you couldn't stop smiling. And the insinuation that he would be visiting multiple times made you giddy. You just had to get through the morning and lunchtime, and then he would be here.

"Spelling words. Let's focus," you told your class. "We can worry about our visitor in a few more hours." But they were already antsy, and they remained that way until you sent them to the lunchroom to cause some havoc without you. That's when you realized that you were antsy, too. How in the world were you already so attached to Bradley that three days apart felt like a week? How were you supposed to do a deployment when the time came? Your heart ached a little bit whenever you thought about spending months away from him.

You picked at your lunch at your desk and checked your phone. Bradley texted you nearly an hour ago to let you know that he was on his way up which prompted you to scroll through some of the photos of him you had saved. "It never gets old," you muttered as you examined the first picture he ever sent you of his face. He looked so tall and handsome on the deck of the aircraft carrier, and you had to stop gawking when your kids came back to the room.

"Is Lieutenant Bradshaw coming soon?" Oliver whined on his way to his desk. "It's taking forever!"

There was no point in denying that he was the special guest, so you just said, "He should be here soon. Practice your spelling words quietly at your desk, okay?"

You walked to your door and peeked out into the hallway. The front office knew he was coming ahead of time today, so there shouldn't be much of a holdup. That's when you saw him. His combat boots squeaked on the floor as he turned the corner, and he ran his fingers through his wavy hair. Each long stride brought him closer to you, and you realized he was holding a large envelope that said CLASSIFIED as well as a coffee from Starbucks in his other hand.

"Gorgeous," he called out when his gaze met yours, and you memorized the way his pace grew quicker so he could get to you. He looked so big and strong in his flight suit, it was unreal. "I missed you," he promised, brown eyes wide and sincere, and then his lips were on yours in the sweetest kiss.

An eruption of voices from inside your classroom started a chorus of, "Oooooh!" as you laughed against your boyfriend's lips.

"She's kissing Lieutenant Bradshaw!" Violet hissed.

"I already told you they're getting married," Jayden insisted.

"I think they might already be married," Nia whispered.

"No, because her name would be Mrs. Lieutenant Bradshaw," Oliver told everyone while Bradley erupted into laughter as well.

"Are you ready for this disaster?" you ask as you nodded toward your open door where eighteen pairs of eyes were staring back at the two of you.

"Absolutely," he rasped. "Nothing like spending an afternoon with all of my pen pals."

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

Bradley followed you to the front of your classroom, fighting the urge to put his hands on your waist and pull you close the entire way. Your kids already saw him kiss you, for the second time. Maybe the third time if some of them witnessed him with his lips all over yours in the parking lot last week. You were holding the coffee he brought for you and glancing back to smile over your shoulder at him, and he had to remind himself not to cause too much of a scene in front of your class.

"What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?" you asked with a smile.

"Thank you!" your students all shouted in unison.

You were smirking at him as you said, "Thanks for visiting us again today, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"I can't seem to stay away," he replied, and when he looked up at the kids sitting at their desks, he realized they were as excited to see him as he was to see them. "I hope you're not sick of me yet."

Violet was shaking her head with her pencil poised over her notebook like she was ready to record everything Bradley said. Henry was halfway onto the top of his desk in anticipation. Jayden shouted out, "No way! You're the coolest adult I ever met!"

Bradley tried to hide his smile, but it was impossible. "You're the eighteen coolest kids I've ever met," he promised. Then he winked at you and said, "And you have a way cooler teacher than I ever had in elementary school." You sipped your coffee happily as he held up the envelope in his hand and said, "I brought a bunch of stuff with me today, including blueprints for some jets that are flown in the Navy. But first, does anyone have any questions they want me to try to answer?"

When one girl's hand shot into the air before the others, he pointed to her and said, "You're Nia, right?"

She nodded as you muttered, "I can't believe you remember who is which kid."

"Yes!" Nia said before pointing from you to Bradley. "Our teacher is really pretty, and we all saw you give her a kiss. Did you marry her?"

Bradley chuckled, and you nearly dropped your drink before ducking away from him. "Uh... not yet, Nia," he told the girl, and her face fell.

"Well, when are you going to?"

Bradley glanced toward Jayden who asked the follow up question and said, "I'm kind of hoping for next summer, but I'll let her decide."

You set the coffee down on your desk and turned to face him with surprise in your eyes. "How about we stay on the topic of aviation?" you asked your class, but your voice sounded soft and breathy. "What's in the classified envelope, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you asked, barely meeting his eyes as you smiled. "Is it really classified?"

Bradley cleared his throat and murmured, "Nah, I just thought it looked cooler." He really wanted to hear your thoughts on his comment about next summer, but that could wait. "But, at one point in time, these blueprints really were classified government property." He emptied the contents out onto Harrison's desk in the row and held up the first blueprint. "Does this look familiar to anyone? I might have sent your teacher a picture of me sitting in the cockpit of this type of jet."

"A Super Hornet!" called Oliver as he bounced in his seat.

"That's right," Bradley told him. "Anyone remember the other name for it?"

When nobody else immediately responded, you said, "It's called the F/A-18. Right?"

"Yeah," he told you with a grin. "That's a gold star and bonus points for the teacher."

You still seemed to be stuck somewhere between surprised and embarrassed, but you returned his smile and asked, "Which other blueprints do you have there?"

Bradley passed around the copy of the F-35 Lightning II before ultimately letting Oliver keep it. "I do recall you saying that flying it would be like slam dunking off the back of a dragon," he said as Oliver's entire face lit up. Then he let everyone look at the blueprints for the EA-18 Growler, the E-2 Hawkeye, and the P-8 Poseidon. There was still a stack in front of him as he said, "There are actually nineteen blueprints here, so everyone can take one home." He quickly swiped the Super Hornet from the pile and walked it over to you. "This one's yours," he told you softly, doing his best to fight the urge to kiss you.

"Cool!" shouted Henry as the blueprints ended up all over the desks. The kids were still examining them loudly as you took the one for the aircraft Bradley flew in your hands.

"Thanks," you whispered, holding it against your chest. "And thanks for coming today."

"Lieutenant Bradshaw?" called Violet. "What happens when one of the aircrafts is broken? Do all the mechanics know how to fix all the airplanes? Or do they only learn how to fix one kind each? And where do they fix them? And did your jet ever need a mechanic?"

"That kid has aviator written all over her," Bradley muttered, letting his fingers brush the side of your hand as he walked toward Violet. "You remember my friend Marty? The mechanic from some of the videos I sent?" When she nodded, Bradley said, "Well, he knows how to fix the Super Hornets and a few other kinds of planes, too. He fixes mine all the time. That's why mechanics get deployed to aircraft carriers just like aviators do. But they also work on base on North Island in San Diego. Where I work most of the time."

Violet looked stunned. "So there are mechanics who fix the planes in San Diego?"

"Yep," Bradley replied as she clutched one of the blueprints in both hands. "In fact, I saw Marty yesterday, fixing part of a combustion chamber in the hangar when I got out of my jet."

Violet squeaked. "Oh, please, Lieutenant Bradshaw. Please, let us go to work with you one day!"

He started laughing as he turned back to look at you, but you just shrugged in response. "I mean, it would be cool," you mused as the rest of your kids chimed in.

"We could see your Super Hornet with your name on the side!"

"We could see all the airplanes!"

"We could talk to Marty!"

"We learned so much about aviation this year! Please?"

Bradley looked around the room and everyone was looking right back at him, waiting for an answer. When he met your eyes, he asked, "Are they allowed to go on a field trip?"

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

When the final dismissal bell rang and your classroom emptied out, you kicked the door closed, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. "Are you serious right now?" you asked with a smile as he pushed you back against the wall and started kissing your neck. "I inquired about taking a field trip to the Naval base ages ago, and everyone essentially told me it's pretty much impossible."

"Mmm," he hummed against your jaw as you pulled him closer. "If you want it, I'll make it happen, Gorgeous."

Your mind was swirling with too much information that didn't all quite make sense but all sounded beautiful nevertheless. "I want it," you whispered. "I want the field trip, and I want you to come back to my place."

He was running the tip of his nose along your ear, and you were slowly melting. "I don't know if I can wait that long. I haven't seen you in three days," he rasped, making you shiver.

"What are you going to do when you're deployed?" you asked him softly, trailing your fingers through his wavy hair.

Bradley groaned. "Baby, we are not talking about that right now."

His deliberate kisses made their way from your neck to your lips, but after a few seconds, you couldn't hold back any longer. You broke the kiss. "Were you serious? About next summer? You and me?"

Bradley's expression was soft as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip and said, "Okay, that we can talk about." Your heart was hammering in your chest as you kissed the side of his thumb. "Gorgeous," he rasped. "Is it really so crazy that I'm convinced we have a future together?"

"No." Your answer was immediate and sincere, because you already knew you felt the same way. "It's not crazy."

He kissed you hard on the lips before taking a step away from you. "Let's get out of here. I'm not going to be able to behave for much longer."

You were all smiles as you added, "And you're going to need to be fed soon."

"See? You already know exactly how to handle me."

Bradley carried your heavy tote bag and travel mug to your car while you held onto the Super Hornet blueprint, and then he followed you back to your apartment in his Bronco. It was almost comical having him there, taking up so much space in each small room, but your smile vanished when he looked you up and down with those pretty brown eyes.

"We should definitely fool around before we eat dinner," you said, and he immediately had you in his arms.

"A hundred percent," he replied, stumbling along to your bedroom. His flight suit was rough against your fingers, but his kisses were soft and sweet. Half of your clothing was off by the time you reached your bed, but he was still trying to pull one of his long sleeves down his arm.

"This is awkward," he mumbled with a laugh as you unhooked your bra. "This fucking flight suit." His movements slowed even more as he watched you drop to your knees in front of him in just your tiny underwear, and you started untying his boots. You looked up at him as you helped him take them off and tossed them aside, and then you pulled his flight suit down to his thighs. "Oh fuck," he whispered, running his fingers along your cheek as you kissed his erection through his briefs.

With his flight suit around his ankles, you looked up at his face and reached for the elastic waistband of his underwear. "Is this okay?" You tugged them down, his cock springing free, and you ran your lips along the tip, waiting for permission to do more.

"Holy shit," he gasped, yanking his undershirt over his head and nodding enthusiastically. "This is never not going to be okay."

You laughed softly before parting your lips and taking the velvety soft head of his cock onto your tongue. Bradley's eyes were glued to your mouth as you swirled your tongue in deliberately slow circles before taking him a little deeper. He was big and thick, but you took him as far as you could over and over, bobbing your head until your eyes watered.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned when you licked at the strands of your saliva dripping down his balls. "Gorgeous. You're filthy." You looked up at him as you rubbed your cheek against his thigh. "And so damn sweet, Baby."

You nuzzled and kissed along his balls, taking his throbbing cock in one hand and giving him a squeeze. Bradley groaned and readjusted his footing, so you did it again. Now he was muttering your name softly and running his fingers along your hair as you sucked on his balls and jerked him off. He let you go for a few minutes, his abs flexing with each labored breath he took, and then you started to suck his cock again.

"Okay, okay," he eventually rasped, reaching for your shoulders and yanking you carefully to your feet. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were parted as you turned away from him and got onto your hands and knees on the bed. He made a strangled noise, but as soon as you glanced back at him, he was on you, pulling your underwear to the side.

"Oh my god," you gasped. His hands were a bit rough on your hips as he started to push himself inside you, and he took you just like that. After a few hard thrusts, you were whining for more, legs shaking with need.

Bradley was babbling as he fucked you, his chest pressed to your back, one big hand stroking down the front of your body to your clit. "You're so fucking tight. Holy shit." He kissed along your shoulder. "You smell so good. I love you, Gorgeous." It sounded like he was lost in you, his voice just behind your ear as he pressed two fingers to your clit until you were panting and coming apart.

Even when you were both spent, he pulled you to your feet while he was still buried deep, and you were slightly dizzy from your receding orgasm. His lips were soft on your neck, and he held you to his chest with his big hands on your body. "If you want a North Island field trip for your class, I'll get right on making it happen first thing tomorrow morning."

You melted against him and whispered, "We're not talking about tomorrow yet. Not when I get to spend the whole night with you first. Let's go make dinner." His stomach growled in response, and you kissed him and said, "I love you."

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

This is every kid's dream field trip! I'm actually a little jealous! Bradley better be able to make this happen for his pen pals. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 15

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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago

Note

Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his gn s/o telling him that they can't sleep in the same bed as him because they will cling onto him like a koala bear in their sleep?

Sunday: ‘all the more reason for me to keep you close.’ He says smiling as he pulls you into bed with him.

And he wasn’t joking when he says this because then he’ll know that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon without his knowledge, seeing as how all he had to do was open his eyes and you’d be there, clinging onto him very much like you said you would.

He’ll also use it as an excuse to watch over you as you slept, something he doesn’t find weird or creepy as he expects lovers to watch one another in their most vulnerable states.

It’s for your own protection he swears but then why did it feel controlling?

(You never speak up about this out of a deep guttural feeling that you should wait to see how this all plays out, he couldn’t keep this character up forever. You love him but…something didn’t feel quite right but you were more than willing to play ignorant for the time being.)

Sunday finds this information to be adorable and utterly sweet.

However in private he wonders to himself, more specifically about who could’ve possibly told you that clinging onto your loved one during the night was anything other than prof of your love but just in a different form, and ways he could go about proving them wrong in a thousand different ways.

Until then he’ll indulge you in anything and everything to prove that there was no one out there that could compare to him as a lover.

Welt: ‘there’s no need to feel embarrassed, if anything I’d be more than honoured.’

Welt loves the honesty and trust you have to confine such information about yourself to him in confidence.

It’s a reminder of the strong foundations of your relationship, however he couldn’t help but find it cute that you’d ever think he’d be annoyed at the prospect of being cuddled at night.

If anything it makes him love you all the more if that was even possible.

He won’t pressure you into sharing a bed with him but he’d be more than happy if you felt comfortable enough in doing so.

He’s not a dick, he’s a gentleman.

He’s also extremely reassuring about it too and will tell you that he doesn’t mind you clinging onto him at all. If anything he’d probably encourage you to cling onto him in your sleep if that’s what helps you sleep easier.

Welt is more than willing to accommodate for you no matter what, just say the word and Welt will give you his unwavering support.

Gallagher: ‘don’t temp me with a good time sweetheart.’ He’d tease whilst pulling you in close until you were nose to nose and chest to chest.

News just in; big intimidating wolverine man likes cuddles. He’s a secret cuddle bug, though it ain’t a secret to you, obviously.

He just loves the feeling of you close by, knowing that you were just within arms reach of him were reason enough to have him sleeping with a content smile upon his face.

He’s just finding more and more reasons to squeeze you into oblivion because you’re just so fucking adorable and precious in his eyes.

He will want to prove you wrong in not sharing a bed with him by making you share the bed with him all the time. So you might as well get use to it because you’re not leaving anytime soon with his strong of a hold he has on you.

If anything Gallagher is worse when it comes to clinging on to you in his sleep. Firstly he won’t let go and if he feels the slightest bit of pull, he’s already shifting his body weight further on to you, trapping you beneath him and making it neigh impossible to move even a muscle.

Blade: ‘as if you weren’t already clinging onto me like a koala.’ He’d say sarcastically as you’d pout and smack his arm before moving away from him to convey how ‘hurt’ you were to him.

‘That was a compliment you worm.’ - Blade.

‘Well it didn’t feel like one.’ - you, huffing as your lips went into a full blown pout.

Your efforts in making him apologise fails as within one swift movement, you were caged in his arms as you could feel him breathing down your neck.

‘Look who’s the clingy one now.’ You’d try to tease, only to hear him chuckle. ‘No. Still you.’ He’d reply and you couldn’t help but cuddle further into him, uncaring of the fact that you were still very much proving him right.

Blade may act like he hates you clinging onto him but yet he couldn’t help but melt into your embrace and find the much needed sleep he’s been missing out on for so long.

A sense of momentary peace washes over him whenever you touched in, whether that be a graze or otherwise, his mind seems to clear with you; sure he’ll tease you but if he genuinely didn’t like it he would’ve told you straight up, after all Blade’s not the type to mince his words.

He’d much rather have you cling onto him for the rest of your lives than never be unapologetically clingy at all. He never admits it but he loves it when you cling to him in your sleep, you made him feel like he was with more than he ever gives himself credit for.

Dan Heng: Not gonna lie, he’d be in absolute heaven if you were to cling to him in your sleep, but his face would be like this the entire time: 😐

He’s trying his hardest not to let his true feeling show but he somehow fails whenever you shift in a way he doesn’t like and without thinking, pulls you back into his arms and keeps you caged against his chest.

You’re most certainly not complaining but then again you never expected Dan Heng to be the affectionate type when sleeping.

Dan Heng on the other hand took this opportunity to hide away his face into your head/neck area, but it’s not out of embarrassment, but more so because his dragon noodle self wants to leech off of your warmth and engraving your scent into his very being.

‘Are you purring?’ - you in the middle of the night.

‘No. Maybe…*sigh* yes.’ - Dan Heng probably.

He acts like this wasn’t something he’s been wishing for ages, when in actuality it was probably the first thing he’s dreamt of when he first discovered that he had a crush on you.

Something that he has yet to admit to you to this day but never will because it’s a hill he’s all too willing to die on.

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hahaifolded · 2 months ago

Text

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - The Contract (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: Once again playing with something new. Not gonna lie, hated this because this was more work than I had expected. Next one will be more narrative for my sake Warnings: MDNI, Angst (ALSO PUT YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO CAUSE I DO BLOCK)

Contract of Employment - Intelligence Operative Name: [Retracted] Address: [Retracted] The basic terms and conditions of your employment are outlined in this Contract of Employment and the Employee's policies. Duration of Contract: Your employment with the Employer under this Contract started on [Retracted] and will end after 12 months after the initial date. Contract can be renewed after the Employee ends in good standing with the Employer after the 12 months and the Employee deems it a good fit.

Job Title and Hours 3.1: You are employed as INTELLIGENCE OPERATIVE for [Retracted] reporting to "the Captain." 3.2: You are expected to perform all duties outlined below starting at 0800 (8:00am) to 1700 (5pm) Monday through Friday. 3.3: You must be available for any extenuating circumstances past these hours. All emergencies will be informed by "the Captain" and "the Captain" only.

Price: Need you to review the plan for the next mission before the meeting tomorrow.

Ghost groans after reading the message. Price just had to ruin his Sunday night. Realizing that his plan to sleep in was just ruined, he decides to text you. Seeing that you normally got in around that hour, maybe you could join him?

Did he deserve that? God no. But, he missed you. So he sends the text and waits... and waits... and waits...

Next thing he knew, his alarm was ringing, signaling the new day. He checks his phone and sees there are no new messages. It didn't matter. He'll see you around soon enough.

But soon enough comes around and you're nowhere to be seen. Were you running late? Shit, your car. Maybe you were walking again? He sends you a text, but again, no response. He's so worried that he can't even focus when looking over the plans. It's not until he sees you walk in for the meeting exactly at 0800 that his mind eases. Surprised to see you walk in late, he decided to check up on you after the meeting.

Knock, knock

You glance up from your monitor. "Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant? Sure, that was his title, but you always called him Ghost. Something didn't feel right.

"Sorry, I just wanted to check up on you."

You stop typing and completely turn towards him. "Why?" Your tone is accusatory.

He stumbles a bit. You were never short with him. "C-cause you came in late toda--"

"I did not come in late. If you look over my contract, you would see that my start time is 0800, exactly the time I clocked in today." You turn back to your monitor and continue to work.

Ghost takes a big gulp. "Oh. I- uh... I sent you message last night and this morning."

You let out a heavy sigh and stop typing. "Was it an emergency?"

"No, but--"

"Good. I can't waste any time here, have to make sure I put all of my energy in my work. So if you don't have anything else of importance, you can leave." And with that you continue to type.

Ghost walks out of your office and closes the door. Why did it feel like it wasn't just your door that was closed here?

Job Responsibilities 4.1: You are responsible for all work that requires intelligence which includes analysis, gathering of intel, and presentation of said intel. 4.2: You will not participate in work that falls outside your jurisdiction.

After today's meeting, Gaz was weary of the plan. Despite being checked by Ghost, he couldn't help but feel like it needed to be discussed further. He kept in his thoughts during the meeting as he wanted to process them further.

Now after thinking about it all morning, he realizes he needs one more brain to help finalize his thoughts. Not just any brain, however, yours. If he wasn't so caught up in his thoughts, he would have realized that he no longer had any entitlement to your help. But alas without a second thought, he rushes to your office.

He knocks on your door and walks in before you have a chance to say anything. "Hello, hello!" he chirps. And, instead of being greeted by your warm smile, he is greeted by nothing. You don't even bother to glance at him.

Without removing your eyes on the screen, you say with no emotion, "Sergeant Garrick, what do you need?"

Sergeant Garrick? Ewe, that sounded so wrong coming out of your mouth. You always called him Kyle... Gaz if you felt cheeky. Feeling nervous now, Gaz hesitates to speak.

"Sergeant, I really don't have time for your shenanigans. Do you need something?" You quickly glance up and shoot him a sharp look.

That look brings Kyle to the present. "Sorry, yes. I was hoping you would..." You finally look at him, but instead of easing his nerves, it only exacerbated them as you looked at him with annoyance. "If you can, obviously, help me go over the plans for the next mission. Something about them just seem off and I could really--"

You interrupt him. "I have to stop you there. No." And just like that, you turn back to your monitor.

"Why?" he asks without thinking. He catches the way you took in a sharp breath.

Without looking at him, you respond, "I have never been in the field so what use do I have for you? Besides my job is in intelligence and in intelligence only."

He cringes at his own words. He tries to get another word in, but you're clearly not listening. Feeling defeated, he walks out your door.

"Sergeant?" you call after him. He quickly whips around. Maybe you changed your mind?

"Close my door."

Job Responsibilities 5.1: You have jurisdiction over all work that deals with intelligence. 5.2: You have complete authority to discipline officers of lower ranking or similar rank if their actions interfere with your responsibilities.

Soap doesn't know how it happened. He has been in his office all day, working. Sure, maybe he spent more time than he should have thinking about you, but everyone else does it. Now he was scrambling, trying to finalize the schematics for the explosives needed for the next mission.

Low on time, he rushes to your office to beg for your help. He knew he was in deep water with you, but he really had no choice. He hoped your caring heart would pity him this one last time.

He barges into your office, calling your name out. You immediately shoot up from your seat, worry apparent in your face. You hurry to the front of your desk to reach the panting Scotsman.

"Sergeant MacTavish, is everything okay?" Johnny can hear the worry in your voice. Good, you still might care.

"It's an emergency. I need to finish these blueprints by today or Price will kill me! Help your favorite Scotsman out?" he begs. Soap nearly whines when you take a step back from him.

You scoff. "Are you being serious right now?" Okay, maybe you don't care.

"I know, I know. But I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate," he cries. His entire body shudders when you scoff at him once more. You shake your head in disbelief and return to your seat.

"Please, get out."

"Please, it's not even a lot. Just go over--"

"No, Sergeant. I have my own work to do."

"It won't take a lot of time, just--"

"NO!" you stand up again, slamming your desk. "Sergeant MacTavish, it is not in my contract to babysit fools like you." He winces. "If you cannot handle the work that comes with being in Special Forces, I recommend you to consider other careers. So leave my office before I write you up for insubordination," you hiss.

Soap quickly apologizes and leaves your office. He bumps into Price on his way back, but it doesn't phase him. Your utter disappointment in him plays back in his head over and over and over again.

Breach of Contract 8.1: If Employer deems the work of the Employee as unsatisfactory, contract will immediately be terminated. 8.2: If Employee deems the Employer is breaching any of the parts outlined above, Employee has the right to terminate the contract without any repercussions

John didn't take Soap crashing into him personal. It was clear his sergeant was lost in his thoughts. What did pique his interest was where he walked out of. It seemed like every member on his team had a chance to pop in your office today, but him. Refusing to let any of those muppets get in your good graces before he does, he decided to pop in.

Since Johnny left you door open, he just knocks on the doorway before letting himself in. "Hopefully, I'm not disturbing?" he jokes. The clacking of your keyboard stops and you slowly turn to look at him. You take in a deep breath, almost as if you're trying to contain yourself.

"Captain Price," you announce plainly, "do you need something? I'm almost done with today's report."

"No, not at all. Just wanted to check up on you. See how you're doing?" He doesn't quite catch what you mumbled under your breath. "Sorry?"

You roll your eyes. "Nothing," you pause. "I'm fine. Just trying to get my work done before 5pm."

"5pm? Have an appointment or something?"

You stare at him for a bit and remind him of your contracted hours.

Assuming that you were worried about not finishing on time, John assures you that you can always stay in late or pick up again tomorrow. "It happens to the best of us."

Your eyes go cold. "It wouldn't have happened to me if your men and yourself weren't adamant in harassing me with matters that frankly do not pertain to me." You readjust yourself in your seat. "I advise all of you to go over my contract to avoid further misunderstandings. I would hate to leave mid-mission."

John goes cold. You... leaving. He looks in your eyes to see if there was any hesitation. There’s none.

Employer Signature: [Retracted] Employee Signature: [Retracted] Date: [Retracted]

After that day, the 141 realized what they had done. They had completely crushed your spirit and pushed you to be the epitome of professionalism. You were still a phenomenal Intelligence Officer, but you were just that. You were no longer their team mate... their friend.

But you're still here so that's fine... right?

Word Count: 1732

More Thoughts - Next Thought

#cod x poc!reader #cod angst #cod fanfic #cod x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader #tf 141 x reader

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