#I love jimmy he’ll be missed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glossdebut · 3 months ago

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study break | MYG

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t. As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world.

✧ TAGS: college au, smut, fluff

✧ WARNINGS: oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, slight overstimulation

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so this is NOT price of fame chapter two, nor is it the seokjin fic that i’ve been teasing for weeks. this is instead a secret third thing, inspired by my own post that has been living rent free in my brain for the past couple of days. i promise POF2 and the seokjin fic are both coming, but i had to get this out before i lost my damn mind. not beta read, so feel free to inform me of any mistakes i missed. P.S. i know the header isn’t debut yoongi, don’t fucking @ me about it!! i had this photo on hand ):

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.2k words

Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t.

As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world.

Things were so much easier when you—wrongfully—assumed he was an asshole. At least then, the arrangement was clear: you met him in the library, tried not to get annoyed at what a know-it-all he seemed to be for an hour, and then went back to your dorm with a slightly easier method of memorizing the circle of fifths under your belt. It went on like that for weeks. Quick and effective, mostly painless.

But then, when awkward small talk developed into genuine interest, you got to know him.

You learned that the reason he never takes notes in class is because he doesn’t have to. He taught himself all of the basics of music theory years ago, could’ve tested out and moved on to a more advanced class, but he wanted an easy A in his course load. You learned that he’s a classical piano major. He likes it just fine, but it’s really a means to an end. You learned that he writes his own raps, performs them at underground shows with a group of friends some weekends, that that’s what he really wants to do. You learned that he’s not an asshole and he’s just shy, that he’s been working up the courage to ask you out all semester.

You learned even more about him on your first date.

Such as: he’s the self-proclaimed master of grilling meat, and he’ll load up your plate for you before he even thinks of feeding himself. He may act like he’s not interested in going to the noraebang, but with just the slightest bit of insistence from you he’ll fold like a piece of paper. He thinks it’s cute when you snatch his snapback right off of his head and put it on your own. Even cuter when you fumble through a verse of Epik High’s ‘Love Love Love,’ squealing happily when he joins in.

And: he kisses like he’s got something to prove. Knows all the right ways to use his tongue. Makes a low noise in the back of his throat when you do something he likes. Isn’t the slightest bit shy about pulling you into his lap, nor about slipping his hand into your panties right there, Epik High forgotten in favor of making you cum around his skilled fingers.

So. Yeah.

Yoongi is no longer an effective tutor, because instead he is a fucking distraction.

You’re supposed to be studying. You had been studying, both of you putting up a valiant effort for a full hour and a half. But just as you’d gotten a firm grasp on the seven musical modes—Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, Locrian—-Yoongi was whining, insisting on taking a break. You tried to put up a fight, but you’re especially weak when Yoongi gets all sulky, soft pink lips pulled into a pout.

Notecards tossed aside, your fifteen minute study break quickly devolves into half an hour of making out on Yoongi’s bed. As soft music filters into his dorm room from his laptop, you lose track of time with his tongue sliding against yours, the occasional sting of his teeth on your bottom lip because he knows you like it. When you feel his erection pressed against your hip it quickly becomes very clear that you’re both done studying for the time being.

The way Yoongi kisses you never fails to make you crazy. His lips on yours are gentle but commanding at the same time, his hands in your hair holding your head exactly where he wants it as he licks into your mouth like he owns it. When he pulls away, you barely have a chance to catch your breath before he’s trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Your hips rock up against his, desperate for friction.

“Baby,” Yoongi murmurs against your skin. His hands slide down from your hair to gently tug at the waistband of your jeans, an index finger circling teasingly around the button. “Wanna eat you out. You want that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, gasping when he nips at the underside of your jaw. Your voice is high, needy, foreign to your own ears. He’s good at that—at pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t know you could make.

He wastes no time in peeling your jeans down your legs, tossing them off the bed and out of his way. Yoongi likes to have as much space as possible when he eats you out, you’ve learned. He likes to take his time, spread you out as much as he can on his shitty dorm-provided twin size mattress. Just because he can make you cum in record time—and he can—doesn’t mean he likes to. Not when he’d much rather drag it out, savor you in every imaginable way until you can’t take it anymore.

You know you’re in for it when he doesn’t take your panties off right away. Instead, when he settles between your thighs, all he does is look for a moment, his gaze laser-focused on the growing wetness seeping through the cotton.

It lasts long enough that you start to squirm, his eyes flicking up to meet yours at the sudden movement.

“A-are you…?” you start, but you trail off, suddenly feeling way too fucking shy for something you’ve done with him more times than you can count at this point.

“Yeah,” he hums, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “Yeah, I’m getting to it, sweetness. I just wanted to look at you for a second. Is that okay?”

You shiver, swallowing thickly as you nod.

“You sure?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, so close to where you want him. “You don’t have anywhere better to be?”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” you complain, sitting up for a moment to flick him on the forehead.

“Yah, so disrespectful,” he admonishes with a bite right where he’d just kissed. “I’m just playing. I know you don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I don’t,” you agree, suspicious. He’s up to something.

“No, you don’t,” Yoongi hums knowingly, holding your gaze as he presses a kiss right to your clit. It makes your breath hitch, even with your panties subduing the feeling. “Because you love the way I eat this pussy, don’t you, baby?”

The answer is yes, of course. Yoongi always makes you feel so good no matter what he’s doing, but eating you out is definitely where he excels. But something about how cocky he’s being makes something stir inside of you—-makes you feel a little bold, a little mean.

“When you actually get around to it, yeah.”

Yoongi chuckles darkly, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hip. When he lifts his head his eyes are all pupil. “It’s like that, huh?” he asks, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Maybe,” you say, goading.

He clicks his tongue, dipping down to lick a broad stripe over your pussy without any warning. When he reaches your clothed clit, he wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, tearing a surprised moan from you.

“F-fuck!” Your fingers tangle in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, but the overwhelming pleasure is gone as quickly as it came.

“Such a brat,” Yoongi mumbles, sinking his teeth into the softness of your inner thigh again, harder this time. “Just wanted to take my time, treat you nice. But if you want it like this, fine.”

Mercifully, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He roughly drags them down your legs until they’re thrown onto the floor, out of sight just like your jeans.

You gasp when his fingers instantly slide over your slippery cunt, making you gasp. “You get this wet just from pissing me off?” he scoffs, and you shake your head.

“N-no,” you whimper.

“No?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head at you with a smirk. You feel like you’re going to die when his fingers find your clit, rubbing in punishing little circles. “Tell me what gets you this wet, then, baby.”

“You!” you moan. It feels embarrassingly fast, but you’re close. You’re gonna cum before he even gets his mouth on you properly. Maybe that’s his goal. “You, fuck, Yoongi.”

“That’s right,” he purrs. “You gonna cum already, pretty girl? Before I even get to taste you?”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Motherfucker.

You wouldn’t be able to protest even if you wanted to, your brain already succumbing to the pleasant buzz of your impending orgasm. All you can do is squirm and rock up against Yoongi’s fingertips, completely at his mercy.

“That’s okay,” Yoongi continues, unbothered as you shake and moan in front of him. “I know you can give me another one. Go ahead, sweetness. Cum for me.”

Your release tears through you, sudden and intense and all-consuming. You’re sure there are words coming out of your mouth, but between the heat spreading through your body and the static buzzing in your ears, you honestly have no idea what they could be. Yoongi’s fingers keep rubbing at your abused clit until you’re trembling, gasping for breath between moans.

“Filthy girl,” he hums. Whatever you said must’ve been good, because he sounds almost proud of you as he runs his hands over your thighs. “You gonna let me take my time now?”

“Yes,” you gasp, still reeling from your orgasm. Yoongi taking his time is exactly what you need right now, or else you’ll go into complete overdrive. Absently, you think that was his plan all along, but that thought melts away as soon as Yoongi dips down and delves his tongue into your cunt, slow and thorough.

Your brain? Empty. Brain so fucking empty.

“Shit,” he groans against you, his voice so low and gravelly you can feel the vibration of his words against your pussy. “You always taste so fucking good after you cum for me.”

You thread your fingers through his hair again, moaning long and low as he spreads you apart with his thumbs and dives back in. His nose nudges just slightly against your clit as he licks into you, the barely-there contact making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Yoongiiii,” you moan, earning an appreciative moan from him as he dips his tongue into your entrance.

Your first orgasm took you by surprise, but you can tell already that this one is going to be a slow burn, tendrils of heat that never really got a chance to fade spreading through your body, adagio.

As promised, Yoongi takes his sweet time. He sets an agonizing rhythm: licking into you, dragging his tongue up your pussy, gently sucking your clit into his mouth, over and over again until you’re practically a puddle on his mattress.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” you mewl, your thighs shaking around his head. You’d blush at the sounds he’s producing between your legs, slurping and sucking at you, if you weren’t so fucked out. Instead, all it does is turn you on even more, make you even wetter for him.

Yoongi pulls back, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I know, baby,” he murmurs soothingly. “You ready to cum again?”

Wordlessly, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut. Two fingers tease at your entrance, getting nice and wet before Yoongi slides them in, and just like that, you’re ready to burst.

“Nnngh—fuck, ‘m so fucking close,” you slur, grasping at his hair as he pumps his fingers into you.

“Give it to me,” he says, before sucking your clit into his mouth again and making stars burst behind your eyelids.

His fingers curl just right, and then you’re moaning brokenly, bucking up against his fingers and mouth as you cum again.

It feels like it lasts forever. Yoongi moans around your clit as you clench around his fingers, squeezing tight tight tight as heat crashes over you in waves. You feel his fingers withdraw, and then his tongue is fucking into you again, licking every last drop he’s earned from you.

He only breaks away when you’re pushing at his head, overstimulated and spent.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he rumbles, climbing up the bed so he’s on top of you, bracing himself on his elbows. He’s one to talk. He always looks so good like this—swollen lips and dark eyes, the bottom half of his face slick from eating you out so fucking well. “You can just cum and cum for me, can’t you?”

“You are insane,” you breathe, grasping at the strings of his sweatshirt to pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

Yoongi chuckles, pulling away just to press his forehead against yours. “You like it,” he says.

“I like you,” you correct, closing your eyes. “Even though I’m going to fail my final because of you.”

That earns a real laugh from Yoongi, his nose scrunching. “You’re not gonna fail.”

“I am,” you say, nodding sagely. “But it’ll be worth it.”

“That so?” He presses another kiss to your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Besides, I’ll just find a better tutor next semester when I have to retake.”

That earns you a sharp jab of Yoongi’s fingers to your side, but he’s got one of those gummy smiles on his face as you squeal under him, so no harm done.

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macfrog · 1 year ago

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sweet child o' mine | pt. ii

hi. this is max's lawyer speaking. please don't get mad at her for this part. she asked me to let you know that she loves you all and hopes that you trust her. sincerely, jimmy mcgill

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you're pregnant with joel miller's kid. he's dating someone else. you deal with it.

warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy stuff like nausea (none of the v word, y'all are safe with me), ultrasound scene set in a hospital, anxiety and guilt surrounding pregnancy, description of body change/growth, brief and i mean brief discussion of abortion, joel is dating someone who isn't reader, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), reader has no physical description save for hair, cursing, genderless use of buddy when referring to baby, joel kisses someone who is not his partner, mention of alcohol, disturbing & semi-graphic nightmare about being involved in car accident, reader has a panic attack, discussion of dead parents, fluff and the beginnings of angst DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there's ever anything you feel i've missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 9.2k

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

“I know, I know,” Joel holds a palm up, “it’s nine thirty. I know. But I had to lug all this wood over here, and it – You okay?”

You realize when he pauses that you’re gaping at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place behind your front door. Your jaw hinges shut, a gulp like carpet burn down your throat. You didn’t hear a word he just said.

How does he know? He can’t possibly. Did he sense it, from two lawns away? Dream about the binding of cells, the furnace left lit in your body from that night? The embers still floating, just waiting to catch to life again?

Did he do the fucking math, the way you probably should’ve? How does he fucking know?

The minute the question leaves your mouth, you regret it.

Joel’s eyebrows drop. “How did I know what, kid? That you need new closets? Like you ain’t been nipping my ear about ‘em for weeks?”

Your eyes unlock from his and shift to the slats of wood leaning against the balustrade. The toolbox hanging from his fist. The worn jeans and the white dust marks on his thighs. He doesn’t fucking know, you idiot.

Joel steps forward. Takes your wrist. One grounding, steady hand around your thrashing pulse. “You’re freaking me out. What the hell’s –?”

“Nothing,” you chirp, remembering. The closet. The deal. The fucking – the deal. You withdraw your arm. Hidden up your sleeve, quickly slipping out of his grasp, is the news that his life is about to change forever.

Maybe. You don’t fucking know.

“No,” you continue, blinking the burn of sunlight from your vision, “I just – I forgot. Sorry. Come in. Sorry.”

“Quit sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. He lifts a foot and hovers it over the threshold, hesitating. Like the first step across a minefield; instinct telling him to tread carefully.

And you swear an oath to yourself, swear it on your own life: if he doesn’t put the heel of his boot in your hallway, if he turns around right now whether because his instinct is razor sharp, or because he forgot his lucky screwdriver, or purely because he needs to take a fucking leak before he gets started – you will never tell him. He will never know.

If his intuition is that good, he’ll turn around and never show up on your porch again. If he has any sense, he’ll forget any of this ever happened. Deal off.

“How’s the stomach?” Joel asks, sole still three inches from wood.

“What?” you bleat, your heel knocking against the bottom stair. It’s a little more panicked than you intended.

“Yesterday,” a crease forms between his brows, “you said you had a weird stomach. That any better?”

Oh, you think, and as you open your mouth to reply, his foot hits the ground. No answer needed. He was coming in whether you tried to deter him or not.

“Oh, yeah. It’s – Well, it’s better than it was. I think I worked it out,” you grimace, tongue curling under the tinge of anxiety and – well. “Thanks,” you add, noticing the brisk cut of your replies.

The heavy thud of his footsteps follows you upstairs, blunt on the carpet as you lead him up. Joel sets the toolbox down and casts your room a quick glance, snapping back to you as soon as you notice him.

You tug on the corner of the bedsheets, a heat bubbling beneath your cheeks. Something shy and self-conscious, all of a sudden. The reality that you don’t feel close enough to this man to share the anatomy of your room with him, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you are, now and forever, bound by the anatomy of something a little more significant than dirty laundry and dusty wardrobes.

A little closer than most humans get, let’s say.

“You want a coffee or something?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning back against the window sill.

“You havin’ one?”

“Sure. Wait – actually –” Can you have coffee whilst pregnant? A woman at work quit it altogether when she fell pregnant with her son. Fuck. “I’m – No. I’m good. But let me go make you one.”

Joel shakes his head, amused. Screwdriver burrowing into a door hinge already. He flashes you a tickled grin. “I’m good just now, kid. Wait until you’re makin’ one. Thanks.”

You lift a shoulder. “Welcome.”

His eyes flit from the twist of silver to your hunched shoulders, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. “You gonna stand there ‘n watch me all day? You my foreman now?”

“Sure,” you reply, and he laughs. You sniff, twisting your foot into the carpet. The plastic test itches against your skin; you can feel the two lines ripping into your wrist like tiny burns. “I can go, if you want.”

His lip turns, musing. A quick flick of his jaw. “You’re good company, all in all.”

Metal clanking against metal; fingers knuckle-deep in the toolbox. You can hear the harsh sound across your body, like the point of screws and bite of rust are actually scoring your skin. The groan of a near-fifty-year-old man rising to rip a decades-old door from its home. The creak of wood as it splits.

Everything so heightened that it’s actually painful.

Joel straightens up and pauses, turning his screwdriver between his fingers. “Are we –? We’re good, right?”

“Good?”

“Yeah. You’d tell me if things were weird?”

“Why would things be weird?”

His answer scrawls itself across his face. Your response scoffs from your lips.

“I just,” Joel sighs, “I feel like something might be off with ya. Maybe you just ain’t feelin’ too hot. But you’re quiet.”

“Quiet,” you whisper, palms locking heavily against your biceps. More defensive than convincing.

“Yeah. You usually annoy the hell outta me.”

Over your shoulder, Alice Brown waddles down her driveway, eyeing her flowerbeds. She pauses when Diane’s station wagon pulls up across the street; stands motionless as she watches the round figure climb out and totter to her own front door.

“Just – not in a very annoying mood, I guess,” you offer, staring at the white head of hair fluttering in the breeze. The glint of a trowel in her hand.

Joel’s chin lifts. He studies you, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. And then he’s nearing you, turning until you’re shoulder to shoulder, two silhouettes stood against the bright square of blue sky inside your window frame. His arms crossed; his stare fixed.

The words begin to boil in your stomach. Violent bubbles against the wall of your midriff. Rising like steam, fading into nothingness over your tongue, the sting of heat where your voice won’t collect them.

Joel moves from foot to foot. It feels like some kind of merry dance, some choreographed moment between you – like a skit in a comedy show. I know something you don’t know.

“What happened – at the wedding,” he murmurs, addressing the polished gold of your bedframe.

Some small sound passes your lips. An affirmative. You’re on the same page.

“We didn’t use – you know. And with you not feelin’ well, it’s…” A deep breath. Chest full of a ghostly bravery. And then he asks, “Are you –?”

Silence swallows the end of his question whole. You didn’t need it, anyway. The stiffness of his frame, his stare shooting straight ahead. The lack of oxygen between you – both holding your breath for fear that something might tear loose from your lungs. He knows. He knows he knows he knows.

You gulp. “…If I was?”

His head cranes upwards, focusing on the cracked plaster of your ceiling. The realization slowly trickling down over his skin. It hasn’t seeped through, hasn’t bled into his brain yet. “Then,” another breath, “then it’d be a conversation…” His voice is halved, split somewhere between knowing and – what is it? Hoping?

Your eyes slip over to the worn sleeve of his T-shirt, stretched around the swell of his bicep; scaling up to his shoulder, the tight set of his jaw. He’s so much taller, he’s so much older. There’s so much life lived and so many lessons learned behind his eyes that you wonder how much the news I’m pregnant would actually crack him.

Your eyes meet. You whisper, “Then – talk,” and his expression softens.

He blinks away whatever’s left of his trying, his polite attempts to skirt around it. He sheds probably a good three decades – turns back into some doe-eyed boy, wonderstruck and terrified. His voice is quiet, and at the same time, the heaviest with emotion you’ve ever heard it. “Are you?” he asks, and immediately, he blurs behind a wall of tears.

Your sentence gets caught in your teeth. It made no sense to begin with. Tangled between your molars, latching at the back of your tongue. Your hand slowly pulls free from your sleeve, the little white test between your fingers.

Joel’s eyes instantly drop, staring at the pale stick with a fraught expression you understand to mean the message has finally reached his brain. The same words now ringing between his ears: She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant. I got her pregnant.

You hold the test out, quivering in the daylight. He takes it in his thumbs, instantly soothing its tremble. Everything muted, every movement steady and considered. And suddenly the sight of that positive test feels less scary, in his hands. Feels like a smaller problem, if that were ever possible.

And he says nothing, and it’s almost unbearable to watch the shape of his lips thin, the shadow beneath his brows darken. Agonizing to stand here and wonder what the next words over his tongue will be.

He stares at it a moment longer. You count the beats of your pulse in your throat. You wrap your arms tighter around your body, holding your skeleton together.

Joel’s lips part. Your breath freezes. Whatever he says, you don’t want to miss a syllable.

“Are you –” he blinks, “– are you feelin’ okay?”

You stare blankly. His eyes finally lift.

“What?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Your head jerks. “I’m – I’m fine. I mean, I’m fucking shocked.”

He nods. “How long have you known?”

“Took that right before you showed up,” you say, eyes diving to his hands. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”

He’s still switching between you and the test. Checking those two lines are still there, as if they might fade to nothing, and then checking you’re still there – as if you might, too. Might be swept off if he’s not keeping an eye on you.

His face pales. He sinks back against the window ledge. “Jesus,” he breathes, a hand down the scruff of his chin.

And it feels like relief, like a mirror sat before you, presenting the honest truth: you’re fucked, and Joel thinks so, too. It embeds the shock into the cushion of your brain, the weight of it absorbed and laid bare for every particle in your body to pay it a visit. What the fuck do we do now?

“Yeah,” you sniff, “Jesus.”

But then his arm wraps around your shoulder, reminding you you’re still solid. Still whole. He holds you to his side, and when you turn into him, he takes you in the other and pulls you flat against his chest. His lips to your hair. His breathing slowing yours.

“We’re gonna work it out,” he says into your hair. “We’re gonna – Jesus, I did not expect…We are goin’ to be fine, alright? You are goin’ to be fine.”

You’re nodding, the prickle of tears flooding across your eyes again. They’re doing nothing, his words – blunt against your skin and insignificant to the fear swelling around your heart – but it feels better to be afraid with someone. Feels better to hold onto something stronger, something bigger, while you feel yourself beginning to shrink.

“What do we do?” you ask into his shirt.

Joel loosens his grip, pulls away until you’re staring at one another. “What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t…” Your head’s shaking, lips moving quicker than your voice will offer the words over. “I don’t think I want to get rid of it.”

He nods, a hand coming up to hold your cheek. “Alright. Then you don’t have to. You don’t gotta do anythin’ you’re not comfortable with.”

“But,” you sniff, guiltily averting his gaze, “this fucks everything up. Everything’s about to change.”

Joel takes a long, slow breath. “It complicates some things, that’s for sure.” He looks out to the street; Alice Brown now hauling weeds from the edge of her lawn. In his exhale, he breathes a name.

“V…What?”

He looks down. Eyes dance around your damp cheeks. “Vanessa,” he says, clearer now.

“Vanessa?”

A nod. His nose wriggles with an awkward sniff. You push off from his chest.

“Who the hell is Vanessa?”

Joel lets you go; lets you step back. He watches as you brace yourself against the ledge. Runs a hand through his hair while he fixes the right order of words. He’s thinking. Carefully.

Too fucking carefully. He’s taking too long.

“Joel. Who’s Vanessa?”

“She’s…” He sighs. “She’s my ex. From Tommy’s wedding. Vanessa Hart.”

Your jaw slackens. The purple dress. The hair like silk, a halo around her head where the light kissed her perfectly. Her plump lips; the way her head tipped back to laugh. The amount of air you felt her take up the second you laid eyes on her, the second you saw her, arm on top of Joel’s.

“Vanessa,” you whisper, your eyes descending his frame. The memory feels menacing now: her sweet giggle a sneering cackle, and you’ve no idea why. The bulky jewels around her neck, her clawed fingers on his arm.

Joel’s hand sits inches from yours on the wooden sill. Alice is walking back inside.

“We, uh…we swapped numbers the morning after the wedding, at breakfast. I didn’t think much of it, but we’ve seen each other a couple times since.”

This isn’t the time for another it’s a date, it’s not a date argument. What the fuck does he mean by –

“Seen each other?”

“Mhm.” He owes you better than that. He reckons so, too. “Dates,” he clarifies. “We’ve been on a couple dates.”

“Oh.”

Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Plummets, dragging with it your breath and your nerve and any other words you can think of. Your chest gnaws at the edges of the cavity left behind. It hurts. It stings.

Though you’ve no right for it to hurt or sting: as far as you were concerned, as far as you think Joel was concerned, that night was a one-off. It meant as little as the alcohol draining from your glasses, the vacant buzz of love and hope loose in the air. Equally as intoxicating as each other.

Cataclysmic, for the first little while. So heavily awkward that you would wait to watch Joel head out in the morning, clear of your path, before you’d set off for work. It felt like the aftermath of some natural disaster – the cleanup of debris and mistake.

But oh, it feels like a punch to the gut. Low, unexpected; a foul move by someone who never meant to hurt or not hurt you. Someone ignorant to every move he made, right up to this moment.

Your arms wrap around your body again, as though tending to the bruise left by the sucker punch shaped something like that tall woman named Vanessa.

Joel scratches the back of his neck. “We were…we were seein’ about starting things up again. Me ‘n her.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I got you. That’s – I mean, I’m – I’m sorry, Joel, I –”

“Woah, woah,” he’s stepping forward now, “hey, no. No way. This wasn’t you. Well, shoot �� it kinda was you. But it was just as much me, right?”

You smile, your face back in the safe hold of his hands. Tears roll down your cheeks, collecting in the corners of your mouth. His thumbs swipe them away.

“This was just as much me,” he repeats, voice soft and soothing.

“But, you know – if you wanted to – just ‘cause I don’t want to get – so if you didn’t wanna have to – that’d be okay, you know that, right?”

His head snaps back, brows low. It’s the first time he looks like his cool has broken all morning. It’s the first time he looks…downright offended. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, and then, “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I just – I know this ain’t ideal. It’s even worse if you’re tryna make it work with Vanessa. So if you felt like it was too much, then…”

Joel shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says, edged with some kind of groan. “Stop talking, right now. Stop. You gotta take a deep breath, alright? I’m here, ‘n I mean I’m here. We’re in this together. I am not running out on you.”

“Joel –”

What was a mere crack in his cool before, rips through it now like lightning spreading across the sky. He closes his eyes, a sigh escaping between his teeth. “If you think I would leave you right now, to deal with this on your own –”

“I don’t,” you tell him, his vexation powering your sudden animation. You wipe your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m just saying, it’s a fucking lot. I don’t want you to feel trapped. I’m giving you an out, man.”

“I am not interested in taking it. Enough. Conversation over.”

“And what about Vanessa?”

“What about her?” he asks, the question dripping in something akin to anger. He catches himself, draws it back in. “She’ll just – We’ll talk, I’ll explain it. The hell else can we do? One thing at a time, okay?”

“Right,” you nod, “okay. One thing at a time.”

“Let’s just build these damn wardrobes. I sure as hell didn’t lug all that timber over here to not do ‘em.”

“Okay,” you repeat, making for the door.

“Ah.” He clicks, and you turn back. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”

“To get the timber.”

“I don’t think so,” he says, pointing to your bed. “Sit down. Relax. You ain’t getting a damn thing.”

Joel calls it a day at six o’clock.

The skeleton of the closet is up: a smooth, tan frame lining one wall of your room. Much bigger, much sturdier than its predecessor.

You’re in the same spot he left you in: lying across your bed, admiring his handiwork. He’s good at what he does. You told him twice, and the two of you almost heaved both times. Compliments aren’t something you’re used to handing one another.

He left, maybe, three hours ago. Said he had to shower; said he’d be back first thing to finish the job. You sat up to see him out, got struck by a wave of nausea so bad that you fell back to the bed with one hand on your stomach and the other over your lips, and Joel had insisted – demanded – that you stay where you were.

I’ll be back later to check on ya, he assured, setting a glass of water at your bedside. And then he told you to call him if you felt even remotely off – sick, or panicked, or had a tickle in your throat that you couldn’t clear – and that’s when the two of you realized that you don’t even have one another’s numbers.

And you laughed, the both of you; laughed at the absurdity of you carrying his child when you don’t even carry his contact details in your phone. Laughed at how quickly everything has turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the few hours since you woke up. It felt like some form of release, the only way to clear the blockage of tension in both your throats. So, you laughed, until you felt sick again, and Joel swept the hair from your shoulders to cool you down.

The attentiveness is…new. It’s interesting. It’s kind, in the same way that being told to say hi to whoever your grandma is talking to in the grocery store, is kind. Sweet, the same way that answering the door on Halloween to a bunch of kids you don’t know from a street you don’t recognize the name of, is sweet.

Whatever. It’s fucking weird, alright?

You’ve never seen this side of Joel. You didn’t know or even think, in your wildest dreams, that he existed. Let’s face it: you two have spent the entirety of your inhabitance next door to one another, antagonizing each other. Your favorite hobby has always been pissing Joel off – teasing him for having backache, seeing how far down his porch you can launch his newspaper and he’ll still go get it. Playing the same kind of music you heard him playing on his guitar that one time, full-volume from your kitchen window just to fuck with him.

And, likewise: his favorite hobby has always been…well, ignoring you. Doing everything he can not to engage. If it weren’t for that fucking cat lady and her jittery green Chevrolet, none of this would’ve ever happened. She was a catalyst where one was neither needed nor wanted. You would’ve gone about your life, pinning your underwear only slightly more carefully to your clothesline, and Joel would’ve gone about his, doing – whatever the fuck he does.

Sure, it’s weird. But it’s nice. It’s nice to have him on your side, turning to check on you rather than snap at you for something. Nice to have him talk – actual, rounded words in place of grumbles and mumbles and groans and sighs. Nice to hang out with him and watch him work and ask questions about screws and power tools and pretend to be interested just to distract from the weight of queasiness in your stomach.

Your hands trail down, cupping around your navel. Your stomach still feels like your stomach: still soft, still spongey under your touch. If not for the two more tests you’d taken this afternoon, perched on the bathroom counter waiting for Joel to unstick his gaze from his watch and announce, That’s three minutes – both also positive, by the way – you’d have no fucking clue.

You hold the bottom half of your tummy, fingers rubbing gently over the skin that will soon enough grow and swell and protect.

“Hey,” you whisper, staring at the stationary ceiling fan overhead. A pause. An awkward inhale. “…hey, little buddy. I don’t – know you very well, yet. I figure you can’t even fucking hear me, but whatever. Just wanted to say hi. I’m – Ew, no. I’m not Mom, yet. What the fuck. I don’t know who I am right now, so just…maybe go easy on me until I figure that part out. And after, too. Alright? Are we…we cool?

“You can’t tell me, I know. I just have to assume we’re cool. Okay. Well. Keep growin’. Keep…doing your thing. You’re doing great. We’re doing – we’re doing alright.

“Good job, kid. Good job.”

Joel tells Vanessa two days later. She takes it…about as well as you might hope.

He says they talked for four hours. Three cups of coffee and a drive to Taco Bell later, she agreed to meet you. Properly. Not across the cluttered dancefloor of Tommy’s wedding.

She –? Is – is that a good idea?

I don’t know, kid. It’s the best I’ve got.

Meet me? Like, come kick my ass for sleeping with her boyfriend?

Joel had sighed and deadened his eyes on yours. Not her boyfriend, he corrected, passing you a sweater folded a little slapdash for your liking, and wasn’t her boyfriend when we slept together.

You shook the sweater straight again and fixed his work, muttering to yourself that at least he’s a better builder than he is a folder.

Joel heard you, and let it go. Passed you another – unfolded – sweater to sit in your wardrobe. Let’s just see how it goes, alright?

Alright.

We’re really trying this again. It’s only been a couple weeks.

Okay.

And neither of us have had much luck in that department since we broke it off, y’know?

Joel. I said okay.

He held your gaze a moment too long. Okay.

You’re on your porch when he strolls over, wrist blocking the six o’clock sun from his eyes. Newspaper in his fist, wind licking the corners. “Forget somethin’ today?” he asks, meeting you at the top of the steps.

“Came out to get it,” you brace yourself on the railing, “felt sick. This is me workin’ up to it.”

“You want me to toss it back onto my lawn so you can go fetch me it?”

You smile, eyes screwing shut. “Was coming over to ask what time for tomorrow.”

The reminder snaps him from his happy daydream. He says, “I was comin’ to ask you the same thing. Seven work?”

“Seven’s good. Are we getting food?”

“You wanna get food? I figured maybe you wouldn’t be up for it, what with the, uh…” Joel gestures to your hunched position, your head low between your shoulders, your deep, deliberate breaths.

“Maybe just drinks,” you utter, gulping back the sharp taste of bile.

He nods. “Drinks it is. You okay? You need anything?”

“I’m good. Thanks. See you guys at seven.”

Four minutes early, there’s a knock at your door. You pull it open, and there they are. Picture-perfect, like they might be posing for a holiday card. A bottle in his arm, a bunch of flowers in hers. A timid but genial smile between her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye. That same circle of shining light around her head, brunette tresses curled into bouncing waves.

“Howdy,” Joel says, stepping into the space you create. He dips his head, kisses your cheek, whispers a brief, Y’okay? in your ear. You nod quickly, gently shifting him out of the way.

Vanessa lingers for a moment in the doorway. She glances from Joel to you again, blinking in the porch light. Her pale skin lit in an ethereal glow. She’s prettier up close.

Joel addresses you, hand brushing the small of your back, “…this is Vanessa.”

“Hi,” she says, and pushes the flowers towards you – a small bouquet of gypsophila and eucalyptus. Bright, polite. Each sprig laden with the burden of appearing simpatico, but important. Meaningful, in the airiest sense of the word. “Hi,” again.

“Hi,” you echo, and then feel stupid for having nothing more to offer. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, hot on your shoulder.

But Vanessa takes the weight from your chest. “It’s nice to meet you – officially. I saw you at Tommy and Maria’s wedding. You looked so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” springs from your tongue sooner than the rest of the sentence. Your brain scrams to find more words. “You looked – you looked great, too. Do you wanna –? I mean – Sorry. Come in. Obviously.”

She clicks over the threshold, her pale dress floating into your hallway like she’s part of a dream. She’s just as beautiful in this light, relaxed form – pastel blue and the glimmer of golden jewelry – as she was in the sleeker, more dramatic form you saw her in before. An aura about her which captures and tends to your attention. Intense, captivating, but not intimidating.

You usher them to the living room, offer them a space on the couch while you take Vanessa’s flowers to the kitchen. Joel follows you through, sets the bottle on the counter.

“Nonalcoholic,” he says, unscrewing the cap.

Your eyebrows jump. “Great. Thanks.”

“She’s nervous,” he murmurs, leaning in. “I know you are, too. Y’all are similar like that.”

You slot the stems into a vase of water one by one, carefully organizing a display. “She seems sweet,” you assure him. “She shouldn’t be nervous.”

“Neither should you.”

“Is this…totally weird for you?”

Joel breathes in deep, filling three glasses. “Yeah,” he says, eyes never lifting from the sparkling peach.

“Sorry.”

He angles his jaw. “Stop sayin’ you're sorry. I’ll kick your ass.”

Your head drops between your shoulders, eyes lifting only to his elbows. “Sorry.”

He scoffs, swiping the glasses and stepping back to let you out first.

“I’m trying not to make it weird,” you offer, slipping by.

“I don’t want you to try anything.” He kicks your ankle lightly and follows you back into the living room.

Vanessa sits forward and clasps her hands around her knee when you sit back down, shifting as though to reach for you before she stops herself. “How are you feeling? Joel said you’re a little…worse for wear, right now.”

“I’ve been better,” you say, smiling. “Just morning sickness. Which lasts – all day.”

She nods sympathetically. “My sister had it rough with her first. I actually…” She twists around, reaches for her purse, fishes out an orange packet. “I brought you some ginger tea. Kate told me it helped her a lot, so.”

She holds it out in almost trembling fingers. Likewise, you steady yours to take it from her, thanking her with a shy nod of the head. “That’s so kind,” you reply quietly, eyes darting to Joel. He’s staring at the pack in your hands, watching as you turn it over to read the back.

“And – listen,” Vanessa continues, the acceptance of her offering clearly fueling her assuredness, “I don’t want anything to be weird – between you and I, between you and Joel. I know this situation is…new. It’s, um…”

“It’s kinda weird,” you say, humoring. “It’s okay. I know.”

She breathes a relieved laugh. “It is. Thank God you said it.” She glances back at Joel, who smiles at her, slips his hand onto her knee. “But I guess,” a deep breath, “I guess it is what it is. And we’re all adults, you know? We can make it work, right?”

Your head switches rapidly between nodding enthusiastically and shaking enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes. No, absolutely. And, you know, me and Joel – there isn’t – we’re not at all…”

“Oh,” she bats the idea away, “I know. I know that. He told me everything. It’s – You know, it’s just a timing thing.”

Joel’s staring down at his hand locked around her leg. Unblinking. Unmoving. His expression doesn’t shift until the two of you settle back into your seats; until Vanessa asks if he’d mind making you a cup of ginger tea.

You barely notice his absence, the way she takes you up in conversation. Like twirling you off in some kind of dance, each sentence strung safely to the next. There are no lulls, no awkward pauses. She asks about work, asks about your family. She tells you stories about her niece, who’s three now, and compares how you’re feeling to how she remembers her sister feeling.

Then her work, and the IT guy her friend hooked up with, and her class at the gym which she’s trying to convince Joel to come along to, and Kate’s hot yoga class every Thursday night, and the new sushi place which just opened downtown and You gotta try it some day; the nigiri is divine.

And you nod along, and you laugh at her anecdotes and tell your own, and Joel tells her to tell you about the jazz band who were playing at the restaurant they visited a couple weeks ago, and you offer to top her drink up and she says she’ll do it herself and she leaves you and Joel alone for the first time all evening, and – it’s weird.

Because – behind the veil of conversation you’re doing your best to uphold, sits an image of this very night – only, in Joel’s house. In Joel’s house, on Joel’s couch, drinking nonalcoholic wine with Joel’s brother. Joel and Vanessa leant against one another on one couch, Tommy and Maria on the other.

You can’t help it – you’re wondering what Maria thinks of Vanessa. How long they knew each other, if at all, before the breakup. Whether they hung out, whether they discussed sushi and yoga, or the housing market, or their Miller boyfriends and their annoying Miller habits.

Maria would’ve liked her, you think. Would’ve found her as lovely as you do. And the idea, the image of them giggling together at family parties and being Tommy’s Maria and Joel’s Vanessa – presses a firm, bullying finger into the bruise you thought had faded some from the other day.

And once they’re gone, once you’re left alone again – lying in still silence, closed in on yourself by the thick darkness of your room, nothing but you and your thoughts and your unborn child for company – it slips out.

“Fuck her, right?” You hold your hands out, addressing your stomach. “She was so fucking nice. Did you like her? Fuck me, I liked her. I hope they break up.”

And then, realizing who you’re talking to: “No. Sorry, baby, no. I don’t hope they break up. I want your dad to be really happy. But – Goddamn. She was so sweet. I thought she was gonna slap me, and she just – she brought ginger tea! Fuck. They look good together, don’t they?”

It’s just hormones. Just the emotional trip that is being four weeks pregnant. Everybody feels like this when they fall pregnant – sensitive, vulnerable, clingy. Right? Right?

Your words sit stagnant in midair. You swear you can see them, heavy and intruding. Awkwardly lingering someplace they don’t belong. Because none of it even matters – the hormones, the emotions. The weird knot burning a hole in your chest, shaped like a clenched fist, knuckles branded by the heat of longing. It can’t matter.

You’re where you are, he’s where he is. A pillow in your arm, Vanessa in his. Feet apart, bricks and mortar and something like twenty years and two dates too late separating you.

Both staring up at the ceiling, wondering who the other’s thinking of.

“At eight weeks, your baby is roughly the size of a raspberry.”

Your knee bounces, breath coming and going in shaky ripples. The rubber sole of your shoe cries against the sterilized hospital floor. Your chest hums anxiously and your throat catches when you swallow and are the lights too bright? The room too hot? You’re sweating. Why are you sweating? Can you breathe right now?

Joel nudges your arm and your eyes roll to the pamphlet in his hand, his finger tracing the words. “C’mon,” he utters, leaning in, “how can anything the size of a raspberry be scary?”

You squint under fluorescent white. “A raspberry that grows into the size of a watermelon, can break my ribs, make me throw up, make me lose hair, and then tear my vagina apart on its way out? That’s pretty scary.”

He smirks. “Not to me it ain’t. My vagina stays perfectly intact the entire time.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you reply, whacking him.

He laughs, swatting your palm away, keeping ahold of your fingers inside his own. “Speaking of – we gotta talk.” He elbows you, waiting until you’re looking again to speak. “We gotta cut the language.”

“Cut the language?”

“Uhuh. Rein it in. And by we, I mean you.”

“Uh,” you scoff, “I don’t think so. When you do the growing, then you can rein your own swearing in. Leave me alone, asshole.”

“Charming,” Joel says. “You know the baby can hear you? You want it to come out swearin’ like a trooper?”

You grin, tipping your head to him. “If it comes out and says anything, we’re rich. So – yeah. Let it.”

He opens his mouth to reply when a nurse emerges from a nearby room and calls your name.

“You’re up, kid,” Joel says, standing beside you.

You turn back, speaking before your brain settles on words. “I’m scared.”

“Hey,” he says, taking your hand. He squeezes it gently, uses the other to keep you facing him. “This is the easy part, right? We’re just going to meet them.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and wander over to meet the nurse. Joel’s hand a vice grip around yours.

She leads you into a similarly washed-out clinic room, only slightly dimmer with the lights turned out, and yanks a roll of paper across the bed. Tapping it twice, she smiles. “Hop up, darlin’.”

You settle into the crinkly paper, leaning back until you’re blinking up at the speckled ceiling. Another door opens and a woman in a white coat floats in, and you swear that if it weren’t for Joel’s Evenin’, ma’am when she greets the two of you, you’d believe she were a figment of your imagination. Another character in this fucking insane dream.

“Not often I do these past five o’clock,” she says, clicking her mouse and typing on her keyboard and fixing a hair grip back into her bun. Casual. It’s not even a thing to her, introducing parents and children. She does this all fucking day.

Joel tosses half a glance to you and then realizes you’re not currently in the room. He pinches your hand again. It grounds you for all of two seconds.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “work commitment. I couldn’t get away any earlier, so we’re havin’ to do this a little late.”

“What do you do?” she asks, staring at her screen. Her glossy brown eyes and rich, dark skin.

“I’m a contractor,” Joel replies, thumb stroking your shoulder.

Something bubbles in your stomach, something akin to jealousy, an urgency to tell her that right now, in this room, he’s mine. No more questions. Something which quickly dissipates when you remind yourself to quit being fucking ridiculous and that right now, in this room, he’s someone else’s, and the thumb on your shoulder is merely to hold you back from fleeing. Nothing more.

The sonographer nods. Her name badge reads Freya. Pretty name. Stop picturing what your kid would look like as a Freya. You are not naming them after the first sonographer you meet.

“Shouldn’t be too long, then y’all can get home for the night. You live nearby?”

“Twenty minutes’ drive. Not far, are we?” Joel asks you.

Your eyes shoot down to his. “No,” you push your cheeks up, telling Freya, “not far.”

She flattens her lips against one another, lending you a sympathetic smile. “You got nothing to worry about, honey. Promise. Gel might be a little cold, that’s about as scary as this gets. We’re just gonna make sure everything’s looking good, check your dates, check your measurements. You’re doing great.”

“You hear that?” Joel murmurs, settling down into the chair by your side. His hand hasn’t left yours. His voice is low, meant just for you, when he repeats, “You’re doin’ great.”

You huff a laugh, some nervous release from your lungs.

Freya smiles, face lit by the faint glow of the screen in front of her. “We ready?”

You roll the hem of your tee up when she motions, bunching it under the wire of your bra. She squeezes a bottle over your stomach, which tenses solid when the frozen bite of gel curls right below your belly button. Freya smiles apologetically when you wince. Told you, she murmurs, and your breath escapes in a slightly more comfortable laugh. Lighter, easier. Scariest part over.

She presses the probe to your skin and spreads the gel, coating the bottom of your tummy in a slippery slick which tickles with each inch she covers. Two buttons pressed, and a dark image appears on a screen opposite you.

A gray fan, speckled like the ceiling above your head. Dark, black shapes growing and shrinking at the turn of Freya’s wrist. She pauses, two blobs onscreen: the larger, black, round, home to a smaller, misshapen one. Flecked with white and silver and moving slowly, gently, but – right there.

“Mom, Dad,” she grins, “meet your baby.”

You and Joel move forward at the same time, drawn closer to the crunchy image as if by some kind of natural magnetism. Eyes never blinking, lips agape. The shapes flutter, the smaller dipping in and out of view.

“You see right here, right in the center?” A white cross appears over the blob’s middle. “That little movement? The kinda – pulsing?”

You each nod. Your nails dig so deep into Joel’s hand that you risk drawing blood.

“That’s the heart. Ticking away.”

“The heart?” you ask, watching the rhythmic flicker in the center of the screen.

“Yep. Perfect, too.”

She hits another key and suddenly the room is filled with a muffled thudding; a steady, energetic pulse in your ears. It matches the movements onscreen, the tiny throb of the baby’s chest, the shape of your womb moving like waves before you.

And suddenly, it's real – all of it: the screen and the room and the sonographer and you, and Joel’s hand encasing yours, holding your knuckles to his lips, and –

And the heartbeat. Right there, right in front of you. Shy, probably as nervous as you are to introduce themselves. Feeling your eyes on them, curled up somewhere safe inside you. Right there.

You turn to Joel, and his illuminated face is staring straight at the screen. Eyes soaked with tears, blinking as they form, cheeks dappled with wet. He draws his eyes from his child only to look back at you, only to mirror your stunned smile, your disbelieving laugh, more tears dripping down into his beard. He sits up, presses his damp lips firmly to your forehead.

Freya mutes the heartbeat, pauses the scan where the image is clearest, and sits back. “I’ll give you guys a moment to yourselves,” she says, wheeling back in her chair. “Take all the time you need. I’m right outside.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbles for the both of you, sweeping hair from your face.

The door closes on your little bubble – you, Joel, and the grainy image of your baby. The evidence that – yeah, that night happened, and yeah, you’re forever changed because of it. The evidence that you’re about to become a mom, for real, no matter how much the thought makes you feel like your stomach is kicking around at your ankles.

And the evidence that, no matter how scared you might be, how unprepared and unworthy you feel – you fucking adore that little blob already.

Love it as much as Joel does, stood over you, kissing your hair and whispering words you’re only half-listening to. A quiet thank you, a shaky I can’t believe it. Something about showing his brother. And when you look up at him, blinking at one another, inches apart – he takes your jaw in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.

Different. Softer. No want laced through. No urgency. Nothing needed, nor requested, that isn’t already right here in this little bubble of yours.

He kisses you slowly, eyes closed, holding you until you pull away for breath. His nose bumps against yours and you laugh, heads together, eyes low.

“Still scared?” he whispers.

“Terrified,” you tell him.

“Me, too,” he says, and kisses you again.

You lean back against the bed, relief settling your bones and soothing your heartbeat. The notion washes over you that, if you could, you’d stay in this room forever. Staring at the screen, holding Joel’s hand. Whispering fears into his mouth and letting him swallow them in a kiss.

He hands you some paper towel and helps you drag it across your stomach, your eyes still fixed on the little shape opposite. He hooks his chin over your head – the fresh, woody smell of his cologne infiltrating your lungs and throwing you under the haze of something you’re not quite sure how to define.

“Duck,” he says, voice vibrating into your skull.

“Huh?”

“Start saying duck. Make the baby think we’re saying that, then you can say –” he lowers his voice, “– fuck, all you want.”

“The hell would I have to say duck for?”

Joel stands upright and shrugs. “I don’t know. Think of somethin’. A nickname, maybe.”

“Duck?”

He nods plainly, glancing over to the screen.

The pillow beneath your head sighs as you turn from Joel back to the ultrasound. “Baby Duck,” you offer, and he smiles.

Smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. Eyes glistening, cheeks swollen. Something innocent and earnest about it. Something pure.

He agrees. “Baby Duck it is.”

Joel insists that you spend the night at his place.

“It’s been a big day,” he reasons, fixing the bed in his guestroom. “Just – let me run around after you for a little bit.”

You fight your corner as much as you can be bothered – I gotta maintain my independence, I’m gonna be a single mom soon enough, you know – but, truthfully, you’ll take any excuse to have him rush around at your beck and call. Some days you open your mouth and he hears the wet click of saliva between your lips, and grabs a glass of water for you before you’ve even voiced the request.

He orders takeout, settles shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch, and lets you pick whichever movie you feel like putting him through until the food’s gone, he’s out of beer, and you’ve abandoned Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles for an argument about the best part of pizza.

You don’t like the crust?

Nope.

What fuckin’ age are you?

If it ain’t stuffed, it’s just not worth it.

At eleven, you bid him goodnight and wander upstairs, falling into a sea of navy-blue sheets to be delivered to sleep by the serene silence of Joel’s home. It takes no time for your eyes to flutter closed, the soft sheen of moonlight painted across the wall, sweeping from your view to be replaced in a whir by –

Lights. Overhead and all around and so bright and so close that you swear they’re etched on the inside of your eyelids.

You’re in the backseat, watching them soar by in blurs of white and red and amber and green, and your pulse is rattling through your veins and throbbing between your temples and you can’t focus on any one object for longer than three seconds, before your eyes roll and your head dizzies.

A word, slung from your lips in a half-wakened attempt to stop it. A word you barely recognize at first, don’t understand the meaning of. It’s been years. Why now? Mom.

You’re not sure why, or who you’re even reaching out to. There are two figures in the front seats, heads facing forward. She’s not turning around. She’s not even fucking moving, not reacting to the speed or the lights or your voice. Mom.

You scream it, the syllable ripping violently from your throat, and your tiny fingers reach for her swirls of hair. You pause, staring at the chipped polish on your stubby, kiddy nails. Mom, I’m scared.

The distorted blast of a horn scoops the car up in one motion, hurtling over itself along the freeway. You’re thrown to the roof of the car, plummet back down to your seat; the seatbelt throttles you, rips a burn deep into the skin of your neck. Back up again; your head hits the spongey roof of the car. Your stomach somersaults.

Mom, please, you wail, swiping for her hand. It’s lying limp by her thigh, dark droplets on her wrist. Mom Mom please Mom I’m scared Mom please I’m so scared I –

“Baby.”

His voice is low, earthy. It chews apart the high-pitched squeal of brakes and screaming. The glass smashing. The metal crunching.

You lift from the bed like it’s ice water, gasping when you finally surface back on Earth. Your chest heaves, it’s not sucking in enough breath; you can’t breathe you can’t breathe you can’t fucking breathe.

Joel whips the cover from your legs and you roll from the mattress, feet planting on the floor. You bend forward to grip onto the sheets, a choking rising up your throat, closer and closer until it tugs on your tongue.

“Icantbreathe,” you pant.

Joel’s body curves around yours. “You’re alright,” he’s telling you – urging you; one hand between your shoulder blades, the other holding your wrist for fear you might collapse. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re at my place, you’re safe, but, kid – I need you to slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”

You work your breathing to the strokes of his hand up and down your spine: in out in out in and out and in and out and in, and out, and in, and…out…and in…and…out.

“That’s it. Keep doing that. You’re good, baby, I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

In – and out. In – and out again.

The room slowly desaturates back into boring, moonlit blue. Feeling sputters back into your hands, clawing at the sheets once the sharpness dissolves. The cotton pets back, smooth under your quivering touch. Your lips stop tingling, your ears stop ringing. One after another, until your blood settles back to a steady stream and you straighten up.

“Can you sit down for me?”

“No,” you whimper, and Joel nods.

“That’s alright,” he says. “I’m gonna get you a drink, that okay?”

You grab his T-shirt. “No. Don’t leave me. Please. Sorry.”

He cups your frozen cheeks. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Just downstairs. You can come.”

He settles you at his kitchen table and shuffles over to the cupboards, rubbing his eyes. You feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt, watching as he settles down with a groan minutes later.

“Ginger,” he tells you, voice rounded by his mug, sliding one of your own over to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, lifting it with two hands. The smell sharp, cutting up the remnants of gasoline and smoke.

“Many times do I gotta say it?” he asks dryly. “Quit sayin’ you’re sorry.”

You gulp nervously. “You got work in the morning. You’re gonna be exhausted.”

“And if I hadn’t let you keep me up watchin’ chick flicks, I’d be rested. That’s something I can deal with later. I got you to worry about right now.”

You shake your head; the ceramic hits the table with a sharp thud. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Well,” Joel sniffs, “you’re carrying my child. I’ll always worry about you.”

You sit back, the curve of the chair cradling, your heart beating lamely against the wood. Joel’s jaw rests in the cushion of his palm, staring back at you.

“What time is it?” you ask, and he glances over his shoulder.

“Three. Take a sip.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sip.”

You obey, lifting the tea and swallowing harshly.

He watches every move, every shift reflected in his dark eyes, decorated by a tense, stony expression. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Never,” you say. “This never happens.”

Joel cranes his jaw, cracks his neck. “Alright,” he sighs, “that’s okay. Breathe again. You’re doing fine.”

But you don’t feel fine. The dregs of panic sizzle into something thicker, hotter. Anger. Frustration. “Why the fuck is this happening?” you hiss, fingers prodding into your eye sockets. “What the f–?”

“Easy. I don’t know. Hormones? Stress?”

“You sound like my fucking doctor.”

Joel smiles. Amusement, before concern wipes over it again. “Let’s just give it some time to pass, okay?”

You nod, hanging over your drink, the silhouette of your reflection staring back at you. The steam snakes up, seeping into your skin, bubbling under the surface. Wiping clean any memory of freeway or nail polish, like coating over a bathroom mirror. The shapes still visible behind, but blurred. Gone.

“How’s Vanessa?” you ask, an attempt to distract yourself.

Joel adjusts a little awkwardly in his chair. “She’s good. She loved the scan photo. Showed it to her sister. They’re sure it’s a boy.”

“Ha. Joel Jr.”

“Joel Jr.,” he agrees, and then attempts to distract himself. “So,” he says, “Allandale.”

“Mhm?”

“Wonder if I ever saw your mom or dad. When I was there visitin’ Sam.”

You shrug. “Doubt it. I mean, they always lived right next to the elementary school, if that helps. My mom was a first-grade teacher. The two of us used to walk there ‘n back together, every day.”

“First grade, huh? Best one.”

“Yeah. Yeah, and she was the best of the best. She used to go all out for her kids; used to go to Michaels and get all this crafty stuff so they could spend all afternoon making little houses or zoos, or – whatever she could think of. And she’d always keep some aside, bring some home for me to make one, too. One time, she came home with all this blue tissue paper and little foam fish, and we made an aquarium together.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Joel says.

“Yeah,” you say again, nodding eagerly. “She was so cool. And fun, y’know? I just remember her being so much fun. I always felt safe with her, felt loved. I actually used to think she hung the sun every morning, just for me.” You take a deep breath, replacing it with a broken sigh.

“What about your dad? What was he like?”

You frown. “He was…fine. Real quiet, reserved. A little grumpy, I guess. I always got the idea he couldn’t be bothered with me, young as I was. Always wanted to be left alone. I think my mom overcompensated a lot.”

Something flashes across Joel’s face that seems to say he knows – or, at least, he understands. Almost imperceptible, a quick flicker of annoyance. “You miss her?” he asks, switching back.

“My mom?” You almost laugh, gripping onto your mug. Staring at the slow swirl of ginger. A shrug which presents more like a flinch; an animal swatting a fly away. “I miss those parts, when I think of them. The aquarium, the walking to school. Miss the memories. But I don’t think I knew her well enough or long enough to miss her.

“I’ve lived way longer without her than I ever had her. Done everything without her, like –” gesturing down, “– this. But, sometimes…sometimes, I bundle the sheets up behind my back in bed, and I pretend it’s her. Pretend I have a mom, and she’s cuddling me to sleep. I dunno. Maybe that’s what missing her feels like.”

Joel soaks in every word you say, letting the shape of each one settle on the table between you before he speaks again. Letting them be spoken into the dead of night, collected by no one, and letting them fade into silence. Secrets sweeping off into starlight. Nothing you would admit in the daytime.

“What was her name?” he asks, voice timid and gentle in the dark kitchen.

You almost choke on your tea. “Shoot – I’m sorry. That was a lot. Sorry. She, uh – Her name?”

It brings the first genuine smile to your lips; the memory of your mom now clear behind your eyes. Her round cheeks, her fluttering earrings. The deep, dark curls of her hair, thick ringlets twisting and lighting in the sun. The gap between her front teeth, the purse of her lips as she kissed your cheeks, your hands, your tummy.

Her name like a melody in your head; a safe word, a calming mantra when the world becomes too noisy, too saturated, too sharp to bear. Two syllables. Two little beats, like a piece of her still lives in the sound of her name.

“Sarah,” you tell Joel. “Her name was Sarah.”

#*hits post*#*throws laptop from bridge*#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #neighbor!joel #babydaddy!joel miller #babydaddy!joel #tw pregnancy

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maxlarens · 8 months ago

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Max and 10 please <3

10) spooning at night

Despite the soundproofing you’d installed during Covid, you can still hear Max’s pedals going thunk against the walls of the apartment. The sound accompanied by faint chattering, occasional laughter, cries of outrage as he talks to his friends on stream.

He worries sometimes. But you’d tell him if it bothered you— besides, you like hearing sounds of life in the apartment. You’ve not quite adjusted to the sheer square footage of Max’s penthouse apartment yet, even though you’ve lived with him for years. You grew too used to New York apartments where your bedroom, kitchen, and dining room were always piled on top of each other. It’s strange to have so much space, more rooms than you know what to do with.

Anyway, no, the noise doesn’t bother you. You like to hear him enjoying himself, laughing with his friends, doing something that doesn’t have so much pressure attached to it. You don’t like to take him away from that prematurely, even if you’re missing him.

And you are missing him.

It’s the middle of the night. Maybe past midnight now. You’ve got the windows in your bedroom open, letting in the Monaco sea breeze in a futile attempt to cut through the sweltering heat. The overhead fan whirrs above you. Some mindless show you love drones quietly on the TV, casting you in ever changing colours as you twist and turn in the sheets. Trying to keep your mind off things you shouldn’t be worrying about.

You wait a while, watch an episode.

Then you give in to your selfish tendencies and pull up your Discord chat with Max on your phone, sending off a simple message— come to bed?

You put your phone back on the nightstand and try not to smile too wide when you hear the sim rig thunk and thud as Max climbs out of it a few minutes later. His footsteps on the hardwood floors as he stops by the kitchen and then makes his way to the bedroom.

The door creaks open. Max comes inside, stepping quietly as if you’re already asleep.

“Sorry, liefje,” he says softly, before he ducks into the closet to change, “I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

You shake your head even though he can’t see, “You didn’t. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You should have told me,” he sighs, coming out of the walk in closet wearing the oversized cat shirt you’d bought him and worn sweat-shorts with holes in the waistband, “I don’t mind cutting the stream short, not for you. They will survive without me.”

You hum and nod placatingly, knowing you wouldn’t ever ask him to do that. At least not for something like this. You’d only sent that message tonight because you knew he’d already been on for hours and would be wrapping up soon anyway.

“Got it,” you say, opening your arms and beckoning him to get into bed already.

He sighs again, an exasperated little exhale through his nose, and then climbs under the single sheet you’ve got draped over you. He shuffles into your space, pressing a wet kiss to the side of your chin as you press a kiss into his forehead and adjust your arms around him.

“Where are the cats?”, you ask, while Max busies himself with turning around.

You feel Max shrug. He’s adjusting the sheet so it sits over him perfectly and then fluffing his pillows so his head sits comfortably. You reach out to scratch the back of his neck, with three fingers, the same way you scratch the cats out of habit.

“Jimmy’s sleeping in the spare room,” he says, reaching blindly behind him to catch your shirt and drag you closer, “Dunno where Sassy is.”

“Causing trouble,” you laugh, slotting into place at his back.

You nudge your nose into his shoulder and sling your arm over his waist. Curling it around to press into his stomach. Your legs end up tangled, one of yours bent and hiked on his hip. Later, he’ll nudge it off because it twists the material of his shorts, but he tolerates it until you’re asleep.

“Mm,” he agrees, finding your hand splayed flat on his tummy and intertwining it with his own, “Always.”

#based off real life events. my partner has a sim set up and i can hear his pedals and clutch thudding against the wall whenever he plays lo #this turned out way longer than i meant it to be #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #💫drabbles #drabbles:mv33

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wandering-pirate · 14 days ago

Text

Mouthwashing Crew Headcanon

The Crew has a Crush~

You, it's 🫵🏻

Captain Curly

You walk into the control room, and Curly’s full-on beefing with the ship’s voice assistant

Turns out, he programmed it to be more “human” for fun... welp, the AI's definitely having fun roasting the captain

“I’m the captain! You’re supposed to obey me!”

“Obey? Sir, you can’t even obey a map.”

You're struggling to keep it all together because Curly’s already TOMATO RED from embarrassment (and maybe from the fact that you’re watching)

He tries to play it cool, though

“This is just a glitch. Totally fixable.”

“Yes sir, I'm fixable. What’s not is your love life, tho.”

The crew knows he’s into you, and now even a literal system algorithm's joining in on the teasing

The man's not even surprise when the voice assistance turned a 180° on you and treated you like a queen... he ain't complaining tho

Nurse Anya

You came to the med bay for a papercut

You’re expecting, like, a band-aid or maybe some ointment, but what you got was a full medical intervention

“This could get infected. Let’s disinfect, bandage, and monitor it. For safety.”

“…It’s just a papercut.”

She keeps pulling out stuff from the cabinet:

Medical tape, okay so far

Gauze... a bit...much

Wait, is that... surgical gloves?

You’d think you crawled in with a gunshot wound

When she actually started treating your cut, she goes on a call mute, like she’s concentrating way too hard and you can't reach her

You catch her sneaking glances at you...cute

But what makes it more diabetically adorable is with both your slight accidental touches

She’s immediately short-circuiting, mumbling “sorry, does it hurt? wait, why would it hurt?? oh my gos--”

Girl is fighting for her life over brushing your sleeve while she's fully holding your hand with both hands

Meanwhile, Swansea’s strolling past the med bay, just shaking his head like, “Anya, just tell ‘em you like ‘em already."

Co-pilot Jimmy

You’re helping Jimmy with a minor maintenance task (he totally didn’t ask for your help; you just “showed up,” okay?)

He’s being his usual smug self, but you know he’s flustered because he keeps snapping at you for no reason

“Don’t touch that, you’ll mess it up."

“I literally haven’t even touched anything yet.”

“Well, don’t think about touching it either!”

He’s trying to show off and “teach” you, but keeps fumbling because you’re watching him too closely

The crew’s already onto him. Curly literally walked past once and muttered, “Subtle, Jimmy. Real subtle.”

“SHUT UP, CURLY.”

“…Do you want me to leave?”

“No! I mean--just stay over there. Quietly.”

He’s the human equivalent of a malfunctioning toaster, and it’s both annoying and adorable

Mechanic Swansea (Gruff Dad Energy™)

You pranked Swansea by hiding his tools, thinking he’ll just scowl and grumble like usual...huge, BIG mistake

This man plays chess while you’re playing checkers

The next day, everything you own is missing: Shoes? Gone

Favorite mug? Gone

Your bunk? Covered in engine parts

Swansea doesn’t even deny it, just smirks and chuckles, “Don’t start wars you can’t win, kid.”

But here’s the thing: later, you find your stuff neatly returned with a plate of snacks he definitely didn’t make (he asked Curly "what young'ins like these days" and got a canned latte from the vending machine)

He never forgets to remind you that he doesn't care... sure, Swans, the dad energy definitely NOT palpable

Daisuke (Your #1 Fanboy)

Daisuke decides to “help” you cook one day

By “help,” I mean he’s hyping you up like you’re Gordon Ramsey while also lowkey getting in your way

“Y/N, you’re amazing. Look at how you chop those veggies, Bob Ross for foodies. You should open a restauran- no, actually, you should open a chain.”

“...Dai, the stove's literally barbecuing your shirt."

He panics, trips over his own feet and in one catastrophic motion, takes down a pot of soup, a chair, and somehow a shelf that wasn’t even near him

The room is wrecked. But before anyone can process, he just shoots up from the floor, finger guns and grins “DON’T WORRY. THE SOUP'S FINE.”

At this point, you don’t even question when this whole fanclub started. Probably cause you're the only one slipping him some sweets every once in a while (you're aware of the man's sugar addiction)

Having a personal hype man is great, even if he’s one accident away from taking down the whole ship

The whole crew's in pure chaos. What have you done to them??

Jimmy’s crush is LOUD, flustered, dramatic and side-eyeing Curly and Anya when they're standing within a foot of your proximity

Curly’s out here showing his 'captain privileges', but one compliment and he’s short-circuiting, probably off to “check the crew” (aka scream into the void)

Anya? Combusting at the slightest thank-you for the snacks and meds and also avoiding eye contact like it’s a sport

And Daisuke? Man’s your 24/7 cheerleader, yelling “YOU’RE AMAZING!” at 6 AM while trailing you like a puppy. The rest of the crew’s this close to losing it ’cause he’s stealing their thunder

Everything's unfolding while both you and Swansea watch side by side

The man sighed and muttered something under his breath. He’s got the tiniest smirk, though

“Yeah, these idiots are on you now.”

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moonstruckme · 9 months ago

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ok i have a request/idea: gf reader on tour supporting bf rockstar!sirius but she starts to feel homesick being on the road for so long <33333 just feel like sirius would be so comforting and caring

I feel the same babe! Thank you for requesting <3

rockstar!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Even after months on tour, you don’t understand why rockstars need to smoke indoors. You’ve found a corner of refuge in the stranger’s house, siphoning fresh air from an open window, but you feel for James, grinning and bearing it while he talks to another band that performed tonight and makes nice with groupies while showing off pictures of his girlfriend back home.

Part of you is still a bit awestruck that you get to go to these things, another part equally mystified at how routine it’s come to feel. During the first several nights of the tour, you’d been endlessly dazzled by the wealth you were suddenly surrounded with, the vibrancy of the people around you, the novelty of it all. The world had suddenly become so much larger, and everywhere you and the boys went everyone wanted to talk to them, buy you all drinks, invite you to parties and afterparties and after-afterparties.

Sirius bears it beautifully, like this was always his destiny—in a lot of ways, you imagine it was—but sometimes when the two of you are alone he’ll confess to still feeling giddy that he and his friends have made it this big. You wonder if it’ll ever feel normal for him, the hugeness of it. You can tell by now that it never will for you.

You’re still very impressed by the glamor of touring, you still have a good time on these nights out, but lately you’ve started to feel the distance between where you are and your real life. It’s almost as if before you could feel something invisible connecting you to home and, somewhere along on the road, it severed without you noticing. Now it just feels like a phantom limb, and when you try to recall the scent of you and Sirius’ kitchen or mime the way you have to jimmy your key to unlock the front door, you can’t manage it.

You’re still thinking of the scent of your kitchen when it sidles up next to you.

“You smell like garlic,” you tell Sirius, not without fondness.

“God, it’s that potent, is it?” Your boyfriend’s tone speaks to a chagrin entirely unlike him, and he corroborates its falsity by caging you in his arms and touching his cheek to yours. You don’t mind, as he knew you wouldn’t. “I was given a choice, gorgeous, and I took a gamble.”

“Mm. What was that?”

“Do you want to get out of here?”

You turn in his arms, tangling your fingers behind his back so you’re holding him as he is you. People start to give you a bit of berth, as one does for couples at parties, and selfishly you enjoy it.

Touring is non-stop motion, a blur of people and places and sounds, and you miss the slow, quiet moments you and Sirius used to have more of. You’re with him all the time, but it doesn’t always feel like it. It hardly feels like you’re with yourself. Not his fault, not anyone’s, but not ideal.

“It’s hardly one,” you say.

“Which means” —he drops his lips to your eyebrow, speaking loudly to be heard over the music but just soft enough to have goosebumps skittering down your arms— “the fast food places will be closing in an hour. Fancy some grease, my love?”

You tilt your chin up, pecking him on the lips. Truly, you don’t mind the garlic as much as you suppose you ought to. “Sure, let’s go.”

Getting to the door is a melee, several people stopping you to try and pull Sirius back into conversation or ask if you’re going to the next party and such-and-such’s place in a couple hours, but when you do make it out the noise deadens and the air tastes clean.

It’s a pleasant night, just cool enough to raise the hair on your arms and refresh your energy. Somewhere above you, the moon is hidden behind clouds, but still it’s bright enough that it casts a silvery glow in the areas not lit by streetlights.

You make it a few paces down the block before Sirius is fisting his hand in the material of your shirt, spinning you around to face him.

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?”

Only thrice between the hotel and when he went on stage. “No.”

“Liar,” he says lovingly, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You expect from his mood for it to be hot and indelicate, and you’d hardly have complained, but he closes his lips around yours softly. His hand loosens on your front, coasting upwards to cup your cheek, sweet and savoring.

“Garlic knots,” he says as he pulls back.

You’re unjustifiably breathless. “Hm?”

“That was the choice I had to make. One of Ricky’s friends heated up garlic knots, and I wagered you’d prefer kissing someone who tasted like garlic over someone who tasted like cigarettes.”

“It’s not just someone.” You grin at him, turning and taking his hand to keep walking. “I’ll always prefer kissing you. I would’ve done it either way, you know.”

You can hear Sirius’ smile in his voice, your favorite sound. “Yeah, but I chose right, didn’t I?”

“You did,” you confirm, and he gives your hand a triumphant squeeze. “I have no idea where I’m going, by the way. I don’t know why I took the lead.”

He hums. “Do you ever think you might have one of those honing instincts? Like, the way bees are to their hive, that’s how you are with fast food. My honeybee,” he says it drawn out and extra saccharine, knowing you’ll hate it, and laughs when you let go of his hand and make to walk away from him.

Sirius grabs for your hand back, tugging you close enough to get his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You don’t put up much resistance.

“You’re spot on, sweetheart,” he says. “I clocked a McDonald’s just a few streets down when we were driving here.”

A buzz of excitement goes through you. “Why are you so keen on McDonald’s all of a sudden?” Sirius is as happy with fast food as the rest of you, but you know he’s been enjoying the lavish meals the boys’ new manager pays for and having room service sent up at your hotel. “We can always have that at home.”

“You’ve been talking about milkshakes for a couple of days now,” he says, “and you’re getting quiet. I recognize that mood. I missed home last summer, too.”

“Really?” This is the boys' first big tour—they’ve already been on a shorter, less grandiose one you hadn’t come along for—but it’s hard for you to picture Sirius ever not enjoying it. He’s not someone who sets down roots, and with the way he talks about where he grew up you’ve never thought of him as getting particularly nostalgic for any sort of place. “I figured you’d feel most at home wherever James and Remus are.”

“Yeah, but we’d left you behind. I was torn in two, gorgeous.” Sirius’ tone is doing that weird thing where it’s teasing but not. You can hear the sincerity lining his words. He mashes a kiss into the side of your head. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

“Because.” You take his hand where it’s draped over your shoulder, your fingertips dancing in between his own. “It’s not the sort of mood I’d like to give into if I can help it, and I’d rather be here with you than at home anyways, so it’s pointless. There was nothing you could do, baby.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.” Sirius gives your fingers a playful squeeze. “You should always assume there’s something I can do, haven’t we been over this? Right now, I can get my girl a milkshake and some fries, and then I was thinking we could go find a park to eat them.”

That sounds so unbelievably nice. You turn your head to smile at him, and find he’s already looking at you with a similar expression.

“And if more things come up that would make you feel better, I can try to make those happen. How does that sound, lovely girl?”

You steal a kiss to his cheek, but Sirius doesn’t let you get away with just that, stopping to hold you in place so he can peck you properly on the lips. The neon sign of the McDonalds is close enough now to cast you in its glow.

“You woo me more every day, do you know that?”

“Yes, well,” says Sirius, wrapping his arm around you again to lead you the rest of the way, “I do have to prove myself better than home somehow, don’t I?”

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

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a singer!reader where she writes a super sexy song and the fans are going crazy because she's never written a song like that. she goes to some talk shows bc she has to promote the album of the song, and they ask her about it and if its about her boyfriend tom blyth!!!!

Never be like you || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

A/n: lowkey need Gracie to do a cover for this song bc I feel like her voice would suit it sm and I wanna see her do this type of vibe!!

Warnings: fem!reader, swearing

Wc: 719

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

“Our next guest, is a Grammy nominee for best new artist, performing her single never be like you for the first time, please welcome Y/n Abrams!” Jimmy Fallon announces as the crowd erupts in cheers. You take the stage, the crowd hushed in anticipation. The spotlight illuminates you, clad in a sultry ensemble that's a departure from your usual style

“What I would do, to take away, this fear of being loved, allegiance to the pain,” Your fingers wrap around the mic as you close your eyes. “Now I’m fucked up, and I’m missing you, He’ll never be like you,” The atmosphere shifted, and you began to sing the sultry lyrics in a way that surprised even your most dedicated fans. The audience was captivated, and whispers of amazement spread like wildfire.

“I’m only human, can’t you see? I made, I made a mistake, please just look me in my face, tell me everything’s okay,” Your hands, usually strumming a guitar, were instead in your hair as you tilt your head back almost in a sexual manner. The crowd, initially unsure how to react, soon becomes entranced by your unexpected venture into this new style.

The song's sensual undertones echoed through the venue, and you felt an electrifying connection with the audience. This style of song was something you’ve never done before. That’s why you really enjoyed producing it. It brought you out of your comfort zone; a deliberate choice to express a different side of yourself.

"How do I make you wanna stay? hate sleeping on my own, missing the way you taste," your voice, rich and alluring, wraps around the lyrics with a sensuality that catches everyone off guard.

"Stop looking at me with those eyes," a smile naturally played on your lips as you delivered that line, intentionally fixing your gaze on the camera, fully aware of Tom's watchful eyes. The lyrics, tailored to hit home with your boyfriend, spoke directly to his captivating deep blue eyes – the kind that always left you spellbound, and no amount of time together could diminish the flutter of nerves they induced.

"like I could disappear and you wouldn't care why, now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you, he'll never be like you," Backstage, Tom can't tear his eyes away. The way you command the stage, blending vulnerability with a newfound confidence, stirs something within him.

He had heard snippets of the song before its release, but experiencing it live brings a visceral intensity he hadn't anticipated. The lyrics, once a private exchange, now echo through the venue, leaving everyone captivated.

As the performance concludes, the audience erupts into applause, their astonishment turning into admiration. Tom approached with a grin, desire in his eyes, expressing his awe at your unexpected and alluring rendition. "That was incredible," he whispers, pulling you into a passionate embrace.

Word spreads like wildfire. Fans, accustomed to your previous style, can't believe the transformation. Social media buzzes with speculation, theories swirling that the song must be about someone special.

In a promotional interview, the host, with a sly grin, asks the question on everyone's mind. "Rumors are circulating that the inspiration behind your latest single is none other than your boyfriend, Tom Blyth. Care to shed some light on that?"

A coy smile played on your lips as you glance at the crowd, then back to the interviewer. "My supporters sure are smart, huh?" You giggle softly to yourself. "But, yes, it is about Tom."

"It's quite different to my usual style, but it was very fun to compose," You smile. The revelation sends shockwaves through your fanbase. Speculation turns into fervent curiosity, and they dissect the lyrics for clues about your relationship with Tom. Social media explodes, and you find yourself at the center of a newfound spotlight.

Tom, for his part, embraces the attention with good humor. During his interviews for "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes," fans playfully tease him about being the muse behind your provocative song. He takes it all in stride, admitting with a smile that he's flattered by the attention.

"So, Tom, we've all heard your girlfriend's new song 'Never be like you' and everyone knows it's about you. What are your thoughts on it?" the interviewer inquired, a playful glint in their eyes.

Tom chuckled nervously, a light blush creeping up his cheeks. "Well, it's certainly an interesting experience," he replied with a sheepish smile. "I'm flattered, to be honest. My girl is incredibly talented, and she expresses herself very well through her music, something I admire,"

As he spoke, his castmates, Rachel and Hunter, couldn't help but interject with mischievous grins. "Oh, come on, Tom! 'Interesting experience'? That song is steamy!" Rachel teased, eliciting laughter from Hunter.

Tom rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. "Alright, alright. Maybe 'interesting' is an understatement. But seriously, I'm incredibly proud of her. She was worried her new style of music not being a hit, but she nailed it."

The banter continued, but beneath the teasing, there was a genuine camaraderie. Tom's supportive words reflected not only his admiration for his girlfriend's artistic expression but also his pride in you.

As your relationship becomes a public fascination, the dynamics of your performances shift. Fans attend your shows not just for your music but to catch glimpses of the chemistry they've read about online. The narrative surrounding your love story becomes intertwined with your artistic identity.

Tom's become a regular at your shows, grinning from ear to ear as he watches you own the stage. Your private affair has gone all public, and now it's like you and him are this dynamic duo everyone's rooting for. The crazy twist in your music style? It's like you cracked open a whole new world for yourself, and at the same time, it's made you and Tom this inseparable couple in the eyes of your fans.

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konpeitonom · 2 months ago

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Could you do Daisuke relationship headcanons? Just any in general I’m not picky

general dating headcanons for daisuke.

sfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; screamed when i saw this in my inbox!! i have not gotten any daisuke specific requests, so i am happy to write for him… i hope i did him welll.. for context you are his girlfriend pre tulpar!

— i think he would have trouble committing to one partner.. he’s no cheater, but he’s definitely like.. a player. saw someone else on here talk about it and i couldn’t agree more. doesn’t mean he’s a bad person per say.. he’s still young and figuring things out.

— getting into a relationship with you however.. he didn’t wanna fuck anything up. he’d do research online on ‘what girls like’, ‘how to treat a girl right’ !! not like his mom didn’t teach him but he wants to go the extra mile, you know?

— i think he’s huge on gift giving.. similar to jimmy he gets you nice expensive things for special occasions (like. a 3 month anniversary. lol.) whether you like that kind of stuff or not. he’s just been told his whole life that’s what girls like! i think overtime though he’ll cater more towards your interests..

— he likes thrifting (canon) so i think once he gets a bit more comfortable with dating you, he’ll start picking up small items that remind him of you. like little trinkets or accessories and he’d be so proud like, “you like this? right? right? do you like it?”

— people say curly would be like a dog but daisuke i feel like is a fair comparison to that too.. he lives off you and your energy! and i can see him as the type to, not get attached quick, but when they do it’s like attached-attached, you know?

— i can imagine he has pretty traditional asian parents, who spoil him nonetheless.. when you first meet his mom he’s so scared she wouldn’t like you!! just be respectful and nice and all that, as long as her son is happy as she says..

— i headcanon that he also likes physical media a lot.. for his birthday you burned him a CD with all the songs that you felt kinda represented your relationship.. and he cried!

— hes rich, we all know this. but shopping for him isn’t hard. just sentimental things or mini figures of his favorite characters or maybe baking him something sweet? he loves all that..

— speaking of sentimental, he’d give you a cute nickname.. like clover, because he feels lucky to have you in his life. and that everything has just been perfect since you walked into it!

— his ideal date would be something like an amusement park, or the fair.. there’s so much for you two to do. and eat. sure it’s expensive but he doesn’t mind!

— that or just shopping.. he loves comic books and would be ecstatic if you guys shared that in common. hes the kind of guy that won’t shut up when he starts talking about something he loves. please indulge in that!! he’d be the happiest man alive.

— i think he’d like to draw too. once you caught him drawing himself as his favorite dc character, and he was so embarrassed he couldn’t look you in the eye for a whole day.

— even with all that, you’re his muse. he’ll draw you when missing you, draw you when you’re right there.. he has a sketchbook full of just his favorite characters and you beside his bedside when he’s on the tulpar.

— it’s a shame he’ll never be able to show you them!

#nomnompyon #mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing fic #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #daisuke mw #intern daisuke

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raya-hunter01 · 16 days ago

Text

What Are We? Pt. 2/2

What Are We?

Jey Uso X OC (Kayla)

Sefa

Roman X Jade

Jimmy X Trin

Rhea Ripley

Rating: 18+ Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, making up

Jey and Kayla have been friends and lovers for years. What happens when Kayla is tired of Jey asking for space instead of putting a label on what their relationship is. The script is flipped when Kayla is the one who asks for space and cuts off contact with Jey for six months, even moving out of the state.

What happens when Rhea, Bianca, and Trin invite Kayla to celebrate her birthday in Pensacola and Jey finds out? Can he finally admit he loves her or are they better off apart? This was requested by @royalkay23 kay-tale25 thank you for being so patient and I hope you like it Part one is below in case you missed it....

Part one----https://www.tumblr.com/raya-hunter01/756669353888563200/what-are-we-pt-12?source=share

Part 2

Pensacola, FL

Kayla's POV

“You might wanna slow down Kayla,” Jade warned taking my glass of champagne. “I ain’t had much, it’s cool cuz.” We went deep sea diving if you could believe that one. I always wanted to do it but never dared to do it.

“Look, I just know you when the alcohol takes over… Your mouth gets reckless.” Chuckling I looked around at my friends, my sisters.” I love ya’ll though so I ain’t got nothing to go off about.”

“Well, you might be mad when we get back to shore,” Bianca said as I rolled my eyes. “I already know that the guys are waiting for us,” I said as Trin looked at Jade.

“Don’t look at me, I ain’t said shit.”

“Sefa texted me, he didn’t want me to be caught off guard by Jey. I think whatever Jey has done he has roped Sefa into it.”

“Do you think Jey is telling the truth about loving you and ready to try?” Jade asked as I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t-”

“Cut the shit, you know Josh loves you, he’s just stupid as hell,” Trin interjected as Jade laughed putting on her sunglasses.

“I think you need to tell him what you want from him Kay,” Jade said as I rolled my eyes.

“He’ll be waiting till hell freezes over,” I said as Rhea sighed. “Look, just tell him you want him to tell Cameron where to go. I’m sure he will have no problem doing what you ask.”

“Rhea, he ain’t stupid…Jey, should be able to read the room and tell that desperate bitch to step the fuck off,” Trin said as I put my shades on.

“I shouldn’t have to hold his hand, he should know what to do. Right now he ready to crash out on Tama for showing me where the fuckin’ bathroom was but a whole ex bitch feels comfortable enough to show up to his house when she feels like it.”

“Or just being messy in general,” Jade added as I pointed at her. “Exactly! As soon as the bitch started posting he should have shut it down. I ain’t got time for that bullshit, show me you want me. Actions speak louder than words.”

“Ok, I see your point, but you know he loves you,” Bianca said not meaning any harm “Does he Bee?” I asked as she looked at me in shock before sipping her champagne. “Let me shut up before I get cussed out.”

“I ain’t mean it like that Bianca, it’s just hard to tell where Jey’s head is at…Hell where my head is at.”

“You love him and you miss him,” Bianca said as I looked out at the beautiful gulf.

“As bad as he’s pissed me off, I know he loves you,” Jade slipped in as I hid behind my shades. “You can’t hide forever girly,” Trin whispered as my text alert went off.

“Let me guess Loverboy?” Trin teased as I passed her my phone. “Nope, it’s Tama asking would I like to go out and grab a drink tonight.”

“Uh, no….Jey ain’t bout to kill us and plus we got something planned,” Rhea said before heading over to talk to our guide.

“How he got your number? Trin said passing me back my phone as I shrugged my shoulders.

“No clue, but I will text him and let him know it’s a no go. I ain’t got time for drama.”

Jey’s POV

“Man, you sure it’s a good idea for you to be here,. You could have stayed with Roman and helped him get the stuff at the venue for tomorrow,” Jimmy said watching the boat get closer to shore.

“I promise I ain’t gon’ pressure her, I just wanna see her. Look, I preciate ya’ll helping me get in touch with that florist to do the pool at they crib.”

“Well, he was happy for the business and I promise I’ll do my part if we make it to the party. You know how your mouth gets you trouble.”

“I will owe you one, I promise I’mm make it right.”

“You better cause’ I ain’t wit two of my favorite people not talking. Plus, ya’ll are good for each other,” Jimmy said I cracked a smile seeing the attendant helping the girls off the boat.

My baby looked good, Bianca’s picture didn’t do her justice and I wanted to ask why the fuck Tama was up under her post lurking but didn’t want to push my luck.

“Sefa, thank you so much,” Jade said walking over to give him a hug as Kayla cut her eyes at me.

Kayla’s POV

"I'mma heading to the van," I whispered trying to avoid Jey but i knew he would follow me.

“Why are you following me, Jey?” I asked annoyed and not wanting to argue.

“I ain’t following you, I just came with Sefa to deliver the package for Jade and I’m glad I did,” Jey said falling in step with me as I returned to the van leaving the girls with Sefa and Jimmy.

“Coulda’ fooled me, I ain’t got time for this Jey,” I said looking down at my phone seeing another message from Tama.

“Hopefully, I will see you tomorrow beautiful, enjoy your birthday.”

“Thank you, I will try to do that,” I responded as Jey kissed his teeth.

“Who is that blowin’ your phone up, is it that fool?” Jey asked trying to look at my phone as I held it to my chest.

"I caught his lil response to Bianca's post. What's up wit dat shit?"

“Don’t worry about it,” I whispered praying the girls would hurry up. I was ready to go get a nap before whatever they had planned for tonight.

“Look, I know it’s your business, I just wanted to give you this and to tell you that I will see you tomorrow,” Jey whispered kissing me gently on the cheek, and placing an envelope in my hand.

“Jey-”

“Open it when you’re alone,” he said heading back over to join everyone before I could answer.

The whole way back to the house I wanted to open it so bad, but I held off. The ride home was quiet after our little visit with the Fatu brothers. I personally think they knew I was pissed so they weren’t trying to poke the bear.

“So, I don’t want you to shoot the messenger but have orders for you,” Jade said as I sighed.

“What would that be?” I asked as we got out of the van heading inside the house. “Go get a quick swim before you go upstairs.”

“Why?”

“Look, stop being hardheaded and just go out back,” Trin said as I sighed heading through the kitchen.

“Well, it will have to wait a minute cause I ain’t mixing ocean and pool water together,” I said heading upstairs to grab a quick shower and change into my other swimsuit I bought for the trip.

I didn’t even get a chance to hit the top step. “Go back and get your envelope,” Jade said standing at the bottom of the stairs as I rolled my eyes but went back and got it.

“Damn, ya’ll bossy, ain’t gon' be too many more times of ya'll tellin’ me what to do,” I muttered grabbing the letter and heading back downstairs.

“Go and enjoy your swim. We’ll check on you in a few minutes and thank you for your cooperation, brat,” Trin said as something in the pool. What is that I asked walking toward the patio door as Trin laughed. "Go see.. I think you're gonna like it," she whispered walking away.

“Oh my god,” I gasped in awe going out on the patio and seeing the beautiful array of flowers in the pool, with a special message wishing me a happy birthday.

"Damn it, Josh," I whimpered overwhelmed by his kind gesture of love. I couldn’t believe Jey had done this, with the envelope still in my hand I went and sat at the end of the pool soaking my feet, just enjoying the moment.

I had to admit this was amazing, after looking around to make sure I was alone I opened the envelope he had given me.

Kay,

I know this doesn’t erase the pain I have put you through, but I just had to let you know that nothing will ever compare to you. I plan to spend this weekend and the rest of my life letting you know how much you mean to me. I wanted you to know that I love you and you’re worth it. We are worth fighting for and I won’t give up, enjoy your swim. Kay Kay.”

Love,

Joshua

“That little shit,” I chuckled wiping my tears as I felt a pair of arms wrap around me briefly before sitting beside me, Indian style. “You ok Kayla?” Rhea asked as I nodded trying to get myself together.

“He did all this,” I whispered in disbelief as she smiled. “Yeah, he did….You know it’s ok to be happy about what he did and it's ok to want to be with him, Kay .”

“I’m scared Rhea, I’m scared of getting hurt again. I love Jey, but I can’t keep getting my heart broken.”

“Kayla, he’s scared of not being enough and losing you. That is his truth and he’s not afraid to admit what he wants now.”

“So what do I do with that? I mean, so much has happened and Cameron is still ar-”

“You follow your heart and do what you feel. I promise, these last six months, he’s done a lot of growing up and I feel he’s finally serious. Kayla, you gotta really give him a chance to show you.” She responded as I lowered myself into the beautiful pool.

“I’ll think about it.” I sighed enjoying the water and playing with the rose petals.

“You know we will support you every step of the way. Now enjoy your swim in this beautiful pool, I gotta admit, Uce did good,” Rhea said standing up.

“I can’t believe he did this, but yea,….He did great.” I said looking around appreciating the time and effort he put in. Maybe he was serious about us being together and truly giving it a try this time.

“Hey, pose for a picture so I can send it to doofus and make it sexy boo.”

“Fine,” I sighed striking a pose. “Yea, show him them buns girl, we gettin’ you laid tonight; we’ll worry about the technicalities tomorrow.”

“Rhea, no I’m not!” I hissed breaking my pose. “Nice, he gon’ love that one.”

“Rhea, I’m not sleepin’ with Jey.”

“Why not? I’m serious, get you a quickie tonight, and go back to being mad tomorrow. Just let him know what you want and what it is. I know he won’t tell you no because he wants you just as bad.”

“That’s using him Rhea, I can’t do that.”

“Uh, yes you can because I guarantee he’s horny as fuck too, so you’re not using him. Ya’ll are technically helpin’ each other out. Familiar dick is better than random dick.”

“Bye Rhea,” I whispered going deeper into the water as she laughed heading back inside.

“I am not sleepin’ with him….I am not sleepin’ with that man.”

"Keep tellin' yourself that and maybe you'll believe it!"

---

Jey’s POV

I felt some hope as I talked to the girls and they were telling me about how Kayla seemed surprised with my first gift for her birthday weekend.

“So, did she really love it? I mean, do you think it was too much?” I asked Trin as she smiled. “It’s never too much to show someone how much you love them.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, she loves it and is currently swimming as we speak. That was smooth little brother,” she beamed into the phone as I found myself smiling.

“I’m just trying to let her know I’m serious and that I love her.”

“Well you’re off to a good start, and Sefa told Jade about your plan for the party and I already know I’mma be a blurring mess.”

“Don’t do it sis, I need you to help so I can’t have you falling to pieces on me.”

“I’ll try but I want you to be sure, because if you hurt her-”

“I promise I won’t…Aye, I saw on ya’ll itinerary it said concert. Who ya’ll going to see?”

“Usher!” Trin gushed as I rolled my eyes.

“Ush- You know what, just keep her- ya’ll stay safe,” I said stumbling over my words as I opened a picture message Rhea had sent me a picture message.

“Fuckin’ hell, Kayla” I whispered.

“You ok over there Jey, you looked flushed,” Trin asked as I cleared my throat. “I’m g-good, ya’ll be safe tonight and have fun and keep ya’ll location on cause’ I know how ya’ll get.”

“We will.” And with that, I left them to their girl’s night and myself to sulk about missing Kayla.

I know the picture was probably Rhea’s idea, but Kay participated and whether she wants to admit it or not we are breaking some ground.

My heart almost stopped as my text alert for Kayla went off.

“Thank you for thinking of me, this is so nice. I love it.”

“You don’t have to thank me baby, just enjoy your birthday and I’m glad you love it because I love you.”

“Jey, I just wanted to tell you, thank you. That is all."

“I’m just sayin’ how I feel and I’m willing to wait… No pressure and you are welcome, beautiful.”

"Talk to you later."

----

Later that night

Usher Concert

Kayla’s POV

“Don’t let me fall,” I squealed feeling a dip in the floor as the girls chuckled.

“We won’t just trust us.... You are going to enjoy it,” Rhea said a little louder as I heard more voices, and they seemed excited.

“Where the hell are we ya’ll?” I asked hearing what appeared to be a crowd as Bianca laughed finally removing my blindfold.

“OMG Usher! No fuckin’ way!” I screamed, looking around the arena.

“Surprise!” They all yelled. “Are ya’ll serious right now?” I squealed as Jade grabbed my hand showing me to our table for the evening.

“Yes, ma’am cause’ only the best for you, cuz.”

“Ya’ll I can’t repay ya’ll for this,” I cried as Trin hugged me. “Ain’t no pay back, we wanted you to have an awesome birthday and we gon’ make sure that happens. You just enjoy yourself.”

“Yea, let’s turn up one time for the birthday girl,” Bianca yelled as I squealed ready to party and enjoy the concert with my family.

And boy did we ever, the concert was amazing, and dare I say so were the drinks that had me kind of floating by mid-show. “Look! He’s coming over!” Rhea said excitedly.

There goes my baby….

“Oh my god, I’m too drunk for this shit!” I screamed as it seemed like everything was moving in slow motion as he sang the sultry tune coming closer.

“Girl, he’s looking at you,” Jade screamed as I looked at her in shock as Rhea took my drink.

“I don’t think you need this right now.”

“Hell nawl, and you betta dance bitch,” Trin said as he came up.

“ We got my ladies from the WWE in the house. Bianca Belair, Rhea Ripley, Naomi, and Jade Cargill in the house” he smiled giving them a hug. “I also heard it is your birthday Kayla," he said shooting me a steamy gaze as I blushed realizing they set my ass up.

“There goes my baby.. There she go, there she go,” he sang pulling me close as I began whining my hips, maintaining a respectable distance but doing my thang.

Hell, this was Usher, and I was single, I mean it's just harmless fun. It ain’t like I was going to take him home or anything.

Lovin’ everything you do, oouu girl look at you.

“You betta work bitch! Work him!” Jade screamed as we continued to dance as the crowd cheered.

“Jey is going to lose his shit,” I faintly heard Rhea say laughing as I saw a light from Jade’s phone. He probably will lose his shit, but right now I don’t care. Man, this is Usher….

I said Oouu girl, look at you…

Pinch me, I am really dancing with Usher as he’s serenading me. “Happy birthday Kayla,” he said giving me a hug before heading back towards the stage

“Ok…..Best birthday ever!!!!” I squealed covering my face with my hands jumping up and down with excitment.

---

Luv's Bar & Grill

Jey’s POV

“Aye, we supposed to be playin’ pool but you in your phone,” Sefa said as I frowned looking at Jade’s latest post live showing Kayla dancing with- I don’t even wanna say it.

"How the fuck they pull that shit off?” I muttered feeling my jealousy takin’ hold watchin’ my woman dancin’ up on Usher.

“Talkin’ bout Usher?......He’s a wrestling fan so it wasn’t hard for Jade to get the VIP section on the floor,” Joe said as I frowned seeing Trin had posted as well so I clicked on her story.

“Turn down for what, huh?” I said looking at Kayla posing in front of two drinks, obliviously drunk as hell. Man, I said keep her safe, that meant sober too, shit.

“Man, Kayla drunk as fuck,” I hissed as Jimmy laughed. “Well, it’s her birthday weekend and she rarely drinks, let her turn up if she wants. You know Rhea don’t really drink, she got her,” Jimmy said leaning over to look at my phone, seeing Trin’s post.

“I’m just used to being there when she does, I just get worried is all.”

“Look, I sent a car to get them an hour ago, we got everything under control, Uce.” Roman said as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Where they at now anyway, Kayla got her location off.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you for you to bother them, just know they good, and will be home in about an hour.”

"How you be cool with Jade, out here wildin.'"

"Easy, she ain't wildin' out, she's out having fun with her family and friends..I know that's my woman and I trust her. You'll understand it more once you and Kayla get back on track."

"Thanks, Dr. Phil."

I knew I should have held off, but I couldn’t help it. It didn’t help seeing a world-renowned superstar checking out the woman you love. So, I did the only thing I could and that was to text her.

Kayla’s POV

It seemed like Jey got to our location in under ten minutes, leaving me confused still trying to figure out how he got our location. We had stopped by a friend of Trin's that was throwing a party. I spotted Jade by the window smirking.

"Please, don't make that man get out of the car. I can see the steam comin' from his ears now. He just told me you're ignoring his texts now.

"You the one who dropped our location didn't you?"

"Hey, don't blame me...You told him you were horny, i'm just helping you both out."

"I just can't believe you told him where we were...Really, Jade?" I hissed seeing Jey opening the passenger side door.

"Uh, yea cause you was playin' wit dat man..Stop frontin' go talk that man and get what you need from him."

"Jade, go tell him I passed out, and to call me in the morning," I whispered as she scoffed. "Mannnn, gon' turn dat man the fuck out, and be done," she said opening the door. "Here she comes, Jey!" She yelled pushing me outside and closing the door behind me as I growled.

Then his fine ass standing beside the passenger door with a smirk wasn't helpin' either as I slowly walked to the car.

"Damn, I was bout to come get you," he said helping me in the car, making sure my dress didn't get caught in the door before he shutting it.

"Just calm your damn nerves, Kayla" I whispered watching him walk around the front of the car. "Damn him....He knows I love him in white," I groaned taking in his sweat suit.

"Don't know what you thought this was? Knowin' damn well i'm comin' when you tell me what you need. Don't even play wit me like dat," I heard him utter under his breath as he started the car.

Knowing maybe I pushed him too far, I sipped on my water not saying a word as he chuckled to himself. "Oh, after talkin' all dat shit, you wanna sober up now, huh."

"Oh, fuck you Jey," I whispered thinking he didn't catch it but he did. as we spun off.

"Oh that's what you bout to do...Fuck me real good so we can both chill the fuck out and work on our relationship," he said brazen as hell as I felt my pussy pulse and my heart race.

"Jey-"

"Nah, you been hangin' out, dancin' up on Usher n shit.. Twirlin' my ass and pussy round. Mothafucka lookin' at you like he wanted to fuck you right where you stood."

"Huh-"

"Don't play wit me...I saw Jade's live.. Yea, you was enjoying dat shit wasn't you, just blushin' n shit."

"Hell yea, it's Usher...Fuck you talkin' bout?"

"Kay-" Jey whispered gripping the steering tighter as I ignored him and kept talking.

"And pardon me, you talkin' about I was twirlin' YOUR ass and pussy around for him? Last time I checked all those things belong to me, sir It's my fuckin' body, especially when you were unsure of what you wanted when I was with yo' ass."

"Kayla-" Jey warned as I kissed my teeth on and kept right on rambling.

"Boy, that was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and like I told you I'm grown," I said with an attitude as we screeched to a halt at the red light.

"You love pissin' me off don't you?" Jey asked, leaning over and gently grasping my throat making me look at him as I moaned.

"Yea, this what you wanted ain't it? For me to be about my business, right? Stand on business right? Well let me tell you somethin', you my business," he whispered pulling me into a possessive kiss that left me a whimpering, complying mess.

"And yea you a grown woman...but you forgot the most important part.. You my woman, and I don't play bout you." The confession rendered me speechless as the car behind us blew its horn.

"Got me fucked up." Jey let me go and threw his hand up to the car before turning off the road.

Now one thing about me is I can back up the shit I talk. I ain’t neva scared but I was having second thoughts as we finally parked at the beach. We really needed to talk first. I froze as Jey opened his door and got in the back seat taking off his shirt.

“I-I-uh like your Explorer, it’s a 2025, right?” I asked as he smirked knowing I was stalling.

“Stop stalling, and come take a ride, Kay Kay,” he whispered patting his thighs as I involuntarily moaned, straight drenched at the thought of him being inside me again.

“Jey, maybe we shouldn’t, we still need to talk,” I sighed looking back at him hating to be the buzzkill casue what just happened at that redlight had me even more horny.

“We will but right now, we both need this. You told me what you wanted and I’m here to give it to you because I need it too.”

“Jey, it’s going to make it complicated-”

“No, it’s not cause’ I done told you, neither one of us is leavin’ Pensacola without us workin’ this shit out, Ma. I need you in my life.”

“Since when do you need me in your life?” I asked, wiping my tears as he reached up and pulled me onto his lap, making me look at him.

“Kay, I’ve always needed you in my life, and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, baby. I’m sorry, I couldn’t be what you needed me to be, but I promise, it’s just you and me."

“Why are you sayin’ this now after everything?”

“Because I know how it feels to lose you, and I can’t again. I swear if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

I wanted to hear those words for so long and I couldn’t believe it was happening. I wanted to be happy, but I needed to know about Cameron.

I needed to know the minute she made her presence felt again by trying to get in his head that he wouldn’t run for the hills.

“What about Cameron?” I asked as he reached up and kissed my tears.

“I want you, not her Kayla and I’m sorry I didn’t nip that shit in the bud when she first started trying to come back around. I should have never let her disrespect you.”

“That really hurt how you kept me in limbo, I loved-”

“Loved?! Jey interrupted getting irritated... "Kayla, I love you, and I know you love me. Can you just admit that first?"

He was right and forty years from now I would still love him..I had to stop running if I wanted this...If I wanted us to work.

“I do love you…..It’s just that it seemed like you didn’t care at all how quickly you would turn off your feelings and would become distant claiming you needed space.”

I felt his longing and I felt bad for bringing down the mood but I needed to know.

“I’mma be honest, I’m just so used to people always having an agenda and using me that I just always felt underserving of the love you’ve always gave me. I didn’t want to hurt you, like I felt I didn’t deserve of you.

“Jey, you are deserving, everyone is deserving of love,” I whispered hugging him as I felt him release the breath he had been holding as we held each other.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted you. How bad I wanted to be your man and how crazy it drives me to even think about another man touchin’ you… kissin' you…... Being inside you, when I know you are meant you to be mine. When I know you were made just for me.”

“ I definately understand after tonigh but Jey, I haven’t-”

“Look at me and let me finish, Kay,” Jey pleaded as I took a deep breath and looked at him, his hands caressing mine.

“I know you haven’t been with anybody else. I- I just wanted you to know I always wanted you, and it was nothing you did. I just had to navigate through a lot of shit, but I’m ready now.”

“You sure you’re ready now? Cause’ I don’t want my heart broken again, Josh. Why should I believe you now?” I whispered his declarations sobering me up as I caressed his face.

“Because I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life wit you.” he whispered our lips meeting in a slow hesitant kiss testing the waters, growing hungrier and more passionate by the milliseconds. “I need to see you,” Jey moaned pulling my dress down to my waist along with my bra, kneading my breasts.

“I need you so bad,” I moaned against his lips, as he lifted his hips, helping me release his aching dick from his confining sweats.

“I need you more,” he groaned, sliding my panties to the side anxiously lifting my hips, lowering me slowly onto his dick.

“J- Jey!” I screamed as he filled me, stilling my hips allowing me time to adjust. “I know baby, breathe. Take ya’ time, and get what you need, Kayla” he whispered as something primal inside me snapped.

“I need you,” I moaned swirling my hips as his eyes rolled back in his head as he leaned back spreading his arms wide across the seat giving me full control.

“Hell yea…Take what you need, I need you too….Yea, use daddy to get what you need,” he groaned as I leaned back locking my hands on his knees riding him. “You want me to use you, daddy,” I asked as he nodded in deep concentration, biting his lower lip.

“Yes! Fuck, you ridin’ dat dick. You missed me, didn’t you?” he moaned. “Yes, did you miss me?” I moaned, leaning forward and nipping at his bottom lip bouncing without care. I didn’t give a damn about the burning in my thighs as I rode him good and hard.

“You know I missed you, fuck just like that. Let daddy taste dem titties, It’s been too long,” Jey growled latching onto one the swollen buds greedily sucking as I gasped momentarily slowing down my ministrations, but he was having no parts in it as he began meeting my thrusts.

“Stop playin’ wit me…You said, you wanted to ride my dick till you squirted on it. Now do dat shit, ride dat dick and get yo’ nut, Kayla,” he ordered against my breasts as I cried out in pleasure unable to speak.

“You wanted control, and I gave it to you, don’t make me take over."

“Mmm, don’t you dare, it’s my birthday and I can do what I want.”

“I know, but stop playin’ wit it- oh fuck yea, that’s it baby,” Jey praised, groaning in pleasure as I readjusted, planting my feet on the seat, beginning to bounce faster. “Shit, dats it, get what you need baby, I’m right here.”

My juices coating his dick as tiny spasms began to trickle through my body. “Fuck, I missed you, so much Kay. Mmhm, I missed drowin’ in this good ass pussy.”

“She loves ridin' this big dick, that’s why she's so wet..Oh...Fuck you drive me crazy!" I cried seeing tunnel vision, chasing my nut.

“ And you luv dat shit...Fuck, I feel it comin’..Uh-huh, just listen," he moaned as my world exploded. “Yes! Oh god, yes!” I cried, the dam breaking, the force almost making me buck off of Jey’s lap as he held me in place groaning in pleasure as we shared a searing kiss.

"Fuck yea, Ma," he growled gripping my hips, thrusting me harder down on his dick as he fell over the edge. "Yea, get all," he growled cummin' inside me as I purred in satisfaction, greedily kissing and suckling on his neck leaving a mark of my own for the world to see.

"That was crazy," I whispered feeling a thousand times better.

“Yes, it was and now I don’t wanna let you go,” Jey moaned as we calmed down. My thoughts though overwhelming I knew what my heart desired. “Then don’t……Never let me go.”

---

Rhea’s POV

“Did Kayla text you?,” Trin asked as I ate my food trying to put something on my stomach.

“No, I ain’t seen her, but I know she’s good,” I said not being worried in the slightest knowing she was with Jey. And almost like clockwork the front door opened and Kayla entered carrying her shoes.

“Uh huh come on in here, creepin’ in the house at 4 a.m.," Bianca joked as Trin was taking her hair down.

“Why ya'll ain’t sleep?” Kayla whined as I laughed taking in her appearance. Yea, Jey knocked her ass out the frame.

“So, how did it go?” Trin asked as Kayla sighed sitting beside me grabbing a fry.

“It went ok, we talked it out,” Kayla said as I smiled seeing she was more relaxed and at ease.

“Really, and here I thought you were just going for him to knock the Mario coins outta you.”

“Rhea!”

“What, did he not?” Jade asked as Kayla blushed.

“More like I rode him through the night,” Kayla mumbled as we screamed, truly happy for them.

“Oouu shit! That’s what I’m talking bout boo, get yo’ man,” Bianca said as Kayla cracked a smile. “We even went to Waffle House and caught an early breakfast.”

“I was wondering where ya’ll was at, I saw his fuckin’ story. Ya, man looked refreshed and fucked out,” Trin said passing Kayla her phone.

“Oh, god I can’t with him,” Kayla said standing up and stretching. “Thank you, my beautiful sisters, for everything and for waiting up for me,” she whispered giving us each a hug before heading upstairs.

Yea, those two were going to be ok…I just knew they would.

----

---

Later that Afternoon

WWE house show

Kayla’s POV

“Girl, what’s up with your men fighting?” Jade said as I rolled my eyes.

“What are you talkin’ about? I ain't got no men...I'm just with Jey, and we're trying to figure that out,” I said not wanting to really deal with any drama but from the look on Jade’s face, it was about to be some.

“Well, I posted a little collage of us from early this morning and Tama commented, then Jey come on there basically calling him a stalker.”

“Are you serious, right now?”

“Girl, I shut my comments off before they got started but have you talked to Tama.”

“I told him I wasn’t interested so that should have been it.”

“I was just giving you the heads up.”

“Thanks, cuz. I don’t need either one of them to get in trouble,” I said grabbing a plate as we moved through the catering line.

Hearing the door open, I looked over just in time to see Cameron enter the canteen on her phone. “Girl, you’ll never believe who is here,” she said as Jade grabbed my arm pulling me towards our table.

“She ain’t worth it, Kayla,” she said as I sat down trying to tune her out as Trin, Jimmy and Jey came in engrossed in their conversation having no idea what they were walking into.

Then the bitch actually had the audacity to walk by acting like she was still talking on the phone. “I can’t believe she’s so desperate knowing all I gotta do is bat my eyes and Jey will stop talking to her. That’s’ my dick and she knows it.”

“Uh, excuse me, but do we have a problem?” I asked as she stopped, and looked back at me rolling her eyes.

“No problem at all, just ask Jey where he was all last night…He was with me all night,” she chuckled as I laughed.

“Oh, was he?” I asked as Jey made his way over to us with Jimmy and Trin in tow.

“Yea, he was…I rocked his world. Didn’t you see his post about me?” she lied as I nodded my head..

“What you doin’ over here Cameron?” Jey asked, moving to stand in front of me. I guess he was worried about her trying to jump me while I was sitting down but I wished a bitch would. I was still sitting cause I was waiting for her to act stupid and give me a reason to tag her ass.

“Oh, she was just telling me how she was with you last night but I find it hard to believe since you were knee-deep in me last night,” I said casually leaning back in my chair and folding my arms.

“Shit, it’s like that?” Jimmy whispered as Trin elbowed him in the stomach. “Not the time, sir.”

“Oh, it is cause’ I’m sicka her.”

“Look, your obsession with me gotta stop Cameron because it ain’t no us and ain’t been for years. Move on wit your life, I’m over the guilt trippin’ and you showin’ up to my crib when you please.”

“Jey, we have a connection you just can’t cut off. You can’t reduce us to nothing.” Is this bitch serious, you cheated on this man.

“Cameron, I tried to help you, but you just wanted to manipulate me. You wanted to see what you could get away with and how far you could push but enough is enough.”

“Jey, you late.....I clocked that tea from the beginning, that’s why I would get so pissed off when she would post shit or would come around.” Manipulative ass.

“Stay outta this Kayla, I liked it better when you were a quiet as a mouse. Look, Jey loves me and not you.”

“Bi-”

“No, I love Kayla…I’ve always loved her, and I’m done wasting time,” Jey said looking back at me smiling.

“Jey, you really trippin’ over her? ” Cameron asked as I stood up. “Ok, you ain’t gon’ keep talking bout me like I ain’t here. The old days are over, and wrestler or not, I’ll beat yo’ ass.”

“I’d love to see you try, skank.”

“Aye, watch ya mouth, that’s my girl and you ain’t gon’ disrespect her. So to answer ya question, yea I am trippin’ over her."

“Jey, come on-”

Look, I love Kayla end of discussion so you can move along,” Jey said cutting her off. I could feel the anger and embarrassment coursing through her veins, and I couldn't care less.

Jey was putting his foot down and I couldn't be happier as I felt Jade tug on the back of my shirt. I looked back at her as she quietly pointed towards Jey before making a muscle "I love a strong man girl," whispered as I snickered.

“Ugh, fine, whatever I don’t need this, I got a show to do. Enjoy my sloppy seconds, Kayla,” Cameron said as I looked back at her and smiled.

“Kay, just chill baby, it ain’t worth it,” Jey pleaded knowing this conversation could go left at any moment as I waved him off.

“I’m good, Jey. I’m just trying to figure out how I’m enjoying her sloppy seconds when I had you first…Like years before her. So, while she was swallowing you all up, she was eating all this good good,” I said with a small smile.

“Ugh! You nasty bitch..I-I-I-”

“I- I- I-…. Oh, you finally speechless, huh….Well, I have a question for you Cameron, how did I taste?” I asked as Jey cleared his throat. “Good as fuck,” he mumbled under his breath as I smirked having heard him.

“Fuck you!” she screamed before storming out of the canteen as Trin, and Jade busted out laughing.

"A'ight the party is over mind ya'll business," Jey announced to his fellow coworkers who were whispering among themselves.

“Oou, not how did I taste bitch?” Trin said as I shrugged my shoulders.

It was what it was i was tired of her shit...

Tama’s POV

“Damn, Jey ain’t letting Kayla out his sight,” I said as Jacob rolled his eyes. Cameron got her ass told off, but I can’t believe how easily Kayla apparently has forgiven Jey. I mean they were the talk of the damn Locker room when all that shit went down.

“Aye, mane….. Jey don’t play bout Kayla, and I don’t either so watch yo’self and stop while you ahead.”

“I just wanna talk to her,” I said watching them head towards the ring area.

“A’ight, but if she tells me you makin’ her uncomfortable, your ass is mine,” Jacob said as we got up to throw away our plates before heading towards ringside to go over what we were doing later on with Jey and Jimmy.

I knew I shouldn’t have but when we went down the aisle instead of getting in the ring I hoped over the rail and went to sit beside Kayla who was about five rows back talking to Bianca and Rhea.

“That was a good spot, ya’ll gonna kill it tonight,” Kayla said as Bianca and Rhea gave each other a high five.

“Ladies, it’s good to see ya’ll at work..Didn’t think ya’ll would make it from all the fun ya’ll had last night,” I said as Kayla looked at me strangely.

“Hey, Tama look, I don’t think this is a good idea to keep poking the bear. I know you know by now that Jey and I are trying to figure stuff out and I told you the other day, i'm not with the drama," she said looking at Jey, who had spotted me.

“Aye, what the fuck you doin’? You suppose to be in the ring wit us going over what we doin’ for the match, not in my girlfriend’s face.”

“Um, I didn’t know she was with you, Uce. My bad, Jey. Kayla, I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just wanted to tell you that you got options if it doesn’t work out,” I said boldly pointing between her and Jey before getting up and going to the ring as Jey cut his eyes at me.

Maybe I made it worse, but I had to let Kayla know that if he messes up again, I’m definitely willing to dry her tears. Do I have any regrets, not a damn one…

Were the Usos going to work me hard tonight. Probably… But at least Jey knows he’s got some competition now if he fucks this up.

----

The Overview Gulf

Kayla’s POV

The dinner party was beautiful and lowkey as I wanted. We had a lovely dinner, and Roman had even rented out the place so we didn't have to worry about people not invited intruding.

“Where did Jey and Sefa go?” I asked looking around opening the last of my gifts as Jade tried to change the subject.

“How are you liking the party?” she asked as I looked around the room at our family and friends having a good time eating and talking to each other.

“Ya’ll did awesome, and the food was great? Have you seen Jey?” I asked again as Trin shrugged her shoulders, walking off.

“Ok, now I know you're up to something, but I still love you!” I yelled as she waved walking towards the side of the stage. “Love you too, boo!” She yelled back before disappearing behind the stage.

“So are you leaving Savannah? You know Jey still has his old house her and one in Atlanta.”

“I’m going home, but Jey is flying out to Savannah to see me after Raw. We’re taking things slow; he realizes I need time and he’s willing to wait.”

“I’m glad ya’ll were able to talk and come back together, ya’ll are great together.” Rhea whispered giving me a hug as Trin came out on stage.

“Alright, I need the birthday girl up here off to the side of the piano for her last surprise,” she said as I looked at Jade. “What is she up too?”

“I promise, you’re gonna love it,” she whispered pulling me towards the front as I saw a large white thrown chair being wheeled out.

I saw Jey out the corner of my eye now dressed in all white button-down shirt and jeans, carrying a large bouquet of white roses.

“What are you doing?” I asked, nervously biting my lower lip.

“Givin’ my baby her flowers, can't a man in love do that?" he asked as I gave him a hug.

“Yes, you can and thank you,” I whispered as he gently kissed me on the lips. “Take a seat and enjoy.”

“Enjoy what, sir,” I asked as he smiled and sat down at the piano. Sefa then walked out with his guitar.

“No way,” I cried as Trin helped Sefa set up his microphone as he sat down to warm up on his guitar.

“I don’t normally do this and neither does my brother, but we wanted to do a little snippet of this song for you on your birthday. We love you Kayla and happy birthday.”

“Thank you and I love ya’ll too,” I cried wiping my tears as they began playing the opening cords of John Legends All of Me.

What would I do without your smart mouth?

Drawing me in, and you kicking me out

You've got my head spinning, no kidding

I can't pin you down

God, I can’t believe they did this. Sefa rarely sings in public and he was doing this for me..For Jey. I felt a tap on my shoulder and it was Trin who passed me some tissue as I silently bawled.

What's going on in that beautiful mind?

I'm on your magical mystery ride

And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me

But I'll be alright

Watching Jey in deep concentration as he focused on the keys made me smile. He always had a passion for music but his passion for wrestling won out in the end. Now singing, that was Sefa’s niche, he could play instruments and sing.

He once had thought about a career but instead went into the family business. He said he was too shy to sing in front of crowds but here he was in front of our friends singing his heart out for my birthday.

My head's underwater

But I'm breathing fine

You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

'Cause all of me loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

“I love you, don’t cry baby,” Jey whispered as I nodded wiping my tears. I know I must look a hot mess right now but I can’t help it.

Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you

You're my end and my beginning

Even when I lose, I'm winning

'Cause I give you all of me

And you give me all of you, oh-oh

Did I mention that I am having the best birthday weekend ever!!!

“Now, if you want to see the rest, you gon’ have to go watch John Legend live 'cause that’s all I could learn to play on the guitar on such short notice,” Sefa joked coming over and giving me a hug as I chuckled.

“It was perfect and thank you so much for everything,” I whispered as he nodded against my shoulder.

“I got you, sis……Now let me move, I can feel his eyes on my back.”

“You know your brother, don’t you?” I smiled, looking up and seeing Jey watching trying to patiently wait his turn.

“Aye, how you get a hug before me? Move.” Jey joked as Sefa let me go.

“Easy, I did the hardest work. Now if you’d excuse me, I need to talk to the girls.” The pep in his step letting me know whatever they all had planned was just beginning.

“What are ya’ll up to now-” I started as Jey cut me off with a passionate kiss. Don’t worry about that, just let me do my thing.”

“Yes, sir..I ain’t sayin’ nothing else.”

---

Later that night

Jey’s house

Jey’s POV

“How did you get Sefa to agree to sing?” Kayla asked as I opened the front door.

“It's my secret, just know he showed up to help ya’ boy cause’ you know I can’t carry a fuckin’ tune.”

“No, you can’t, but I love you,” she laughed as I helped her out of her shoes.

“I love you more, Ma…Now head upstairs I’m right behind you.”

“Yes, sir," she said with a mock salute still holding onto her flowers. Nervously I watched her as she headed towards my bedroom.

I really hoped she liked everything; we all had worked hard to put everything together at the last minute. I know me staying this weekend in Pensacola set them back, as they had their own plans for Kayla, but they helped bring my vision together.

"You know my heart is yours, right?” I whispered wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her close, gently kissing her temple. “ Yes...And my heart is yours too, always has been.”

“Good, now keep going, baby I got another surprise for you.”

“Wait, there’s more?” Kayla whispered as I chuckled. “Yea, it is so gon’ in,” I said urging her further into my bedroom. "When did you find the time to do all this?" Kayla whispered overwhelmed.

“Do you like it?” I asked as she nodded, choked up. Grabbing my phone, I snapped a quick picture as she looked around in awe. I wanted to have something to look back on of this special moment.

“Jey, it’s pictures of us,” she said looking at each of the photos attached to the ribbons, taking her time.

"I swear I didn’t know everybody had so many pictures of us through the years,” I said as she smiled looking back at me, blushin’.

“You are truly full of surprises, Mr. Fatu,” Kayla whispered looking around the room before the glow from the patio caught her eye.

“Jey, this is too much,” she said as I laughed. “It's never too much Kay, but I promise this is the last surprise tonight. Do you remember how I wanted to add on to my balcony?"

Kayla’s POV

“You didn’t? You really had a mini pool put in up here?” I chuckled putting my flowers down as Jey’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I did, and I want us to break it in.”

“Break it in, huh?” I asked curiously walking onto the balcony and seeing all the beautiful candles.

“Yea..I can’t think of a better way than wit my girl…..So, are you game? I hear it’s amazin’ in the water.”

“I’m always game,” I smiled, shooting him a bashful smirk as he kissed my shoulders, ever so slowly pulling down the straps of my dress. A groan escaped his lips as my dress pooled at my feet as I stood naked under his piercing gaze.

"I’ve been wanting to take that off all night," he whispered pulling me against his chest as I sighed relaxing as he worshiped my body.

“Happy birthday Kay,” Jey whispered, lowering his head and brushing his lips gently against mine as I moaned, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt as he made quick work of his pants and underwear.

“Mm, thank you,” I gasped. Our kisses became more needy and passionate as Jey slid his hands down my body. Lifting me up by my hips and letting me feel just how much he needed me as he carried me into the pool.

“Daddy's got you, baby,” he assured me as I writhed in pleasure. “Please, I can’t wait,” I moaned as my hips seemed to have a mind of their own as they bucked against him.

“I gotchu, but I need to taste you first,” Jey whispered against my lips lowering me onto the pool steps towering over me.

Jey’s POV

“Alexia, play Through the Night,” Kayla said as I smirked, my tongue teasingly swirling around each of her breasts taking my time as she moaned caressing my face. The sultry song intro filled the air as I smiled against her.

“Jey, baby,” Kayla gasped in desperation as I traced my tongue across her stomach and pelvic bone making me moan.

“I know baby.”

I know what you want

I know what you're thinking

And right now, I don't mind

Spreading her thighs wide, I licked my lips. “Mmm, I’ve missed this,” I groaned, closing my mouth over her clit as she gasps in shock entangling her fingers in my hair.

I'm tired of being alone

Way too much to drink

And I'm tired of wasting time

You know that love don't come easy

Her nails lightly scratching my scalp as she purred in pleasure pulling my head closer. “Fuck, yea, give it to me,” I moaned knowing it wouldn’t be long with the warmth of my mouth and the coolness of the water combined. Kayla’s senses were heightened, and she didn’t know what to do with herself. “You like dat? Talk to Daddy.”

“Jey, right there..Don’t stop!” she cried throwing her head back in pleasure as I hummed against her pussy, not stopping my ministrations as the water bubbled around us.

You know that love don't come easy

How do I know you'll never leave me?

Can you go for miles?

Feeling some things I ain't felt in a while

“Missed my pussy,” I moaned against her quivering body as her breathing became ragged. “I don’t want to cum yet,” she whined as I chuckled. “Too bad, 'cause’ you are...All.... night.... long......” I moaned sucking on her clit, flicking my tongue even faster against the sensitive bud.

“Oh fuck!” Kayla moaned; her hips arched against my face as I held her hips, refusing to let go. Her breathing was even more ragged as she grabbed my face in her hands and began to ride my face.

I think you should try (try)

Try to blow my mind (ooh)

Ooh

Think you should try (try)

To drive (drive) me through the night (ooh-ooh)

“Mmm, my baby tastes so good,” I groaned as she cried out. “Jey! I-I- oh god!” Kayla screamed as her orgasm tore through her like a freight train, her legs locked around my neck and her body jerked forward as she exploded before collapsing against the steps panting.

“You did so good, baby girl,” I praised with a satisfied smirk kissing her thighs tenderly before sliding back up to her. Our bodies now slick with a mix of chlorine and sweat.

Kayla’s POV

“I need you now,” I whispered against his lips as Jey picked me up, leaning me up against the wall of the pool. “Happy birthday, baby,” he moaned guiding himself slowly inside me as I clung to him. “Mmm, you take such good care of me,” I moaned as his hips snapped forward, bottoming out.

Rendezvous

Take time to catch a vibe with you

Take me up, love me deep

Make me weak with all of your mind

“Always…I gotchu O lo'u masina.” The Excitement igniting deep within us as our bodies moved against the water. The pressure slowing our lovemaking and overwhelming us of it’s power.

“Jey, mmm, baby,” I moaned as he hummed against my throat. “What you need, Ma? Talk to Daddy, you know he gotchu.”

“For us it to always be like this,” I gasped confessing my wish for the future.

Oh, you know that love don't come easy

How do I know that you'll never leave me?

Can you go for milеs?

Feeling some things I ain't felt in a while

“It's gon’ be better cause’ we locked in forever. I love you, Kay,” he rasped. His hands roaming over my wet skin as I relaxed fully surrendering to him. “I love you too,” I cried out, rocking my hips against his as our lips met in a desperate kiss.

The bubbles caressing our skin as the smell of lavender surrounded us. “I’m yours….Never forget dat,”Jey whispered as I leaned into him laying my head on his shoulder whimpering in pleasure. “Mine.”

“yes, and you mine….Tell Daddy how good his dick feels. You love me makin' love to you, don't you baby?.. I need to know, Ma."

His words ignited a fire within me as his thrusts became more powerful as I bounced, trying to meet his thrust. The beautiful sultry song confessing my wishes for our relationship. "It feels so good..So fuckin' good," I gasped.

I think you should try (try)

Try to blow my mind (ooh)

Ooh

Think you should try (try)

To drivе (drive) me through the night (ooh-ooh)

“I’ll will always try to blow ya’ mind baby, cause’ you blow mine…. I’mma always try,” he declared in a whisper making my heart swell as I fell even more in love with him.

“Mmm, you do blow my mind Josh,” I cried into the night air wanting the world to hear me. The coolness of the water had nothing on the fire burning deep within us.

“I want you to cum….Do it, O lo'u masina..Do it for me,” Jey cooed, my nails now clawing at his back and neck as I hung on for dear life begging him. “Deeper….mmm, harder.. Uh! Deeper, fuck Jey,” I gasped as each thrust hit me harder than the last.

“I feel you close, fuck you squeezin’ Daddy’s dick so tight. Just hang on a lil longer,” Jey groaned, close himself. I could feel the tension rising in him with each majestical swirl of his hips.

Jey’s POV

“I- I can’t hold it, much more,” Kayla moaned, her legs tightening even more around my waist. I could never deny her? How could I, the beautiful image of her about to cum never fails to not make my heart race.

“Let go, Ma…I gotchu.”

So that the only time that I ain't looking at it

Is when my eyes roll back

And you bring me to my knees

“Oh, fuck!” She cried as her eyes rolled back and her teeth sank into her lower lip. “Yea….Dat’s it..Let go, Kay,” I praised. Her pussy tightening around me even more blurring my vision as my ears began to ring loud and proud.

Gripping her tightly I drove into her hard and fast. “We gon’ make it work, you hear me?” I rasped. “We are,” Kayla whimpered.

Too good at pleasing me

And giving me just what I need

“It’s us forever…..Say it,” I demanded, capturing her lips in a possessive kiss as she whimpered at its power. “It’s us, forever,” she gasped as I released her lips.

Something primal seemingly snapped within me as her heels dug into my ass urging me to take her higher as her eyes never left mine. I had to make sure she knew I was serious about us being together.

“I love you, and this is just the beginning,” I whispered as she smiled through her haze. “I love you more, and I can’t wait.” Our breathing growing more ragged by the second as we lost ourselves in each other.

I think you should try (try)

Try to blow my mind (ooh)

Ooh

Think you should try (try)

To drive me through the night

The lavender scented bubbles popping against our skin, adding to the sensory overload that had us both overwhelmed as we climbed higher and higher. The candles casting a heavenly glow across Kayla’s beautiful face as she finally let go.

“I’m I- I’m!” Kayla screamed into my mouth as her body shook with pleasure as my own end washed over me like a tidal wave. “Kay, fuck yea, shit, you feel so good,” I groaned as the aftershocks of our lovemaking washed over us as I held her tight.

“Best…Birthday ever,” Kayla moaned as I sighed in agreement. “We got plenty more to spend together and I plan on making each one better than the last,” I confessed as she smiled brightly at me.

“We’re going to be, ok?” She asked as I caressed her face.

“Yea, baby…We’re going to be ok,” I reassured her, feeling her heart pounding against my chest. “You’re mine and I ain’t lettin’ you go.”

“Promise.”

“I promise, it’s just you and me….Forever.”

It's not just making love

I need you to blow my mind

------

The Next Evening

Pensacola Airport

“Call me when you land,” Jey whispered against my lips as I smiled.

“I will and you let me know when you get to the next city.” After such an amazing weekend it was hard to leave him.

“I will baby, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.” As we embraced, I was really tempted to change my flight and fly out with them for Raw..Like I a can’t act like the thought ain’t crossed my mind a couple times.

“Our flight is about to board….You gon’ have to let her go, Uce we gotta work,” Roman said as Jey sighed.

“I know…Don’t mean I gotta like it.”

“I’ll be waiting, go to work baby,” I assured him giving him one final kiss as we reluctantly parted going to different terminals.

The girls had an earlier flight and had left about an hour ago. Damn, this is the part I hate with a passion…Not wanting to leave… Sighing, I sat down and began looking through my pictures we had taken this weekend.

A few minutes later my phone rang startling me out of my thoughts as I smiled seeing Jey’s picture requesting a Facetime. "Boy it ain't even been 10 minutes," I smiled picking up.

“Hello, you missed me already," I joked as he smirked.”

“Actually yes, I did, so come meet me at terminal 12.”

“Jey, I wish I could, but they are about to call my flight in about 20 minutes. I wouldn’t get back over here in time.” I sighed in defeat really wanting to go over there.

“Don’t worry bout dat, I just bought you a ticket to come wit me.”

“Huh, Jey are you serious?” I asked in disbelief as he blushed…He fuckin’ blushed….

“Look, I just ain’t ready for this weekend to end, Kay…Just come to Raw wit me and then we can fly back to Savannah tomorrow night together.”

“Are you serious?”

“Kay, you should know by now that I ain’t playin’. Now don’t make me have to come get you,” he said holding up the extra plan ticket with a smile.

“Ok…let me get my bag,” I smiled as he seemed pleased with himself. “Hurry up, I miss you.”

“Damn, she got you whipped already…Sis, got dat ill na na, huh,” I heard Jimmy say in the background as Sefa and Roman laughed.

“Man, fuck you…I’m trying to spend some more time wit my girl, a’ight,” Jey said looking at Jimmy as I blushed.

“May bad, Uce…Kayla, you betta get over here…..Yo’ man losing his mind and he just saw you ten minutes ago,” Jimmy joked as Jey chuckled. “You heard my brotha, get yo’ fine ass over here.”

“I’m on my way."

Hanging up, I grabbed my bag and headed to meet the guys. I didn’t know what was next, but we were off to a good start communicating and putting each other first.

I got to spend my birthday with my family and friends. Jey is back in my life and I guess only time will tell if it lasts, but I know one thing for certain…..

Life was great right now and this was definitely the best birthday I’ve ever had.

Taglist:

@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl @melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo@arination99 @2-muchsauce

@bakugoumarianawrites @empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae

@anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld jeyusosgirl theninthwonder mya2real justazzi @whatdoeseverybodywant reignsboy19

wooahmiri alichesmi pytbgeezy @ superpietom

harmshake truefant4sy yana3sworld amandairene88

unapologeticqueen94 empressdede xbriexx tshepisho

thatgirlest98 zdotspinalot mainthingdoja jimingotthajams

rose-bliss mrswolffs-blog maeb99 jstarr86 nbanenefrmdao

sayyestoheav3nn digidestned heathetherlamont30 trashbin-nie

rebelrel0987 kriissy4gov brokenglassslippers headoftheetable

severenswife sayyestoheav3nn pittieprincess22 mindairy

jaded-human mainthingdoja mrswolffs-blog shamaness11 justarheaslut

#wwe fanfiction #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso fanfic #jey uso imagine #jey uso x reader #jey uso smut #jey uso fic #jey uso x fem reader #jey uso x oc #wwe fic #wwe imagine #wwe jey uso #wwe smut #wwe x reader #jey uso x black oc #wrestling fanfiction #wwe fiction #SoundCloud

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libraryofloveletters · 2 years ago

Text

History Book Repeats Itself

pairing: fernando alonso x reader

summary: looking up and looking down, it never felt so right.

author’s note: this is for the nando fuckers, even the ones on the lows. wife yn is giving supportive and y’all could never, she’s the superior wag - for @oconso

all photos are from instagram and/or pinterest :)

written in the photos series masterlist

youruser added an instagram story.

youruser

liked by fernandoalo_official, alpinef1team, lance_stroll and 139,543 others

youruser: goodbye alpinef1team 💙 - hello astonmartinf1 💚

tagged: alpinef1team, astonmartinf1, fernandoalo_official

view 721 comments

alpinef1team: we’ll miss you in the garage! 💙

comment liked by youruser

user14: I wonder how many green outfits yn can put together for next year

↪️youruser: already started shopping 🤣

fernandoalo_official: ❤️

user31: her using him getting out the alpine and into the aston so making me emotional like wtf

astonmartinf1: can’t wait to have you with us! 💚

comment liked by youruser

youruser added an instagram story.

fernandoalo_official

liked by youruser, felipedrugovich, lance_stroll and 323,833 others

fernandoalo_offcical: magic💚 astonmartinf1

view 1,882 comments

youruser: fuck yeah baby

comment liked by lance_stroll

user16: he’s never gonna retire now is he 😭

astonmartinf1: 💚💚💚💚

youruser

liked by pierregasly, fernandoalo_official, estebanocon and 127,534 others

youruser: just a little humble brag about my man 🤭 10 races in and 6 podium finishes, he’ll see y’all on the podium when they’re back on track for the second half of the season 💚

tagged: fernandoalo_official

view 890 comments

astonmartinf1: okay mrs. alonso coming in with the energy we need 👏

comment liked by youruser, fernandoalo_official

user31: her calling him her man is taking me outtttt even tho it is her man 😭

fernandoalo_official: te amo ❤️

comment liked by youruser

fernandoalo_official

liked by youruser, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 342,543 others

fernandoalo_official: mi vida ❤️ siempre tan solidaria, te amo siempre. (my life ❤️ always so supportive, i love you forever)

location: spain // tagged: youruser

view 1,463 comments

user00: yn always eats, no crumbs left ever. #bestwag

youruser: te quiero mucho!!!

comment liked by fernandoalo_official

pierregasly: how he bagged her, I’ll never know

↪️user16: pierreeeeee you’re not on your burner 😭

↪️pierregasly: oops 😬

am18: when will it be my turn!!!!

astonmartinf1: hottest couple in and out of the paddock

↪️ajimmyslife: that was supposed to be commented from this account my bad

user14:^this is why jimmy/aston admin is the superior admin

#written in the photos social media series #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x y/n #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au

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jambalaya-enthusiast · 28 days ago

Note

HERE IS ONE OF MY (DEADBEAT) BABY DADDY JIMMY THOUGHTS 😈😈

ALSO SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK!!

Okay let’s discuss.

You know that, as tainted and flawed as he is, Jimmy loves you in his own way.

But does he love you enough to step up for his child? Or is he too afraid of the consequences of his own actions?

The answer to that question is pretty clear.

Jimmy still wants you, needs you, even. Maybe he knows he won’t be able to find someone else to put up with all of his bullshit. But this child is among one of the last things he wants.

- To me, Jimmy isn’t a “went out to get the milk” type deadbeat dad. He was never really there for his kid and most likely never will be.

- He didn’t sign the birth certificate when the baby was born.

- He didn’t really get the chance, he wasn’t there when you went in labor or when your baby was finally born.

- And you’re a fool if you think he’s going to pay child support. (You probably give him more money than he gives you.)

-But despite not really wanting to see the child Jimmy still wants to see you.

Queue many unannounced and unwanted visits and angry whisper-yelled arguments through the slight opening of your new apartments front door. Jimmy seethes in these moments, the only thing keeping you from him is the chain lock that’s holding your door in place.

Jimmy would claim that YOU ruined the relationship. You ruined a good thing (HAHA) because you were too fucking stubborn to just listen to him (refusing to get an abortion).

You would lament about how he’s a coward that never took responsibility for his actions, and you weren’t going to give him a way out this time.

Though, mind you, Jimmy is nothing if not a manipulator.

If you’re weak willed it most likely won’t be hard for him to convince you to unchain the door and let him inside.

Maybe you’re still in love with him, despite everything.

Maybe you’re desperate, desperate to live out the stupid fantasy about the man he could’ve been.

Desperate to prove that the years you spent with him didn’t amount to nothing.

Well, desperation is the doorway to oblivion.

As soon as he hears the chain slide out from the lock and fall limply against the wood of the door he’s pushing it open and forcing himself inside with such force and speed that it nearly knocks you over.

And you don’t miss the speed in which he shuts and locks the door behind him.

A few things could happen at this point. The argument could continue much louder and physically at this point now that he’s in your apartment.

The fight escalates and he jolts forward. So close your noses are nearly touching. He raises his hands and they’re shaking. He wants to wrap them around your neck.

In this moment you recall something he once said during different argument. I would fucking kill you sooner than I’d let you leave me.

Or he could force himself on you. You beg him not to do this while the baby is in the next room but he pulls you down to the ground nonetheless. He covers your mouth, and pushes your head down onto the cold linoleum of the kitchen tiles. You can hear the shrill cries of your baby from here, they must have been disturbed by the ruckus. Jimmy doesn’t stop.

- You know Jimmy, and you know what he’s capable of. You tell yourself that you don’t want to raise a child in the environment he’d cultivate.

-But at the same time you don’t want to rise your child without their father.

- As the child grows, Jimmy is in and out of their life, as expected.

- When they are young, they adore their father.

- You’ll never see them more excited than when he comes over or when they can hear you talking to him on the phone. Though this might stroke his ego, Jimmy doesn’t return their excitement.

- And yet they still trail behind him like a little duckling.

- You MIGHT be able to convince Jimmy to agree to a supervised visit.

- If he wanted to see you, he’ll have to see his child, asshole.

- Your baby would be excited to spend time with their father! They’ve packed up some of their things in their little backpack and wait by the door.

- They wait and wait and wait.

- Hours roll by.

- He doesn’t show up.

- THIS WILL HAPPEN SO OFTEN.

- So many times you’ll have to comfort your child as the sky grows dark and they’re forced to come to terms with the fact that daddy’s just not coming.

- That’ll be around the time that their resentment for him and appreciation for you starts to grow.

I’m sorry if this seems disorganized or scattered brained!! (Or if Jimmy seems ooc) I have more thoughts/little drabbles if there’s any interest 😼.

oh. my. god. this is SO well thought out! and no this absolutely isn't disorganised, it's so well written! I love the dynamics of deadbeat daddy! Jimmy sm😭😭😭☝🏻

I have quite possibly gooned to this

PLEASE SEND IN MORE DRABBLES NOT ONLY FOR DEADBEAT JIMMY BUT IF U HAVE ANY OTHER IDEAS SEND EMM INN IM IN LOVEEEE

#have you considered joining the writing scene?#if not you should!#this is well made hello #jambalaya speaks #😺anon

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housethemd · 1 year ago

Text

One Life For Another

(What if Amber had been the one to survive the bus crash instead of House? Snapshots of Wilson’s life after House. Wilson/Amber, eventual House/Wilson. Just read and you’ll understand.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where’s House?”

Amber asks, shortly after her eyes open. Wilson smooths back her hair, thinking she’s just confused, concussed.

“Shh, you were in a bus crash. You’ve been unconscious for nearly 24 hours. You’re going to be okay though.” He reassures her, kissing her forehead.

“Where’s House?” She repeats.

That’s how they find out House was in that crash too. He’d forgotten his wallet at the bar, so he’d been taken to Princeton General as a John Doe. That’s why Wilson only got the call about Amber.

When Wilson gets there, House only has a few hours left. The damage is too extensive. He’d need multiple organ transplants to save him, and he qualifies for none of them because of his addiction. Conceptually, Wilson knows that House would be unlikely to survive regardless.

Amber checks herself out of PPTH AMA, refusing not to be at her boyfriend's side. House is in and out of consciousness, the high doses of Morphine he’s being given make him drowsy.

It’s 3am when House wakes up for the last time. He’s surprisingly lucid, and Wilson knows what that means. He’s seen it time and time again in his patients. It’s like the universe grants them one last chance to say their goodbyes, to make their peace.

“Always knew I’d go first.” House’s voice is rough and quiet. Wilson has to lean in close to hear him.

“Me too, I didn’t think it would be quite so soon though.” Wilson laughs through his tears.

“On the contrary, I think I’ve lived longer than I was supposed to.” House says.

Wilson knows he’s talking about the infarction. He always knew House felt he should have died then, but Wilson always tried to reassure him that it obviously wasn’t his time, and besides, misanthropic bastards are supposed to live forever, aren’t they?

“Oh Greg.” Wilson is starting to shake as he fights the urge to break down.

“S’okay Jimmy.” He soothes.

“Cut throat bitch.” He addresses Amber now.

“Yeah House?” She’s wiping her own tears away, watching someone die is always hard, especially when it’s someone your loved one loves so much.

“Take care of Jimmy for me, okay?”

She finds she can only nod.

They all know it’s time. No one wants to say it, but they all know.

“I love you, Greg.” Wilson says, squeezing House’s hand and leaning close.

“Love you too, Jimmy. You’ve been the bestest friend a fucked up guy like could have asked for.”

Wilson can’t respond through the sobs. House’s eyes are glassy and unfocused. Wilson leans his face on House’s shoulder. His friend is dying.

“See ya, boy wonder.” The words are drawn out and slow, as House says them with his last breaths.

The monitors alarm as House flatlines. Amber rubs circles on Wilson’s back as he sobs loudly into his dead best friend's shoulder.

———————

Wilson gives the eulogy at House’s funeral. It's an open casket. House’s parents had his body dressed in a dark gray suit with a white shirt and a black tie. Wilson hates that they put House in a tie. House always hated ties. They should have put him in a blue shirt, not a white one. He always looked best in blue, it brought out his eyes. Not that you can see his eyes now.

He talks about how House was a healer, how many lives he’d saved that no one else could. How he cared about people, but only when no one was looking. How much he’ll miss, how much he misses him.

He sobs quietly as they lower the casket into the ground. He doesn’t want to make a scene, but if he’s leaning heavily on Foreman, no one says anything about it. Amber never lets go of his hand.

Blythe comes up to him and thanks him, “For being such a good friend to Greg.” He thanks her, tells her that her son was a very special man. He doesn’t know how to tell her that for everything he did for House, House did just as much for him.

——————

A year goes by.

Amber encourages James to talk about House. She knows how important that relationship was to him, and she never wants him to feel as though she’s forgotten. She doesn’t want him to think she expects him to forget.

They buy a house in the suburbs. It has three bedrooms, a large backyard, and a massive living room. It’s perfect for housing a baby grand piano. Despite the fact neither of them can play it, James keeps it.

He kept all of House’s instruments, they were all incredibly important to House and James couldn’t bear to see them go; there was so little that was truly important to House. But while the guitars get put away in cases and stored, James wants the piano displayed. After the movers had left, James just stared at it for a while. Eventually he said,

“He used to play for me when I’d ask. He was quite talented. It was… nice.” Before he went back to unpacking boxes.

Three months after they move into their home, they go out for a night on the town and James gets down on one knee. She says yes, but also says she won’t change her name. No way will she be the fourth Mrs. Wilson.

That night she wakes at 3:30am to an empty bed and the occasional sound of piano keys. She pulls on the shirt James discarded when they tumbled into bed before she creeps just far enough down the stairs to be able to hear him without being seen.

“I missed you a lot today. I asked Amber to marry me. She said yes, but she’s keeping her name. Thinks ‘Mrs. Wilson’ is cursed or something. I know you’d agree with her.”

There is the sound of piano keys being played randomly.

“It won’t be the same. Getting married without you there. I know it’s silly, I’ve done this three times before, but it’s a big day and I wish I could have my best friend by my side.”

Amber creeps back up the stairs. She’s happy James talks to House. She knows his therapist suggested it, and she’s glad to see he’s listening.

——————

Their wedding is small. They end up not doing wedding parties because James can’t bring himself to have anyone but House as his best man. Amber doesn’t mind. At the reception they light a candle “for those who couldn’t be with us” but it’s really just for House.

———————

Eighteen months after their wedding Wilson is standing in one of the PPTH delivery rooms.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor doing the delivery announces.

As Amber dozes that night, Wilson cradles the small bundle that is his son. He looks down at him with awe. The birth certificate sits next to him on the side table, signed by both him and Amber. It reads:

Michael Gregory Wilson-Volkais

He’d been worried about asking Amber to name their son after House. But she’d only smiled at him, and said she thought Gregory made a lovely middle name.

———————-

“Dad, who’s that with you in all the pictures?”

Michael is ten, and they are flipping through a photo album Amber just completed. She insisted they include pictures from before they met, because she was in her mid thirties and he was in his early 40’s when they met, meaning they both had a hell of a lot of life before each other.

“That’s your Uncle Greg.” Wilson answers, as they all stare down at a collage of images of himself and Greg.

“But I thought you only had two brothers, Uncle David and Uncle Danny.” Michael says, confused.

“Greg wasn’t my brother. We met at a medical conference when I was 28, and after that he was my best friend.”

“If he’s your best friend, why haven’t I ever met him?” Michael questions.

Wilson lets out a deep sigh, putting his arm around his son.

“Because he died, Buddy. Before you were born.”

“Oh.” Michael hangs his head, clearly feeling bad. The boy was cursed with his father’s empathy.

“It’s okay. It’s nice to talk about him. Did you know you’re named after him? Your middle name ‘Gregory’ is after your Uncle Greg. Gregory was his full first name.” Wilson tells him.

Michael thinks that’s pretty cool, and they move on to other pictures in the album. That night however, Wilson sits down with a glass of scotch and the album. He sips his drink and reminisces about the moment each picture captures, and all ones that weren’t captured on film.

———————-

At sixty-five Wilson lies in a hospital bed. His wife of twenty-three years is on one side of him, and his twenty-one year old son is on the other. Dying of cancer isn’t how he pictured his life ending, but having family around him makes it somewhat bearable, or maybe that’s the morphine.

He hates to leave his son so early, but that’s the danger of having kids later in life he supposes. Michael is only in his last year of his undergraduate degree - premed. He wants to be an oncologist like his old man. Wilson wonders if watching him die of cancer will change his mind.

He’s said his goodbyes, and slowly light and sound fades away. Strangely, or maybe not, his last thought is not of his wife or son, but of Greg House.

See you soon, old friend.

———————

“Wasn’t expecting to see you for another twenty years at least.”

He recognizes that voice. As he slowly opens his eyes he realizes he recognizes his surroundings too. It’s a forest in upstate New York. He and House used to go backpacking here. They’d spend weekends camped out, cooking everything over their campfire and sleeping side by side in sleeping bags in a two person tent.

He finds the source of the voice seated on a tree stump, and there he is.

“House.” Is the only word he manages.

“In the flesh. Well not really, but you know what I mean.” House smiles and laughs.

He looks like he did the night they met, dark hair and unshaven face. Jeans and a band t-shirt under a leather jacket. Wilson looks down at himself and realizes he’s similarly dressed, his own jeans and McGil sweatshirt. He touches his face and realizes he’s also back to the age he was that night.

“I missed you.” He tells House. It’s true. He didn’t realize how much until right now.

“Come on Jimmy, walk with me.”

House takes him down a narrow path that leads them to a small lake. Wilson remembers it from their camping trips. The only difference is now there is a small cottage next to it.

“So, what have you been up to?” House asks. Like they aren’t dead, like this isn’t some strange afterlife they find themselves occupying.

“Not much. Married Amber. Had a son. Named him Michael Gregory, after you.”

They stare at each other for a moment before bursting out into stomach aching laughter. After they finally stop they wrap their arms around each other in a tight hug. They never hugged much when they were alive, but now it feels right.

“What got you?” House asks softly in his ear.

“Cancer.” Wilson tells him.

“Wow. That’s… ironic.” House says as they pull away.

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

They make their way into the cottage. House will give him a tour of it, and when the sun begins to set in their version of heaven they’ll lay down together in one bed without question.

In life they never seemed to get things right, and then their time together was cut short.

In death they’ll get it right.

#apparently we are doing sad angst today guys #i promise I’ll give you something happy tomorrow #house md #james wilson #hate crimes md #greg house #hilson #dr house #dr wilson #wilson x house #house/wilson #amber volakis #wilson/amber #house md fanfiction #hilson fanfic #amber/wilson fanfic

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