#You can have a bunch of best friends or just friends that pass along as you live your life
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they're your friends, your family, people you meet just once and never see again, people you see so many times but never utter a word to each other, your pets, your house, your favorite blanket, ect.
I think soulmates are real but they r made not found and also they are your friends
#I soully believe that soulmates are the things and people that you need the most#At any given moment#Like#I needed to talk to that person in Walmart#It made my day#We were meant to talk to each other#I was meant to stop walking and pet that cat#That cat was there for me to pet in that moment#Does this make sense#Yeah soulmates can be romantic#But you don'y just have one(1) soulmate#You can have a bunch of partners and still know that you needed each of them#Each of them could have been a super important chapter in your life that was necessary#Therefore they were your soulmates#Your soul needed to meet them and mingle in a certain way#Same goes for platonic relationships#Since I'm demiaro#You can have a bunch of best friends or just friends that pass along as you live your life#Just because you're no longer friends doesn't mean they're not your soulmate#Just means the thing that your souls were created to do together had ended#And I would go farther and say that everyone is your soulmate#But it's just the things and people that really stick with you#That you're always going to remember#Or forget but still feel in your chest#Idk I've had thoughts about this for years now
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but he’s the one I want
summary: All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch.
His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound.
pairing: DBF!Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller/College Student f!reader (no physical descriptions)
rating: E (18+!!! No y/n, DBF!Joel Miller, slightly possessive Joel Miller, pre-Outbreak, age gap, explicit consent, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, spit as lube, overstimulation, sex on stairs, body worship, slight body insecurity, getting caught, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, Die Hard is a Christmas movie debate)
word count: 11.5k+
a/n: Alexa, play “But Daddy I Love Him” by Taylor Swift. I don’t know where this came from (daddy issues), but I hope you enjoy it! Reader is freshly 21 in my head, Joel is 35 (it’s months before his birthday), and Tommy is 29. Let me know what you think! Big shoutout to @devineconjuring for going on this journey with me and betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Main Masterlist
Knock, knock, knock.
It’s a Friday night; the sky is dark, but the porch light is on. You hug your jacket a little closer to your body to stave off the chill in the air as you wait outside the front door for someone to answer it. A masculine voice calls out, "Comin’!" Footsteps thud on the hardwood floor as they head your way.
Seconds later, the door is cracked open, and you’re met with the home’s owner, Joel Miller. Just the sight of him in his jeans and navy blue t-shirt has your heart rate picking up in speed, the man looking as handsome as ever.
His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees you.
"Hey," he greets. "What are you doin' here? Shouldn't you be in school?"
University of Houston—go, Cougars!
You smile. "Three-day weekend—I have Monday off. I thought I'd surprise my dad since it's his birthday."
The confused look doesn’t disappear. "I coulda sworn he told me they were goin' to Vegas to celebrate a few days ago." ‘They’ being your father, stepmother, and your teenage half-brother.
“Well, I guess it slipped his mind to tell me they were going out of town. He must be getting forgetful in his old age.”
The relationship you have with your father is… complicated. It’s not bad by any means—you get along and love each other. He just wasn’t very present when you were growing up—he lived in Austin while you were with your mom in Houston, only seeing him a few times per year. Now that you have a car and your mom moved out of state last year with her new husband, you occasionally made the three-hour drive to your dad’s to visit and do your laundry free of charge. It was also where you now stayed on your breaks from school.
Joel opens the door a little wider and crosses his arms over his chest, your eyes moving from his face to admire the broadness in his shoulders and the muscles in his forearms. Having his full attention on you makes the nerves in your belly flutter around like a bunch of butterflies were let loose.
“He’s not much older than me,” Joel says. His eyebrow lifts. “Are you callin’ me old?”
The man in question happens to be one of your father’s best friends—or so you’ve been told. In all of the visits to your dad’s growing up, you could count the number of times you saw Joel on one hand. Over the past year that you’ve been coming to Austin regularly, you’ve had much more interaction with him, which has led to you developing a little bit of a crush. Who can blame you, though? He’s gorgeous—the chocolate-colored eyes, the hair that looks so soft, that perfect nose, and those kissable lips.
“If the shoe fits,” you reply with a shrug and a smile.
“Kids these days,” Joel grumbles under his breath, shaking his head. “Did you come by just to call me old?” he asks.
“Oh, no. I was expecting at least one person to be at my dad’s, so I didn’t bother bringing my house key. I’m here to see if you possibly have a spare I could borrow—I would’ve called, but I don’t have your number.”
Maybe he’d give it to you now…
“I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t.”
Hot and a sweetheart—how is he single? Is he single?
You frown, feeling annoyed that you drove all this way to Austin for no reason. You should’ve called ahead, but that was your mistake, assuming your family would stay in town for your father’s birthday. “This was a waste of gas,” you muse. “Love that for me. Well, it looks like I’m heading home, or maybe I’ll get a cheap motel room. Thanks anyway, Joel. Have a nice rest of your night!” You do a little wave at him.
You start to turn, but stop when he says, “Wait,” and you face him again. He opens the door wider. “It’s too late for you to be drivin’ all that way, and there’s no reason you should pay for a motel when I’ve got a guest room you can stay in. You can get a good night's sleep and leave tomorrow mornin’ when the sun’s shinin’.”
Again, a sweetheart—why hasn’t anyone snatched him up? Or have they?
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He finally offers you a friendly smile and moves to open the door all the way. “Yeah, it’s no problem. I was feelin’ lonely anyway with Sarah gone at a sleepover. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t my brother.”
Lonely? Nice to have some company? That sounds pretty single to you. Your night just got a lot more interesting. “Thank you so much! I’ll do my best to be better company than your brother.”
With that, you make your way inside, toeing off your shoes next to a pair of his work boots.
“That won’t be too hard,” Joel says as he shuts the door.
You stop in the entryway because you’re not quite sure where you should be going since you've never actually been inside his house. You only know where he lives because your father once asked you to drop something off here.
“Let me get your coat and bag.” You hand him your small purse, and he moves behind you, helping as you shrug off the long jacket you’re wearing, which he hangs up on a nearby coat hook with your bag. “Oh.” He stops in his tracks, and you look at him, seeing his widened eyes staring at your body. “Were you plannin’ on goin’ out tonight?”
You glance down at your outfit, and you can understand why he’d make that assumption at the sight of the cute little black dress you’re wearing—it only reaches mid-thigh and has a V-neckline to show off your breasts.
“Not going out—it’s laundry day. I do my laundry when I come to Austin, and this was literally the last clean thing I had.” Your eyes lift to see his glued to your chest, and you think that’s an interesting development. “I have spare clothes I keep at my dad’s that I planned on changing into.”
It’s the truth, and you’re a little thankful this was your last clean outfit. You can only imagine how embarrassing it would’ve been coming over here in a ratty old T-shirt, granny panties, and your Spongebob Squarepants pajama pants.
He clears his throat and looks away. A rosy blush appears on his cheeks as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I can put my jacket back on,” you tell him, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.
“No, no.” He meets your gaze, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s fine—do you need to use my washer and dryer?”
“You’re already being nice, letting me stay over. I can wash my clothes at the laundromat when I get home.”
“It’s really no big deal.”
“Thank you, but I’m good.”
“Okay.” His hands go in his pockets, and he seems to get very interested in the short console table against the wall, staring at the contents lying atop it—a stack of unopened mail and what you assume are his keys and wallet.
“So, what were you doing before I interrupted your evening?”
“Oh—” He looks at you again. “—I was watchin’ a movie. Would you like to join me?”
You smile. “Sure—lead the way.”
He takes you to the living room, where a movie is paused on the television, and lets you know you can sit anywhere. Your choices are one of two armchairs and a maroon leather sofa, and you choose the sofa while he heads for the kitchen.
“Would ya like a beer?” he calls out on his way to the other room. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond because a second later, he’s back at the doorway to the living room with a confused expression again. “Wait, are you old enough to drink…?”
The question makes you smile. “Yes, Joel. I’m old enough to drink.”
“Legally…?”
You giggle. “Yes. I can legally drink. You wanna card me?”
“No.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Beer?”
“Sounds great.”
“Okay.” He nods.
As you sit on the couch waiting, you become very aware of the situation you’re in. You’ve spoken to Joel one-on-one a handful of times over the last year, but it always happened at a barbecue or a holiday party—places where there were other people around—you’ve never been alone with Joel. This is new territory, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect, especially considering how he was staring at your chest.
Would you fuck him if given the chance? Yes, zero hesitation. Do you think you have a chance with him? Maybe, and that thrills you. Just two things are working against you: your age and the fact he’s your father’s best friend. Those are two hurdles you’re not entirely sure how to get over, but you’re definitely game to try.
Your conversations were always friendly in the past, and you’re proud to say you’ve made him laugh a few times. You think you could possibly charm him. What you know for sure is he’ll need to be very aware that you’re interested; otherwise, he won’t even fathom trying anything with you—thank god you’re wearing this dress. Nerves are swirling in your tummy at what could happen tonight, and you’re eager to see where things go.
Joel returns with two open bottles of beer, handing you one, and you thank him as he takes a seat right next to you. He leans forward to grab the remote and hits play before sitting back and taking a drink.
He’s so close to you that you get a whiff of his cologne—it has a spiciness to it and some citrusy notes that, when combined, smell amazing. It makes you think he took a shower when he got home from work today—and, suddenly remembering he’s a contractor, you imagine him shirtless and sweaty while using a hammer. The thought causes your mouth to go dry, so you lift your bottle to your lips for a sip, focusing on the TV.
It’s easy to figure out what he’s watching when you see Josh Hartnett in clothes from the 1940s.
“Pearl Harbor?” you ask, now holding your drink on your lap, picking at the label with your fingernail.
“Yeah.” His head turns your way, his beer resting on his thigh. “Have you seen it?”
Meeting his eyes, you answer, “Oh, yeah.”
He frowns. “Because it’s a girly movie?”
“Um, kinda? The guys are pretty easy on the eyes, and the story is interesting. I wouldn't say it’s super girly. Sure, it’s a romance, but there’s so much action and drama about the war in it.”
“The back of the DVD said nothin’ about it bein’ a romance.”
“Are you enjoying it, at least?” you ask.
He sighs and looks back at the television. “Yeah, I am.”
“Then enjoy it! If anyone asks what we watched, I’ll tell them Die Hard.” You lightly pat his thigh closest to you, feeling the muscles tense under your palm.
His gaze returns to you. “You’ve seen Die Hard?”
“Yes. A few times.”
Because it’s your dad’s favorite movie.
His upper body slightly turns your way, his arm going behind you on the couch. The closeness and the attention he’s giving you make your skin heat.
“I want you to settle somethin’ my brother Tommy and I disagree on—have you met Tommy?”
“Once.” At a barbecue. He didn’t catch your attention like Joel did. “What am I settling?”
“Do you think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”
“What…?”
“Tommy is fuckin’ convinced that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, and I say it’s just another action flick. A good one, but definitely not a Christmas movie.”
It takes you a second to process what he asked.
“I mean,” you start, “it takes place on Christmas Eve, at a Christmas party, and I’d say it’s a Christmas miracle that John McClane happened to be there to save the day. So, yeah, it’s totally a Christmas movie.”
“You’re fuckin’ with me. Just ‘cause it takes place on Christmas Eve at a Christmas party doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas movie.”
You point the neck of your beer at him. “You forgot John McClane being a Christmas miracle. Makes sense to me that it’s a Christmas movie.”
He takes a deep breath. “So, are you tellin’ me that—what the fuck is that movie called?” His eyes leave you as he thinks, trying to remember the name. “Lethal Weapon!” He looks at you again. “So, you’re tellin’ me that Lethal Weapon would also be a Christmas movie? Have you seen that one?”
Yep, with your father.
“I have, and yeah, it’s a Christmas movie. You’ve got drug dealers using a Christmas tree business as a front, Christmas is mentioned all throughout, they use a bunch of Christmas songs, and it ends at Christmas dinner. Absolutely a Christmas movie.”
“Say you’re messin’ with me, darlin’. You know what a Christmas movie is, right?
“Yeah, you’ve got the heavy hitters—It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, A Christmas Carol—then those stop-motion ones that are delightful. I’d put Die Hard and Lethal Weapon in the same category as Home Alone.”
“Why the hell do you think Home Alone is a Christmas movie?”
“It’s set during the holiday season, and there’s a ton of Christmas imagery and music. Plus, you’ve got Kevin going on a similar journey as the main character in It’s a Wonderful Life where, in the end, he realizes how much he loves and needs his family—sounds pretty Christmas-y to me.”
His jaw clenches, and it’s seconds before he inhales deeply and looks back at the TV.
“Son of a bitch,” he sighs, shaking his head. “They’re fuckin’ Christmas movies.” He takes a long drink of his beer.
You grin. “They are indeed,” you reply and pat his thigh again.
His bottle lowers, and he looks over at you. “Even though you somehow made a dumbass like Tommy make sense, you’re definitely better company than him. He’d never let me live this down.”
He’s visibly relaxed, and you have, too. The fact he’s enjoying you being there has calmed your nerves, and you’re having a great time talking to him. Plus, he’s nice to look at.
“Then it’ll be our secret,” you say. “Like how we’re totally watching Die Hard right now, and not—” Your eyes go to the TV, and they widen. “—the one sex scene in Pearl Harbor.” It’s nothing too risque and honestly kind of lame.
Joel looks, too. “They’re just rollin’ around on the ground…”
“It’s PG-13, Joel. I don’t know what you’re expecting from a movie where they can only say fuck once, and titties are prohibited.”
His head turns your way. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, and when your eyes land on his, you find that he’s smiling—your heart skips a beat.
“A good something or a bad something?”
“A good somethin’.”
You share his expression. “You’re something else, too.”
“A good somethin’ or a bad somethin’?”
“A very good something.”
His eyes darken, and suddenly, his attention returns to the movie. Joel clears his throat, then chugs the rest of his beer, leaning forward to set the empty bottle on the coffee table.
When he sits back, his arm is still behind you on the top of the couch, and he scoots the tiniest bit your way to have your bodies touching.
It’s clear that there’s a shift to the energy in the room, and the tension becomes palpable—he likes you, and you think there’s a possibility he more than likes you with how close he is. The thought has your heart pounding, and you’re unsure what to do next. You’ve only been with boys your own age, and Joel is so much older and more experienced.
The panic has you blurting out, “Are you seeing anyone?” Then, backpedaling, “Not that it’s any of my business, so don’t feel obligated to answer.”
He looks at you, and you keep staring at the TV, almost wishing the floor would swallow you whole.
“Why do you wanna know?”
“I’m nosy.”
He huffs in amusement. “You only wanna know ‘cause you’re nosy?”
“That’s what I said.”
“No other reason?”
“Can’t think of any.”
“Okay—no, I’m not seein’ anyone. What about you? You got a boy back in Houston worryin’ about you?”
“Nope.”
“Really?” The genuine surprise in his voice has your head turning to see the matching expression.
“What’s so shocking about that?”
He frowns. “I beg your pardon, darlin’. It just doesn’t make much sense that someone as pretty and fun as you doesn’t have a line of boys waitin’ their turn to take you out.”
Those butterflies in your stomach are flapping around again.
“Not really.” You shrug. “Plus, the guys my age usually only want sex but aren’t very, um, giving, if you know what I mean.”
Now he looks grumpy. “Selfish boys,” he grumbles, and it makes you smile.
“So, not an issue with someone older like you. Good to know.” You squeeze his thigh and keep speaking so he can’t reply, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you single?”
For some reason, he can’t look at you now, focusing on your hand. He reaches across his body to grab yours with his larger one, staring at your fingers. He lets out a long, weary sigh, his thumb rubbing against each of your dark blue-painted fingernails.
“Women don’t particularly like that Sarah is the most important person in my life and my top priority…”
“But she’s your daughter, she should be your top priority.”
“That’s the logic, but they want me all to themselves and don’t like sharing.”
“Joel?”
His face lifts to meet your gaze.
“Yeah?”
“You’ve dated some truly shitty women.”
He smiles. “I guess I have. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve given up on datin’. It’s just a waste of time.”
“That is such a shame.”
His dark eyes get even darker. “You’re trouble.”
“Why am I trouble?”
His eyebrow arches. “Your daddy would kill me.”
Your brain short-circuits for a second as you take in the statement—he’s into you, he’s really into you. Now, what are you going to do?
“Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask and move to put your beer on the table. When you sit back, you cuddle a little closer into his side. “You were worried about me driving home in the dark, so you offered me your guest room—we watched Die Hard, then turned in for the night. You’re a stand-up guy for keeping your friend’s daughter safe.”
His eyes move from yours to your mouth, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face—his palm is so big his fingertips almost reach the back of your head. He starts leaning in, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought that he’s going to kiss you, and you stop breathing when his lips are only a hair’s breadth away from yours.
And then he pauses.
“Tell me why you really came here tonight,” he rasps.
That confuses you, your brows pulling together, and you sit back to see his face. “I did? I needed to see if you had a spare key to my dad’s house.”
His eyes are on yours. “Bullshit—there’s no way this just happened to be the last outfit you had.” He looks directly at your tits.
“It is if you wait super last minute to do your laundry, and I told you, I have other clothes at my dad’s. Why do you think I came over here?”
His gaze goes back to yours. “With that dress you’re wearin’ and how you keep lookin’ at me, for a lot more than needin’ a key.”
“You thought I came over here to seduce you…?”
“Yeah…?”
“Wow.” You gently pat his cheek. “You think I’m way bolder than I actually am—me coming here and the outfit was not premeditated.” You shake your head.
His eyes round, and you’d think he was burned by how quickly his hand leaves you and how he moves away a little to put space between you. “Fuck, have I been readin’ this wrong?”
You scoot to have yourself against him again. “The assumption I came here specifically to seduce you was very wrong. But you’re right that I definitely want you to fuck me, Joel.”
“Shit,” he breathes out and scrubs a palm over his face. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.”
Turning his way, you rub your hand along his jeans-covered thigh. “No, I’m not,” you tell him. “Stop thinking, and kiss me.”
His hand lowers. “Not thinkin’ is gonna get me killed.”
“Not thinking is going to get you a blow job and pussy.” You press your palm between his legs over where you can feel he’s already hardening. “Hell, I’ll sweeten the deal—you can come anywhere you want.”
His eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you smile. His reaction makes you brave.
“Tell me you don’t want this, and we’ll go back to watching the movie and pretend nothing happened. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and we’ll go as far as you’re willing to go.” Your hand moves up to hold his cheek, and it’s a good sign when he leans into your touch as you stare into his eyes. “But I’m going to make myself crystal clear, Joel. I want you—badly. You’re beyond sexy, and the fact you’re older and have a lot more experience than me is a big turn-on. I’d love to know what good sex is like for once and maybe have you teach me some things.” You shrug your shoulder. “It’s up to you, though. Just know I’m more than willing.”
His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound.
This kiss is unlike any you’ve experienced before. You’re used to overeager boys practically shoving their tongues down your throat the first chance they get, yet here’s Joel claiming your lips—you can feel his every want and his desire for you with how thoroughly he kisses you. The soft pillow of his mouth moves with yours, his scent filling your nose—hints of the beer he drank and his spicy cologne imprinting this moment in your mind. Your eyes flutter closed, and your head goes dizzy from the arousal igniting in your belly.
Just one kiss and you know you’re ruined for anyone else.
His arms go around you, and he mouths at your chin. “Come here,” he says against your skin. “Get in my lap.”
You do as you’re told, bunching up the bottom of your dress at your waist and moving to straddle his thighs. His hands go under your clothes to grab your ass, and he’s so surprised to feel bare skin he leans back with the confused expression you’re becoming intimately familiar with.
“You really didn’t come over just to fuck me?” he asks. His palms wander, and you know he’s discovered your thong when he hooks a thumb under its stretchy waistband—they were the last clean pair of underwear you had.
“I really didn’t.” You’re curious about something. “But if I had, what are the chances that I would’ve succeeded…?”
“With this dress and a little convincin’? Pretty good.”
You smile. “Really?”
“Yeah. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and smart. I know this is a bad idea, and it’ll probably bite me in the ass later, but I’m so fuckin’ lonely, and you’re just too damn temptin’ to pass up.”
The truth is clear in his eyes and makes you kiss him—your fingers comb into the hair at the back of his head, finding it softer than you thought it’d be. It starts off slow and tender, just lips to lips, until Joel deepens it, the tip of his tongue making it past your lower lip. Hearing that he’s lonely tugs at your heart, and you want to do everything you can to make that loneliness disappear. Things start to heat up, and all you can do is follow his lead, moaning as he explores your mouth with his tongue. With his palms on your backside, he helps you rock your hips, grinding yourself against his hard cock beneath his jeans, rubbing your clit just right to fan the flames growing in your core.
When you finally need to come up for air, his hand grips your chin to turn your head as you pant, Joel kissing and nipping at your skin from the base of your neck up—tingles wash down your spine when he nibbles on your jaw. He gently bites your earlobe, and you gasp when his hot breath tickles your ear.
He huskily whispers into it, “You want me?” His hand fondles your breast.
“Yes.”
“I can touch you?”
“Anywhere.”
“I need you to be a good girl and tell me when you do and don’t like things—understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl,” he purrs.
The way those two words make your cunt clench has you moaning, ”Fuck.”
He easily unzips the back of your dress, tugging the garment up and over your head, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. You’re sitting astride his lap, the dark pools of his eyes taking in your mostly naked body, his big hands massaging your bra-covered breasts. It’s surprising that being under his gaze, you don’t immediately feel self-conscious, and you think that has to do with how he’s looking at you—the desire and appreciation clear as he admires you.
“Can I take this off?” he asks, nodding towards what he’s touching.
“Yes.”
He sits up straighter, and it’s quick work for him to get your bra off, it landing on top of your dress. He’s focused on your tits, holding them in his palms, weighing them. He leans forward, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and the sudden shock of pleasure has your breath catching in your throat, your fingers grabbing handfuls of his shirt for something to hold onto. When he grazes his teeth over the stiff bud, your entire body shivers—your panties have a wet spot from your pussy leaking your arousal for him. He gives your other breast the same attention, leaving your skin shiny from spit when he comes off of it with a wet pop to look at you.
“Lie down on the couch, baby.” He pats the empty seat next to him. “Your head all the way at the other end.”
He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You scramble out of his lap, the couch’s leather creaking as you crawl over to where he instructed and sit back on your elbows to see what’s happening. Joel grunts as he gets up to stand, watching in interest when he squeezes the noticeable bulge at the front of his jeans. His arm goes behind his head to grab his shirt, pulling it up and off of his body to bare his torso.
At seeing so much of his golden skin, your jaw goes slack—his freckled chest is so broad, tapering down to his trim waist, his abs showing a little bit of muscle definition you think is from doing manual labor and not working out. Your eyes fixate on the happy trail of hair below his belly button that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans.
“Sure could get used to you lookin’ at me like that.”
That has your attention snapping up to his face, where you find him smirking, and you close your mouth.
“Sorry,” you apologize, your eyes darting away from him.
“Nothin’ to be sorry about, darlin’. Makes me feel pretty fuckin’ great about the shape I’m in.”
You look at him again. “Hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re in great shape and so hot—you’re really down to fuck me?” You point at yourself.
He kneels on the sofa by your feet, his hand on the back of it to steady himself.
“Darlin’, if I didn’t know your daddy, and you were a stranger I met in a bar, I’d bring you home in a heartbeat. I feel like a real lucky son of a bitch that someone as young and pretty as you has any interest in an old guy like me.” He lifts one of your legs and gently kisses the inside of your ankle, the sweetness of it making you melt a little.
“Oh, I’m very interested in you.”
“Is that so?” he asks and spreads open your legs. He crawls over you, and you lie back, Joel nestling his hips between your thighs for you to feel how hard he is as he dips his head, kissing up the column of your throat—the nerves in your stomach flutter wildly.
“Yes,” you whisper and need to touch him, wrapping your arms around his torso to press your palms against the warm skin on his shoulders—his body shudders, a rumbling groan coming from his chest.
You squeak in surprise when his lips are suddenly on yours, kissing you hard.
He takes over all of your senses—he’s all you see, he’s all you feel, he’s all you taste, he’s all you hear, he’s all you smell. It’s him, and him alone—his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his weight on top of you. Your fingers thread into his hair, moaning as he takes over your very world, reveling in this feeling of being wanted.
His lips leave yours, both of you breathing a little heavier. His teeth gently sink into your chin before kissing along the underside of your jaw.
He speaks into your skin, his words muffled, “I’m very interested in you, too. I shouldn’t be, but I am.” His mouth ends up at your ear, and he quietly asks, “Can I eat your pussy?”
“Oh.” The question surprises you. “I’m usually the one who asks. Do you want me to blow you first?” There was always a quid pro quo when it came to oral.
His head lifts to look you in the eye.
“Darlin’?”
“Yes, Joel?”
“You’ve been with some truly shitty boys.”
It makes you laugh, and he smiles.
“Ain’t that the truth,” you reply.
“It should always be ladies first—may I?”
What a gentleman.
“Absolutely.”
“Good,” he says and pecks you on the lips.
He doesn’t immediately move off of you, and it catches you off guard. Instead, his mouth blazes a trail, kissing down your body—your neck, your chest, and your belly. This is when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head. Joel is getting up close and personal with your imperfections—your scars, stretch marks, cellulite, all those little details you normally kept hidden in the safety of dark rooms or under shirts when you hooked up with someone. Now, you’re basically naked, the lamp is on, and he can see it all, which makes you feel uneasy.
He kisses just above your belly button, then below it, going lower and lower until he places one last kiss on your panties, over your mound. He sits up on his knees, tracing the lines and curves of your thighs and hips with his large palms while he drinks you in as you lie there—you have to fight the urge to cover yourself, unable to meet his gaze.
The silence is broken when Joel speaks. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your eyes seek out his face where you don’t find any deception, but you have to ask, “Really?”
“Really.” He nods. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”
His attention goes to the apex of your thighs, and the pink of his tongue swipes along his bottom lip as if he’s imagining how you’ll taste. He strokes the pad of his thumb over the visible damp spot on your underwear, his other hand squeezing his cock that’s straining in his jeans.
“I bet you have the prettiest pussy, too,” he says, and gets his fingers under the elastic waistband on your panties, pulling them down and off your legs, the air cool against your now bared skin. He shuffles back a little, then bends forward, spreading your lips open with two fingers as his face hovers over it. You think your heart might beat out of your chest with how fast it’s thudding, your skin feeling so hot. “I fuckin’ knew it, such a pretty pussy,” Joel murmurs. He circles your clit with his thumb, and the pleasure has every muscle in your body tensing and your eyes closing. “You’re gonna taste so good.”
He loudly groans as he drags the flat of his tongue along your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.
“Oh, god,” you moan, your body squirming at how good it feels.
Joel has to pin down your hips with an arm across them to keep you still, his face buried in your pussy. He goes straight to the source, lapping at your entrance to taste your arousal while the tip of his perfect nose rubs against your bundle of nerves, his facial hair prickling your skin.
Oh.
Oh no.
You’re fucked.
It’s not even a minute in, and you can already feel your orgasm taking shape low in your belly, the muscles beginning to wind up. If you thought the first kiss ruined you, you know you’re ruined by how eagerly he’s eating you out—who knew this could be so good? You have to wonder how you’ll ever be able to fool around with anyone else when Joel is all you’ll be able to think about or compare it to—this is the only moment doubt invades your mind. You feel like this is all a mistake, but it’s quickly squashed by how unbelievably horny and curious you are.
His mouth lifts, and you whine at its loss. “Gimme a second,” he pants. “I gotta see how tight you are.” That’s when one of his thick fingers presses to your soaked opening, and he slowly starts to push it inside.
The slight stretch makes you gasp his name, your fingers clawing at the sofa’s maroon leather.
“Christ,” Joel says. “You’re squeezin’ me. With how fuckin’ tight you are, I’d think this is your first time.”
You sit back up on your elbows and open your eyes to look at him.
“You just have massive fingers, and it’s been a while.”
His gaze meets yours as he smirks. “Well, I’m gonna loosen you up with my massive fingers, and I think you’ll enjoy it.”
He doesn’t wait for you to respond. His head dips, flicking his tongue side-to-side against your clit when you feel the sudden pressure of his second digit pushing into you—there’s even more of a stretch and the delicious feeling of being full. You fall back on the couch, tangling your fingers into the brown waves of hair on his head, moans falling unbidden from your lips. His digits crook as they pump in and out of you, sliding along your upper wall when they press into something that elicits white-hot pleasure, making you keen and wiggle under the hold he has on your lower half.
Yeah, you’re totally and completely fucked.
He’s relentless with his mouth and fingers as you careen toward your end, free-falling in the throes of pleasure. He’s really going to get you off, and you think you might be in love with him. Is that crazy? Falling for the guy you absolutely should not fall for—that you can’t even have any kind of future with—because it’d ruin both of your lives, especially his.
Why does that make you want him more?
You definitely understand now why Eve ate the forbidden fruit—the temptation leads to such sweet gratification when you give in.
He sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth, sweeping his tongue around it, and you can hear the wet squelch of him fucking his fingers into your cunt. Your thighs are trembling—you’re so close, the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter until it snaps, and you’re coming with an unintelligible cry. Your body seizes up, euphoria exploding out from your center, radiating to your fingers and toes. Joel removes his digits, his tongue taking their place to catch every bit of your slick he can get, groaning as he lets no drop go to waste.
You’ve never come so hard, feeling a little floaty as you ride out your high, your chest heaving heavy breaths. With how shaky your arms and legs are, you’d think you were out in the freezing cold.
Joel’s mouth comes off of you and he sits up, rubbing his hands along the outside of your legs.
“Such a good girl for me,” he says. “Was it good?”
“Was it good?” you parrot back at him and push yourself up into a sitting position. “It was more than good, Joel—oh my god, it was amazing.”
The bottom half of his face glistens in the lamplight, his shiny lips turning up in a smile.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You still wanna fuck?”
“I think I will die if you don’t fuck me.”
He chuckles, and that’s all the answer he needs. He’s off the couch instantly, and you watch as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and gets his jeans undone, shoving them and his boxers down his legs so fast it makes you giggle. He’s balancing on one foot, peeling off his sock, and you finally get a good look at his dick—it’s hard and bobbing between his legs, the tip flushed red and shiny from precum, and your eyes round at how big he is.
“Second thoughts?” he asks, taking off his other sock.
Your gaze rises to his, seeing he’s frowning. “No.” You shake your head. “It’s more, ‘I sure hope that thing fits inside me.’”
He crookedly smiles, his chest puffing up a little. “It’ll fit—I promise.” And he has the audacity to wink at you.
Just as quickly as he got off the sofa, he’s getting back on it, kneeling in the space between your spread thighs. His attention is on your pussy, rubbing the tip of himself against your swollen clit and through your wetness. Nerves swirl in your belly, along with arousal, his free hand giving your hip a reassuring squeeze before he’s spitting on his fingers and slicking up his cock. He notches himself at your entrance, and your heart is in your throat as you hold your breath.
“Just relax, baby,” he says. “You can take me.”
He slowly starts feeding his hard length into you, making you gasp when the fat head breaches your slick cunt, your eyes squeezing shut, your fingers digging into the couch’s leather cushions. A groan rumbles from his throat, and you answer with a drawn-out moan as he burrows his thick cock deep inside you, your tight walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. Full doesn’t even begin to describe how stuffed you are—he’s hot inside you, almost searing, and you can feel him pulsing. He bottoms out and goes completely still, his hands on your hips in a bruising grip.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he rasps. “You okay?” His thumbs stroke circles on your skin.
“Yes.” It comes out as more of a squeak. “I just need a second.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Darlin’, baby, and now sweetheart when his dick is inside you? Is he trying to make you fall in love with him?
He bends at the waist, one hand on the couch holding up his weight while the other massages your breast, his lips wrapping around your pebbled nipple, the sparks of pleasure going straight to your pussy. Your fingers wind up in his hair; what he’s doing to you has you whimpering at how good it feels and only makes you wetter where you’re joined. He pulls each of your legs up to rest on his ribs while his mouth moves higher, kissing your sternum and up the arch of your neck, sucking on your pulse point and making you squirm underneath him.
His hands end up on either side of your head, his lips leaving behind a wet streak of kisses along the hinge of your jaw to finally ghost over yours—you can feel his breaths and smell your musk. He’s so close it wouldn’t take much more for your mouths to meet.
His nose nudges yours. “Need more time?” he whispers.
Enough has passed that you don’t feel as overwhelmed. You slide your palms up his back to his shoulders.
“No,” you answer just as quietly. “You can move.”
He pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in as his mouth claims yours, muffling your sounds when he sets up a rhythm of long, hard strokes. You’re gone—all rational thoughts go out the window, and the only thing you can think about is how his cock is moving in and out of you. It’s so distracting you’re having trouble kissing Joel back because your brain keeps screaming, ‘so big, so full, so good.’
You’re feverishly clutching at his shoulder blades, your nails leaving crescent moon imprints and scratches you’re sure will bleed on his golden skin, Joel moaning into your mouth. It surprises you when you feel the familiar tension of another orgasm making itself known deep in your core, the pressure rising with each thrust, the angle of them causing him to slide against spots you never knew existed, and you don’t ever want this to end.
His lips leave yours, pressing his forehead to your cheek. He’s breathing hard, sweat beginning to bead on his skin as he keeps the same pace.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he pants. “Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this pussy. Just wanna stay inside it until my dick is all it knows.”
Your legs are quivering, your body is burning up, and you can’t get enough of how fucking good this feels. One time—one time—and you’re addicted, you’re drunk on the pleasure and will do anything—anything—for this to happen again.
“It’s yours,” you gasp. “Oh, god, it’s yours!”
His lips move to your ear, huskily asking, “It’s mine, baby? Your pussy is mine? I’m fuckin’ ya that good?”
You’re so out of it and lost in the lust you start babbling, “Yes, it’s yours—fuck, ruin me,” you whine.
“That’s what you want, for me to ruin your perfect little pussy?”
“Please—make me feel it. Make me ache to have your cock inside me again. Make me yours.”
He growls, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s immediately pulling out, your eyes springing open in time to see him sit up on his knees.
His big hands grab hold of your waist. “Flip,” is all he says, and you find yourself getting manhandled onto your front, Joel tugging you up onto your hands and knees. He wastes no time sheathing himself back inside you, pushing in so deep that your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl.
Joel’s hips are flush against your ass, the full length of him seated all the way inside of you—you can’t think, your mouth open in a silent cry. He’s filling you to the absolute brim, and it becomes evident your cup has truly runneth over.
He was right, though. It did fit.
A shuddery breath escapes you. He only allows you a moment to get used to the new fullness before he’s pulling out until just the tip of him remains and snapping his hips forward hard enough it knocks the air from your lungs—this is how you learn what it’s like to really be fucked, and fucked good.
His fingers dig into the skin on your waist, pulling you back as he thrusts forward at a pace that has you lightheaded, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids each time he presses against that heavenly spot inside you.
Warmth grows in your belly, the sounds from the TV overshadowed by the filthy cacophony of skin hitting skin and the audible wetness of his cock working in and out of your used cunt—he’s grunting with each stroke, your moans stuttering from the onslaught.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.
It’s a struggle to gather your thoughts and form a response with how good he’s fucking you.
A palm lands on the side of your ass in a loud smack, the sweet sting causing you to clench around him and whimper.
“Answer me, sweetheart,” he says. “Is this what you wanted?”
All you can gasp out is a single word. “Yes!”
“Am I fuckin’ you good?”
“Yes!”
He’s pounding into you at a near-brutal pace, the fire inside you only getting hotter as each second passes.
“Look at me,” he orders.
It takes everything in you to turn your head and look over your shoulder. Joel is a sight to behold—a flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, the sweat on his skin making it glisten under the lamp’s light, and his hair sticking wetly to his forehead. His eyes are heavy-lidded and glazed over, his jaw clenched.
He slows, his gaze on yours.
“You wanna be mine?” he asks.
“Yes.”
The moment your answer leaves your lips, he’s blanketing your back, holding himself up with a hand on the couch, the other going under you to palm your breast and tweak your stiff nipple with his fingers.
He lightly bites your earlobe, his facial hair scratching your cheek when he kisses it.
“I’m gonna make you come,” he says through heavy breaths. “Then I’m gonna fuck you full of me—you want that?”
A shiver moves through you, and you gulp.
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
His hand smooths down your front over your stomach to between your legs, where he starts circling your clit with two fingers. It’s like a live wire along your spine, electricity sparking in your core—that added to the sensations of his cock splitting you open and pushing in and out of you has you rocketing toward your release.
“You gonna come for me?” His hot breaths fan over your ear. “You gonna let me feel you come all over my cock? Come on, let me have it—come for me.”
Joel’s bent over you, fucking into you harder and faster, his fingers deliciously swirling around your throbbing bud as he grunts in your ear with every thrust, all of it driving you higher and higher to your end.
You’re so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you falling over the edge—the muscles in your belly pull tight, your orgasm ripping through you, gasping Joel’s name. He sucks in a breath when your pussy clamps down on him, then loudly groans, continuing to fuck you through your high, and doesn’t stop—his fingers keep up their assault on your clit, and his hips snap into you in quick, short bursts that extend your high. You come, and come, and come to the point your arms give out, and your body shakes and twitches from all of the pleasure coursing through it.
When you think you can’t take any more, relief washes over you that Joel follows suit. With one last thrust, he buries himself all the way to the hilt inside you as he falls forward, his front framing your back, his teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder. He comes with a dirty, rumbling groan—you feel his dick thicken and pulse, hot spurts of his spend filling you. He grinds his hips, fucking it as deep as it will go, then stills.
The movie’s ending credits are playing, hearing the music and your and Joel’s ragged breaths as you both come down. He’s at the same awkward angle as you, with your hips up and your faces down—his sweaty chest is pressed to your back, your bodies sticking together everywhere they touch. It’s not the most comfortable position, but with how your limbs tremble, you’re not entirely sure you can even move.
You asked him to ruin you, and oh boy, did he deliver—you’re absolutely, positively ruined. It kills you that after whatever this night is, you’ll have to go back to subpar sex with guys who couldn’t find the clit if they were given a map and detailed directions. This is the second time tonight that you fear you’ve made a grave mistake hooking up with Joel, and the post-sex clarity is not helping the situation at all.
What were you thinking?
That’s easy; you weren’t. Or, at the very least, you weren’t thinking with your brain. Your pussy took the lead on this one, and it looks like she’s gotten you into a bit of a situation.
Your thoughts are interrupted when Joel’s arm wraps around your middle, and he turns you two onto your sides, the couch just barely wide enough to fit you both.
“Tha’s better,” Joel slurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. His hand over your stomach feels around until he finds your smaller one, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest—oh, he’s cuddling with you. It’s unexpected and nice. You close your eyes and enjoy this taste of intimacy.
Many minutes pass before he mumbles something you can’t make out.
“I’m sorry,” you start and are immediately embarrassed by how hoarse and scratchy your voice sounds from all the sounds you made tonight. You clear your throat and try again, “I’m sorry—what did you say?”
He turns his face so it’s out of your hair.
“I asked if you wanna stay over,” he says.
You smile. “Are you getting forgetful, Joel? You said I could stay over when I got here.”
“Fuckin’ smartass,” he grumbles, and you giggle. “What I meant was, do you wanna stay in my room? With me,” he clarifies.
“Only if you’re okay that I sleep naked—I’m not wearing my dress to bed.”
“Was kinda hopin’ you’d be naked.” He kisses your shoulder. “But if you’re more comfortable wearin’ somethin’, I can get you one of my t-shirts—it’s no big deal.”
“It baffles me that you’re single.”
“Why?”
“Uh, because you’re incredibly sweet, amazing in bed, a great father, very handsome, hardworking, and just an all-around catch. If I had the opportunity, and you know, there wasn’t the elephant in the room—” The fact he’s much older than you and one of your dad’s best friends. “—I’d date you in a heartbeat. If you ever give dating a shot again, you’re going to make one lucky woman very happy.”
“Fuck,” Joel groans, letting go of your hand to press his palm to his face. “What the hell am I doin’?”
That makes your stomach drop, and you frown—he’s regretting everything, and you can’t blame him. The post-sex clarity is a real bitch sometimes.
“Stressing for no reason,” you reply. You’re pretty sure you can walk, so you get up from the sofa, ignoring how wobbly your legs feel and his come leaking down your thigh. “Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask, looking toward the floor for your clothes. “You let me stay the night ‘cause you were worried about me driving home in the dark.” You carefully bend down to pick up your thong, followed by your bra and dress. “We watched Die Hard,” you continue, straightening to stand. “Then turned in for the night to our respective bedrooms. You’re a real stand-up guy for caring so much about your friend’s daughter’s safety.”
You can’t even look at him, focusing instead on the TV where the Pearl Harbor DVD’s menu is on screen.
“Stop that.”
���Stop what?”
“Tryin’ to pretend nothin’ happened.”
“You clearly wish nothing happened, so nothing happened—where’s the bathroom?” You need to clean up, and you’re tempted to just leave altogether.
“Up the stairs, second door on the right—when the hell did I say I wished nothin’ happened?”
“You didn’t have to. Your ‘what the hell am I doin’?’ was enough for me to get it.” You hug your clothes closer to your body. “Anyways, thanks for tonight. I think I’m just gonna use the bathroom and get out of here. I don’t want you to worry, so I’ll stay at that cheap motel by the highway.” The sign said it was twenty-something dollars a night, and you can swing that. You start heading toward the stairs.
“Hey, stop.” You don’t. You keep walking, willing the unshed tears in your eyes not to fall.
Why are you so upset? You’re well aware that this can only be a one-time thing. It was something fun and sexy where you got to fuck the older, unattainable guy you’ve been crushing on for a while. It wasn’t anything serious, and couldn’t be anything serious, because there’s no future for you two together. Not when he’s a good friend of your father’s. That kills any chance of having a relationship with Joel.
What hurts is he regrets it and wishes it never happened—you’re a mistake, and who wants to be someone’s mistake?
His heavy footsteps sound behind you. “Darlin’, stop,” he says again, and you continue ignoring him. Fingers latch around your bicep and lightly tug. “Please, stop for a second. Talk to me.” Finally, you do as he’s requested, standing still in front of the staircase. He turns you to look at him in his big brown eyes, his hands holding your arms.
“I don’t wish nothin’ happened,” he says. “You were talkin’ about how if things were different, you’d date me, but since they are the way they are, you won’t. I was thinkin’ to myself ‘what the hell am I doin’ wishin’ you’d change your mind,’ when I know it’s for the best.”
“Oh—really?”
Hope swells in your chest, butterflies fluttering around in your tummy.
“Yeah.” He nods. “Tell me you want nothin’ more to do with me, and I’ll grab you a towel and some of my clothes so you can wash up and retire to the guest room unless you’re truly set on stayin’ in a motel. In that case, I’ll pay for your room somewhere safer and much nicer, so I know you’ll be okay. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and I’ll take you up to my bedroom so we can shower, either together or separately, whatever you’re comfortable with. Then we can get into my bed where we can talk and figure things out.”
It sounds like he doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing, either, and that makes you so happy you let your clothes fall to the floor to throw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. Joel groans, his arm sliding behind your back, hugging you closer to him, his other hand cradling your cheek. Suddenly, he’s backing you up until your heels hit the first step, and he guides you to sit on a higher one, Joel kneeling on a lower stair to be at the right height that his hips slot between your thighs when he lays you back. He licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.
With how good he made you feel tonight, how wanted, you need more of him. There’s a looming fear in the back of your mind that this is too good to be true—that you’ll never be with him like this again, which makes you desperate for him. Your hand snakes its way between your bodies, taking his half-hard cock into your palm, slowly stroking it—a low rumble comes from the back of Joel’s throat. He gets his hand to the juncture of your thighs, sliding his fingers through the puffy lips of your sex, gathering your arousal and his come on his fingertips to rub at your swollen clit.
“You’re mine,” he says into your lips.
“I’m yours,” you answer.
This is how you end up fucking on the stairs, Joel thrusting into you at a pace that has your toes curled and your fingers gripping his ass—your spine tingles from his mouth exploring your neck, mapping out the spots that make you gasp and moan, and you’re in heaven.
A door slams shut on the other side of the railing, and your eyes fly open.
“Hey, Asshole!” a man calls.
Joel’s hand covers your mouth, and you watch the intruder walk through the dining room to the kitchen without seeing you.
“I brought over pizza so you can stop bein’ a sad and lonely sonofabitch!”
Joel immediately pulls out and gets off you, using his strength to help you flip over. “Upstairs,” he whispers, tapping you on the hip, and you go as quickly and quietly as you can with Joel following.
You make it to the second-story landing, and he grabs your hand, tugging you all the way down the hall into what you know is his bedroom by how it smells like him. He closes the door and locks it before beelining to his dresser, roughly pulling out one drawer from which he grabs a burgundy t-shirt, then another that he gets a pair of stretchy gray sweatpants.
“Is this a dress?!” Is yelled from downstairs. “Do you have a girl over?! Who’d wanna fuck your sorry ass?!”
Surprisingly, the clothes in Joel’s hands are not for him; he shoves them into your arms and ushers you over to his bathroom.
“I’m sorry,” he says, flicking on the light, the fan automatically turning on. “It’s Tommy. Stay in here, and I’ll kick him out.” Obnoxiously loud footsteps are coming up the stairs, and he has to take a deep breath, his eyes to the sky like he’s praying God will smite his brother right this second. “Lord, give me strength,” he breathes.
“Where would you even meet a girl?!” Tommy asks from the hallway. “All you do is work—you never go out.”
Joel pecks you on the lips. “I’ll be right back—stay in here,” he tells you again, and this time, he leaves, shutting the door behind him.
There’s banging on the bedroom door, and your ears perk up as you put on the clothes.
“Go home, Tommy,” he says.
“Not until I know who this pretty dress belongs to.”
“Give me that—it’s none of your fuckin’ business. Leave.”
“Come on, Joel—we know the same people. Did you finally give in to Nikki? She’s wanted to go out with you for a long fuckin’ time.”
“No, and it’s still none of your fuckin’ business who I have in the house I pay for. So, get goin’, or I’m gonna make you go.”
“You can be a real dick, Joel. Why are you bein’ so fuckin’ secretive?”
“Do I ask about who you take home from the bar?”
“No, but—”
“Exactly,” Joel interrupts. “I don’t give a fuck what you do in your spare time, and I sure as hell don’t need to tell you what I do in mine, so leave, Tommy—I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”
“With how fuckin’ grouchy you are, I don’t think you got laid at all—I’m gonna get goin’ ‘cause you clearly need the company of a woman. Bye, mystery woman with the pretty dress hidin’ in Joel’s bathroom!” he yells. “Hopefully you can cheer this fucker up! Enjoy the pizza!”
It goes quiet, and you think Joel left the room, too. You can’t go anywhere, so you decide to take in your surroundings—the bathroom is cleaner than you’d expect from a single man, you have to put the toilet seat down when you pee, and as you’re washing your hands, you notice there’s only one toothbrush in a cup.
You know you shouldn’t snoop, but you pull open the medicine cabinet and find an extra tube of toothpaste, some Tylenol, Ibuprofen, a thing of pain relief cream, then a shelf with a few medicine bottles that intrigues you—prescription pain pills, antidepressants, and heartburn medication. No red flags, but you’re a little worried about how much pain he’s in. You close the cabinet, and soft knocking on the bathroom door makes you jump.
“You can come out,” Joel’s muffled voice says. “He’s gone.”
Walking over to the door, you open it, Joel leaning against the doorframe in a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants he must’ve put on before talking to Tommy.
He sighs. “So, that was my brother.”
“Seems nice—if I remember correctly, he’s younger, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That explains how annoying he is.”
He smiles, and an amused huff leaves him. “Yeah, he’s annoyin’ alright.”
“We have the house to ourselves?”
“We do—I walked him out myself.”
You grin. “Wonderful.” You grab a fistful of his shirt. “Because I think you said something about us showering together, and I’d like to do that right now, then go eat pizza—I’ve somehow worked up an appetite,” you tell him and pull him forward; he happily comes your way with a smirk.
“Worked up an appetite, huh?” he asks, his eyes on your mouth.
“Yes. No clue how.”
He closes the distance, his lips almost touching yours, when he replies, “Let me remind you how,” and kisses you.
An hour later, you’re walking down the stairs clean and in your borrowed clothes.
“Can we eat then go to bed?” you ask, through a yawn. “I had classes today, and that long ass drive, plus all the sex. I’m so damn tired.”
Joel’s behind you in just his sweatpants.
“I’m fuckin’ tired, too. That sounds good to me.”
The only lights on downstairs are the lamps in the living room. You walk into the dark kitchen, Joel flipping on the light as he follows, and you head for the stove where the pizza is, popping open the box to see it’s pepperoni.
“I’ll grab us some plates,” Joel says, rubbing your upper arms. He kisses the top of your head before stepping over to a cabinet.
Turning around, you’re about to ask Joel where the cups are when the dining room light comes on, Tommy standing by the switch. You gasp in shock; Joel’s immediate reaction is to grab a knife from the knife block and get between you and the unwanted visitor—it takes him a second to recognize it’s his brother.
“Goddammit, Tommy!” Joel shouts and slams the butcher knife onto the countertop. “Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?!”
“No,” his brother answers, shaking his head, and he looks a little too amused. “But you sure the hell are! Her?!” He points at you and has the audacity to laugh. “Oh, god, Joel,” he says through his glee and grabs the back of a chair, his other hand on his chest as he chuckles. “Her daddy is gonna kill you—you’re fucked!”
Joel sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, perching a palm on his hip. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says. “I’m a dead man walking.”
“You are!” Tommy calms down, and his shit-eating grin annoys you. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” he asks. “I mean, I know what you were thinkin’. I just can’t get over you not only robbin’ the fuckin’ cradle, but bangin’ your best buddy’s daughter. How long has whatever this is—” He gestures at you both. “—been goin’ on?”
“It just happened tonight—I don’t need you lecturin’ me on right and wrong. I know it’s a fucked up situation.”
A fucked up situation? Ouch. The comment has you crossing your arms over your chest, staring at the floor.
“Fucked up is right, and I’ve got no fuckin’ idea how you’re gonna get out of it. Her daddy finds out about this, and he’s gonna shoot you deader than dead.”
“I told you I didn’t want you lecturin’ me.”
Tommy puts his hands up. “Hey, I’m not lecturin’. I’m just statin’ the facts. I wanna make sure you know this thing between you two could get you killed. You’ve got a daughter, Joel—what would you do in this situation?”
“Woah,” you interrupt, moving to stand beside Joel—Tommy’s comment about Sarah is a fucking nuke you need to try and hopefully defuse. “First of all, I just want to point out that I am a consenting adult and can fuck whoever I want. Second, I need to set the record straight and say that my dad isn’t going to kill anyone. He’ll be mad as hell if he finds out, but he isn’t going to commit murder because, truth be told, he’s never given a fuck about my life choices. I’d also like to add that this is kinda his fault for not having me visit more often because now Joel and I are pretty much strangers, and this whole thing isn’t as bad as it sounds.”
“It’s still pretty bad, honey,” Tommy replies, his attention turning to you, smiling.
“Maybe, but it’s also nobody’s business who I fuck.”
“Sure, but this person you fucked is one of your daddy’s best friends whose—no offense—way too old for you.”
“Why does everyone keep callin’ me old?” Joel grumbles.
Tommy looks at his brother. “‘Cause you are, you old man.” He suddenly looks like he just realized something. “Wait a goddamn minute,” Tommy says. “Joel, are you havin’ a midlife crisis? You’re around the age people have those, right? It’d make sense why you’d risk your life to fuck her.”
“Get out, Tommy,” Joel replies, pointing toward the front door. “I’ve had enough of you.”
His younger brother pouts. “‘Cause I called you old?”
“Out.”
“Fine.” He slowly starts walking toward the hallway that leads to the front door. “I’ll get out of your hair so the two of you can enjoy the rest of your night. Bye!”
The door loudly closes as he leaves.
Well, you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen now. Between the comment about Sarah and the other things that had been said, you wouldn’t be surprised if Joel ends this. You might as well cut your losses and get it over with to save yourself from more heartbreak.
Your eyes are on the ground, the first tear falling down your cheek. “After all that, I know whatever this is is probably over,” you quietly say. “But is there a chance I can still sleep in your bed with you tonight? And if you’re willing, have you hold me?”
He turns and pulls you into his arms.
“Yeah, you can sleep with me,” he answers and kisses your hair. “But I’m gonna need you to stop.”
You lean back to look at him with watery eyes. “Stop what?”
A sad smile is on his lips. “Jumpin’ to conclusions without talkin’ to me. You’ve already got one foot out the door, and I haven’t even opened it.”
“It’s just everything Tommy said.”
He lightly squeezes your biceps. “Tommy was bein’ a little shit. You were right when you said this isn’t as bad as it sounds, but you gotta be honest with me about somethin’.”
“What?” you ask.
His hands come up to hold your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have fallen. “Are you positive your daddy won’t kill me? I’ve got Sarah to think about, and even though I like you a lot, I’m not gonna risk dyin’ to be happy.”
The sweetest man and the best father.
You think about it for a second, and the sad truth is you can’t imagine your dad killing anyone for you—he doesn’t love you that much. He doesn’t love you to the same degree that Joel loves Sarah. With how easily Joel grabbed a knife to protect you, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d kill for his daughter without hesitation.
“He’ll be pissed off, but he isn’t going to kill you. We also don’t need to tell him anything unless this turns into something. We can keep it to ourselves for now.”
He hums in agreement. “You know, if you wanted, you could start comin’ here to do your laundry...”
You smile. “How will you explain that to Sarah?”
“That I’m helpin’ you out, which is true. Plus, I’ve got the guest room.”
“Uh huh, the guest room that I’ll sleep in?”
“Yes.” He nods.
“Alone?”
“I sleepwalk.”
You snort. “Stop it.” You playfully push his chest. “Sarah is not gonna believe you sleepwalked into the guest room.”
He snatches your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. “Who said anythin’ about Sarah knowin’ I’m in the guest room, or you bein’ in my room for that matter, while she’s sleepin’? There are also nights like tonight she spends with friends.”
“You really want me to hang out here?”
“Yeah. It’s nice to have company that isn’t Tommy.”
“I believe that. As long as I’m not a bother, I’ll do my laundry here.”
He smiles. “Not a bother, and you can wash your clothes tomorrow and stay another night. You could even stay over Sunday, too, since you have Monday off—you’re more than welcome.”
You loop your arms around his neck. “Yes, Joel. I will spend my long weekend with you.”
He leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “Good.”
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#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller/reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#wheresarizona writes#joel miller fanfiction
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hi, could you write a drabble with reader x remus where she rlly struggles with getting involved or going to hang out with people without explicitly being invited (just feeling really worried about being rejected) and he kind of reassures her and looks after her?
hi, thanks for this request! hope you enjoy, i generally don't write school-aged drabbles but thought this fit the best.
summary: your fear of being rejected stops you from joining your friends, but remus reassures you
remus x fem! reader (implied early stages romance)
Sitting by one of the fireplaces in the Gryffindor common room, you’re wondering how many of the people around you have exchanged glances over the top of your head. You can almost feel judgement thickening the air, raised eyebrows and confused smiles that ask why is she even here? To be honest, the only reason that you haven’t moved away is that you were technically sitting here first, and the rest of them milled in and took their spots nearby- then again, was it purposeful, your taking a place on one of the sofas they often use? In hindsight it’s just embarrassing. They must be assuming that you sat down just so they’d have no choice but to talk to you.
You know you’re expecting the worst of this group, none of whom particularly deserve it. The flock of seventh-years surrounding you are generally a good bunch; Lily, Sirius, Marlene, Mary, Peter, James, Remus, and Dorcas,. You want to be one of them more than you want most other things, which is somewhat pathetic and completely obvious in the way you’re always hanging around. They may all be lovely, and your friends (to some extent), but you know how irritating it can be if there’s always someone not quite in the group hanging around.
You should leave. Get up and make some comment about homework, or whatever, and wait for absolutely nobody to stop you. It’s kinder to everybody. Isn’t it?
Lost in your thoughts, you miss what Lily says next, and then they’re all getting to their feet. You give what you hope is a casual smile, simultaneously relieved of your spiralling and disappointed that they’re fulfilling your expectations.
There’s a tap on your shoulder- Remus, your favourite, whose hair has grown out over Christmas and now curls over his ears. He seems to get taller and lovelier with every passing moment. It’s difficult to make eye contact.
“We’re heading to the greenhouses, did you hear?” He says quietly, hand stilling instead of pulling away. You press your lips together and nod, carefully hiding any sort of misplaced hurt. It’s not as if you’re entitled to an invitation.
“Alright, I’ll see you later!” Too enthusiastic.
His brows pinch together. “You’re not coming?”
You look up at the others, who are collecting scarves and bags on their way to the portrait-hole. How can you admit to Remus that you don’t think they want you along? How can you tell him, anyone, that you’re far too afraid of being made fun of, or becoming a joke within their tight-knit group, to risk it?
“Oh, I don’t know. I have heaps of homework.”
“You do?” He raises his eyebrows. You feel caught, despite not having been accused of any sort of lie. “I thought you finished it all yesterday.”
You’d been studying when he and Lily joined you, and all day you’ve been wondering why they chose to. You probably put a but too much value on people choosing to sit next to you in class or during study; it’s unlikely that it was more than an absence of other free tables.
“...Some, yeah. And I wouldn’t want to- you know, I wouldn’t…” You trail off and give an awkward laugh. Remus’ gentle expression is making the inside of your mouth hurt.
“What?” You’re not used to your excuses mattering so much. Mostly, you mutter something and disappear to your dorm in time to avoid any drama. Is he feeling guilty, awkward about having made plans as a group in front of someone else? You cringe at the notion of Remus realising how friendless you probably are, of his pity.
You know it’s your own fault for being like this. You’ve had friends in the past- cool, funny, popular, attractive- who frequently left you out on purpose. A drunken conversation in fifth year revealed that you were tolerable at best, a joke at worst. Always pushing in and so desperate for invitations that to extend them could only be ironic.
You think about that more often than you should. You’re constantly hyperaware of how tolerable you are, sure that you’ll say or do something which will make everyone else realise exactly why you’re not in any particular group. You can’t let that happen yet with all these people, so full of love for one another that even proximity to them feels like the experience of it. Still, they’re teenagers. Judgement is an automatic response, and Remus is clever in the way he jokes. He’ll retell this conversation to roaring laughter if you reveal too much- not that he’s ever unkind, but you sort of invite a bad impression, you think.
“It’s really fine,” You assure him. “I’m tired. It’s cold, too.”
“Right,” He nods, glancing downwards. You think you’ve won (as much as you can win, here) until he turns to James and Peter and says, “I think we’re going to stay here. Bit chilly.”
What?
James frowns, making a sound of protest. “Moony!” His eyes fall to you next, and you look away, guilty and embarrassed. You’d never even considered that pity would drive Remus to actually stay here, and now they’ll all hate you. Nice job, very well handled.
Marlene is next. “‘Cas has just finished growing the Alihotsy plant, though. We’re all going.”
“It’s been weeks since we all had the evening off- or at least, since Potter and Black didn’t have a detention each,” Lily reasons more kindly. She receives twin protests from the boys on either side of her, but remains unbothered, adding, “It’d be nice to spend a bit more time as a group.”
You’re awfully close to tears. All you’d wanted was to relieve them of yourself, to retreat to your room and wait until somebody explicitly invited you somewhere (if ever), and now you’ve gone and ruined everybody’s evening. You turn to Remus, more urgent than is likely normal. “Please just go with them,” You say softly, aware that your voice is all wobbly. “I’m just going to go to bed, I don’t want to interrupt all of you catching up. Please, it’s really okay.”
There’s a brief silence that spans the entire crowd. They’ve all heard, are all likely attempting not to laugh. Remus is giving you an awful look.
“...Are you okay, lovely?” Mary asks. You can’t look at her, can’t look at any of them, but you’ve always been alright at masking emotion in your voice when you really try. You force something like a smile.
“Yes! Yes, completely fine, I’m only tired. Post-holiday blues, maybe.” You laugh and it sounds terrible. “I’ve really only got to go to bed. You all have fun!” Silence again.
“We might join you all in a bit,” Remus says firmly. There are a few worried noises of assent, and they all head off. Now, you do see them looking at one another, frowning and looking upset. Poor Remus, you imagine them saying on their way to the greenhouses, stuck looking after her while we all escape.
Remus asks you to sit down again three times before you agree, still rather set on going to bed so you won’t cry in front of the entire common-room.
“What’s making you so upset?” He asks softly, once he’s finally detained you. You blink quickly and cast a glance around at the other students in the common-room, afraid to embarrass yourself more than you already have, but he’s quick to assuage the fear. “I cast a muffliato when James began talking about the Alihotsy prank- ages ago. Nobody’s heard anything, I promise.”
You swallow harshly. “Oh. Thanks. I’m sorry I’m being so- so-”
“If I could,” Remus says, firm but kind, “This will be a lot easier if we can get to the problem, here, rather than whatever you think you’ve done wrong.”
“I- right. Okay. Um,” You stammer. “They’re not really mutually exclusive.” “Why don’t you want to come? Did somebody say something hurtful?” You look at him, slightly startled. “What? It’s not that I don’t want to.”
Remus seems perplexed, looking the way he does when he’s working out a particularly difficult exam question. “No?”
“No.” You twist your fingers together so tightly that they hurt. “No, it sounds fun, it just… it’s not as if I’m going to demand to be brought along, am I?” The joke falls flat. You think you already knew it would, but it’s still a bit embarrassing to laugh and be met with a concerned frown.
You take a few longer breaths. You can fix this. You have to fix this.
“Look, it’s kind of you to stay here, but like Lily said- you all have the night off. It’s really not so bad not to spend it as a group. I want you to go, really.” The next smile is easier. You’ve done this before, convinced people not to feel bad for you.
“Why would you need to demand to be brought along?” Remus asks. “We made the plans while you were right here.”
“You all made plans together,” You explain slowly. “You know, having an evening to yourselves and that sort of thing. There’s no need for- you know, I’m honestly just tired. That’s probably why I’ve reacted so oddly, it’s my own fault.”
Remus looks at you for a long while, so intent that your skin gets prickly and uncomfortable. Eventually, he speaks, quiet and considered. “...You haven’t acted oddly if that’s how you’ve been feeling.”
“Tired?”
“No, excluded.” He says gently. “You really didn’t know you were invited?” You don’t answer with more than silence, and he sighs.
“You were. You’re always invited, dove, of course you are.”
Trying not to get to hung up on impossibilities, you shake your head quickly. “It’d be a bit rude to assume that.”
“It wouldn’t.” Remus replies immediately. Then, “Dove, what are we going to do with you?” Entirely too much to comprehend. You’re glad he goes on. “Would you look at me for a moment, please?”
You want to ask him why, or refuse, or run up to your dormitory, but you do as he says. You wonder if he knows that he could ask you to do almost anything and you’d say yes, if he’ll only keep looking at you with his coffee-coloured eyes.
“All of us- we want you to come along, wherever we are. You’re important to lots of people. Do you understand that?” “I- I just don’t want to push myself in.” You say, mortified.
“You aren’t. You’re being pulled, if anything, yeah?” His lips quirk. “When Lily said those things about spending time as a group, she meant you, too. If somebody said something that made you think otherwise, I’ll-”
“Nobody said anything,” You tell him feebly. This is all rather a lot to take in. “I think… maybe it’s more that nobody’s said I am invited, or a part of- I don’t know, it’s all sort of stupid.”
“No it’s not,” Remus disagrees. He pinches your chin quickly between thumb and forefinger, frowning again. Mary once commented that Remus would look sixty by the time you all left school, with all his worrying wrinkles. “Not stupid, but it’s not very kind to yourself, either. Why shouldn’t we want you around?”
You open your mouth and close it at his raised eyebrow. “Rhetorical question?”
“Rhetorical question.” He confirms amusedly. “There’s no point arguing, because we do. I do. I wish you wouldn’t think otherwise.”
“I’ve only been friends with all of you for a little while, though. You’ve all been mates since first-year.” At that, Remus outright scoffs. “Have we, now?”
You shrug.
“James and Lily always liked each other, then? Dorcas didn’t only just start hanging around us as well?” You look down, and he sighs. “However long everybody’s known one another, the most important bit is that we all like each other, yeah? It wouldn’t matter whether we became mates at eleven or two days ago- we’re friends. Or- you know.”
You definitely don’t know, but you’re going red anyway. He was definitely talking about Lily and James- that’s all he meant by ‘you know’. Isn’t it?
Remus scratches the back of his head, quiet for another second. Then, “...Why don’t we go down to the greenhouses? We’ll stick together the whole time, you’ll not be sat by yourself again.”
“I don’t want to make you babysit.”
Remus tsks, expression becoming sterner for a moment. “Don’t think that way about yourself. I’m asking because I want you to come- it’s not worth going if you aren’t there.”
The long moment it takes for you to decipher whether he’s only being nice or if that’s the truth is enough for Remus to decide that you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Tugging you to your feet, and seeming taller than ever with your proximity, he winds his own scarf around your neck and pushes some hair behind your hear. You let him, mostly because you’re too surprised to do anything about it.
“Let’s go, before they all decide to try some of the Alihotsy themselves. Gloves?”
You manage a nervous giggle, putting your mittens on when he hands them to you. “Thanks.”
“That’s alright. Come on,” He gives you a crooked sort of smile. It’s sometimes difficult to tell if Remus is aware how good-looking he is.
The entire group are far too enthusiastic at yours and Remus’ arrival fifteen minutes later, given the fact that it’s hardly been half an hour since they left. Either way, you’re quickly pulled into a squabble between Lily and James about- as Remus predicted- the logic of trying some Alihotsy for themselves.
“Thank Merlin you came, you’re the only one who won’t be completely daft about this!” Lily says, linking her arm in yours. You smile before catching Remus’ eye and looking down, feeling yourself flush. Smug bastard, you think fondly.
It’s an entire two hours before everyone heads back up to the castle, having thoroughly violated curfew but without (to James and Sirius’ chagrin) having tested any of the plant which would induce hysterical laughter. You find yourself walking beside the tallest of the group in comfortable silence, a few steps behind the rest.
“Thanks for making me come with you,” You say, perhaps a little more earnestly than you ought. “It was really nice.”
“‘Course, dove.” You look up at Remus to find he’s already looking at you. He clears his throat, glancing over at Sirius and Marlene where they’re pretending to push each other into the snow. It’s likely to end in one of them following through and the other swearing eternal hatred. “We’re all glad you came along. Could even make a habit of it.”
You exhale a laugh. “Maybe.”
He gives you a sideways look. “Oh, ‘maybe’, is it?” “...Conceivably?” You grin, darting away when he grabs at you and sort of wishing you’d stayed still just to see what he’d do. Remus fixes you with a teasing glare.
“Watch it, sweetheart.”
You blink, choking on words for a minute. Sweetheart? Sweetheart!? Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheartsweetheartsweetheartsweetheart-
“You alright?”
“Yeah!” You say, too quickly. Remus misreads your flusteredness as something else and softens, taking hold of your sleeve and tugging you towards him. You go easily.
“If it’ll help,” He says thoughtfully, “You can ask me if you’re invited to things. Or I’ll just tell you. Then you won’t have to go to the trouble of assuming either way.”
You like him so, so much. “That’s really nice of you, Remus.”
“Eh,” He shrugs. “You know me.”
Now, it’s harder not to smile than anything else. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. It’s really my problem, I shouldn’t-”
“Enough,” He interrupts gently. “Just say yes, dove, if it’ll help. I won’t be unhappy either way.”There are several places within you, the more unkind parts, that say accepting his offer would be like accepting pity. But there are also places that are warmed at the thought, that remember how people reacted when you arrived in the greenhouse, that can start imagining a reality wherein nobody hated your presence by the sofas tonight, and those bits win the argument for the first time in a very long time. You look up at Remus, his soft eyes and fluffy hair dusted with snow, and nod.
#marauders#marauders era#hurt/comfort#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#shy!reader#marauders fluff#marauders hurt/comfort#james potter#sirius black#marlene mckinnon#lily evans#remus x y/n#remus x reader#remus x you#moony x fem!reader#moony x reader#remus lupin x shy!reader#remus lupin hurt/comfort#remus lupin fluff#x reader#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fic#remus x reader drabble#remus lupin x reader drabble#marla's requests
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BDSMaid - Chapter 1
Masterlist || AO3
Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: 18+ Chapter Summary: To save money for law school, you accept a job at Maid Discretely; a high end, anonymous cleaning service. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in, more than just your curiosity peaks. CW: Author chooses not to use warnings in this chapter in order to avoid spoilers. While I never want to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. AN: Oh boy, here we go! I'm in a straight PANIC getting ready to post this. I hope it meets all your expectations, I was not at all expecting that reaction to the teaser post. Love you all and thank you for all your support. Please share or comment, I have a praise kink LOL. Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for future chapters. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Thank you @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk and @burntheedges for being my little cheerleaders over this, ily!! Chapter Word Count: 4.4k
You stare down at the very intimidating legal document you have clasped in your clammy hands. There are so many big legal sounding words that seem to be mocking you with their importance. Somehow there are clauses that have sub clauses that are then further broken down into sub-subclauses. It feels heavy to be handed this on a Monday morning. Truthfully, this doesn’t seem like something a soon-to-be twenty-one year old woman who literally just graduated college, albeit a semester early, should be allowed to sign without parents and a lawyer present.
This is just supposed to be a simple job working part time as a maid for your best friend's family’s cleaning company. A job where she promised easy money and part time hours that you set for yourself. The perfect opportunity for you to be able to save money AND set aside lots of study time for your upcoming LSAT rewrite. You passed it a few months ago and applied to a bunch of law schools, but you aren’t going to waste these next few months waiting around. You know how competitive law schools can be, so you’re preparing to be better just in case you don’t get in.
Your eyes scan words that your brain can’t seem to comprehend. The internal panic starts to bubble in your chest, someone who has law aspirations should know what these words mean.
This is just supposed to be easy. Cleaning. Vacuuming. Washing floors. Simple things.
But now, as you sit in this shiny, fancy downtown office building looking at your full legal name typed beside a bunch of ‘initial here’ and ‘sign here’ lines on a nondisclosure agreement you’re starting to feel like this is anything but simple.
“Our clientele is VERY exclusive,” your childhood best friend Jamie says. She looks very professional and grown up sitting behind her glass desk. Her long, toned legs are crossed, the slit along the side of her crisp, white pencil skirt showing off her tanned upper thigh. She’s paired her white skirt with a baby pink silky blouse that's perfectly tucked into the high waist of the skirt. Her long, dark silky hair is twisted into a jeweled claw clip. Even though you’re the same age she has an air of sophistication and grace, even with winged eyeliner, a matte pink lip, and a slender rose gold septum ring that sits tight to her little button nose. She almost screams old Hollywood in the middle of Austin, Texas.
She continues, “You won’t know the names of the clients and they will never be home. If they do come home, leave immediately, and try your best not to be seen or heard. Then you can fill out in the company app what you did and didn’t manage to get done.”
You put the paper down on her perfect desk so she can’t see your hands shaking. How can you work at that desk all day and not get a single fingerprint or smudge on it? There’s a very good chance that I am not cut out for this. This is fancy. And expensive. I’m neither of those things.
“What am I gonna be walking in on at these houses, Jamie?” You ask, swallowing the fiberglass that’s suddenly prickling at your throat.
Jamie shakes her head and laughs, saying your name through her melodic giggles. “Most likely nothing. We’ve never had an encounter or run in with a client. They pick times for cleaners to come when they aren’t home.” She leans back in her high backed chair and continues, “But the clients are big deals. Politicians. Judges. Athletes. The odd celebrity. They don’t want anyone in their home that will snoop or snap pictures. Hence the NDA.”
“Well, why didn’t you start with that!” You laugh. “Jesus, I thought I’d be walking into like a virginal sacrifice or some shit!”
“Well, there was that one time…” Your face drops and she immediately starts laughing again. “I’m kidding. Relax. Look, you’ll probably get three homes a week, each house will take six to eight hours. The hourly pay is twenty dollars plus whatever tip they’ll leave you in these black envelopes.”
She puts a perfectly polished finger on a stack of black envelopes with a red ‘Maid Discretely’ logo on it and continues, “In my experience, the tips are around five hundred, completely tax free. This is a good gig! You’ll be in law school becoming smarter than all of us in no time. Fuck, you’ll be writing insane contracts like those before we know it.”
She stands, one hand resting on the desk while the other slides the paper towards you with a closed pen. She drops the writing apparatus on top of it, the metal casing of the pen clanging loudly on her glass desk. You let out an exasperated sigh, dramatically clicking the pen before signing the NDA. Jamie claps her hands excitedly then snatches the contract away before you can rip it up and says, “Let’s get your uniform and supplies!”
She hands you a few fitted white polo style t-shirts, black dress pants, white Keds (that she scolds are for inside the houses only), a caddy full of high end cleaning supplies, a top of the line Dyson vacuum and everything else you’ll need.
She ends your meeting with instructions on how the company's scheduling and tracking app works. "Essentially, you set the days and times you’re available and it will populate for you. You’ll have addresses, dates and times, as well as tasks to be done, all nicely laid out for you. If a client likes you, they can request you for additional shifts, but for continuity purposes you should get the same couple houses that you’ll rotate through throughout the month."
You nod along, mostly surprised to hear the girl who did a keg stand just a few days ago sound so professional, using words like 'continuity purposes'.
The next day you have your first official shift. Tuesday from nine to three and you’re scheduled at a mansion in a neighborhood you’ve never heard of and you most definitely wouldn’t fit in to. Jamie is already waiting there for you when you pull up. She explained yesterday that she’d help you with the first one and then you are on your own after that. Well, not completely alone. Your iPhone is loaded full of smutty audio books, murder podcasts, and law books to listen to as you clean.
Jamie was right, you think to yourself as you scroll to the latest romance novel you’ve downloaded and grab your AirPods, this is a good gig.
The house is absolutely massive, and you highly doubt you’ll be done in six hours. You gather all your stuff and head up to the house. Jamie shows you where the company supplied key box is and how to open it from the app. As you grab the key Jamie excitedly says, “This used to be my client. He always leaves a huge tip!”
You unlock the large front glass door and enter into a white marble foyer. The windows on the first floor are easily ten feet tall and allow in so much natural light. Gold and obsidian swirls in the marble reflect along the walls, dancing in the sunlight. To the left of the front door is a large open kitchen that might be bigger than your entire apartment. The marble of the expansive countertop is the same colour as the foyer. All the cabinetry is matte black with brushed gold handles. The kitchen opens into a lavish living room, a massive fireplace and TV sits on the far back left wall, encompassed by a very cozy looking white sectional.
To the right of the front door, starting furthest away from where you stand in awe, is a door to a huge half bathroom, followed by a long table with a bowl for keys and mail, and then the door that leads to the garage. About fifty feet in front of you is a grand staircase that branches out to the left and right. Beyond the staircase you can see into the backyard. This is by far the nicest house you’ve ever been in.
As both you and Jamie slip into your keds she says, “Upstairs to the left are a few bedrooms and the office. I usually started there and then went to the right side where he has a huge entertainment area. Then I would clean down here since he doesn’t cook very often and it’s usually just a quick wipe down.”
Just as you start to panic over how you’re supposed to remember all this she nudges you and adds, “But that’s all in the app for you, most of the clients are very particular so they’ll lay out exactly what order you should be cleaning in, as well as any other extra things they need done.”
She helps you carry all your stuff upstairs and then watches you work. Sure enough, the app says to start in the office so you do just that. Careful not to disturb the few piles of paperwork you dust the desk and shelves and then wipe down the windows and computer screen. You vacuum the hardwood and plush rug last and after Jamie gives you an approving nod, you move onto the next room.
You continue like that, going from room to room, your friend, and now boss, occasionally giving feedback or leaving to answer a phone call or respond to an email. The job is easy enough; repeating the same steps in each room over and over again. It’s the exact type of work you exceed at. You enjoy having clear sets of instructions and expectations, and a prioritized list where you can start at the top and work down. You’ve always excelled at following meticulous directions in school. Your life maybe not so much. When it comes to dating or your parents you aren’t one to do what you’re told.
When one o’clock rolls around you just have one bathroom upstairs and the already pristine downstairs to tend to, but Jamie coaxes you into taking your break, which is another thing you’re bad at. You were raised not to take breaks, taking a break or doing nothing means you're lazy. You should be working all the time, and pushing yourself to accomplish things. As a child you’d push and push yourself to be the best, honor roll ceremonies were the only time your dad would show up. He’d smile and brag about you to whoever was around.
“It’s important that you take all your supplies to your car with you when you eat your lunch. Never eat in their homes and never park on their driveways.” You nod and hoist all your stuff to the front step. “Make sure you lock up like you’re leaving too.”
“How am I doing so far?” You ask as you lock the door, your stomach growling loudly as if it needs to prove to her how hard you’re working. You hadn’t realized how much of an appetite you’d gain just from cleaning. The few stale crackers and small can of tuna you managed to find in your cupboard this morning doesn’t seem like it’s going to be enough.
“Really well! I actually think I might leave you to finish up. Don’t forget to take whatever he left for you out of the black envelope on the kitchen counter.” She doesn’t look up at you, her fingers tapping out an email on her shiny iphone screen. She doesn’t have her phone in a case and you can only imagine the level of self confidence you have to have to carry around an expensive item unprotected like that.
“Is it weird that there’s no pictures or anything of the family that lives here?” You say curiously as you both walk towards your parked vehicles.
“No,” she says flatly. “I think it’s just one person here and that’s pretty normal for the houses you’ll be cleaning. Lots of them are rarely home or only home to sleep.”
You gawk at the massive house from across the street as you throw all your supplies in the back of your used and rusted SUV. One person lives here. Alone. How is this possible? He’s clearly doing well for himself. Either he’s really lonely or a complete asshole.
After you eat, you head back inside to finish up cleaning. The entire house looks like a show home. Not a single thing out of place. The kitchen seems staged, void of life aside from a tiny droplet of coffee on the countertop beside the Italian coffee maker, and a tiny brown stegosaurus toy that sits on top of it. Two minutes before the end of your shift you do a final sweep to make sure you haven’t left anything behind and then slip open the black envelope. Inside you find seven one hundred dollars and a note that just says ‘TY - JM’.
As you log your day in the company app you can’t believe you just made seven hundred freaking dollars to clean up after a man who makes no messes. You excitedly check your upcoming schedule and it looks like you’ll be back here in two more weeks. You could potentially be getting fourteen hundred dollars a month from this elusive “JM”. A man with no pictures or personal touches in his shiny white, black and gold mansion.
It’s been almost two weeks since your first clean at JM’s house. Your other clients were good tippers, usually between four to five hundred, but you’ve been looking forward to going back. You know you’re not supposed to know who the clients are, but you couldn’t help but google JM to try to figure out who he is and how he has so much money. In hindsight, you guess all your clients have money, but something about him has alerted your curiosity. He seems like smoke, or a ghost, in his own home. Your other clients had some sort of semblance of life in their houses. A dent in the pillow. An open newspaper on the kitchen table. A coffee cup dropped in the sink before they headed off to whatever fancy job they have to afford such a massive house. A toilet seat left up or a smudge of toothpaste on the mirror.
But not JM.
No, the only thing JM left was a tiny droplet of coffee. Coffee that was probably imported straight from Italy. You’re almost ashamed of the amount of times you’ve wondered about that stegosaurus toy. It seems so out of place in his house of clean lines and sterility.
You’re just settling in to enjoy a Sunday night of sushi, rosé and Bridgerton with your roommate when your phone bings, a little red notification bubble popping up on the Maid Discretely app. You have an added shift request for JM tomorrow. Instead of one six hour shift on Tuesday you now have two six hour shifts. You accept the request and scroll through the tasks. He’s requested you to wipe the baseboards and lightswitches on the main floor, a deep scrub of every bathroom, as well as doing the inside of the fridge, stove and microwave. There are also instructions for washing the sheets in the main bedroom, and spraying down the patio furniture around the pool.
Only a millionaire in Texas would ask for his pool furniture to be cleaned in February.
Shortly after you accept the shift you get a text from Jamie:
Saw you accepted the shift. The client asked for the normal clean on the first day, please. Extras the next day. Thanks.
The following morning you head to the large, bright mansion. Parking across the street and hauling all your stuff in. It feels a bit weird to be here on a Monday and you have a feeling you’ll be reminding yourself all day that it is indeed Monday and not Tuesday.
You get all your stuff together, change into your indoor company issued keds and head up the stairs. The pink and orange hues of the sunrise glitters off the white marble tiles, glints of gold and sparkling black reflecting off of it. You take a second to look down from the landing as you pop in your airpods. It really is a beautiful home, and it’s too bad that whoever lives here is either lonely or an asshole, but for a split second you let yourself pretend that you and JM just finished making love and he’s now in the kitchen making you an espresso or a latte with that insanely fancy coffee machine in the kitchen. You shake your head at yourself. You didn’t find anything when googling, which isn’t surprising since two letters aren’t much to go on, but this house seems to draw you in, like it’s calling to you. It’s strange, it’s almost like you have a crush on this house and you couldn’t help but make a whole persona for whoever lives here. Even with its clean lines and lack of life, something about it settles in your gut, it feels like home.
You scroll your podcast app trying to pick what episode you want to listen to and head down the hall, you can’t seem to decide so you pocket your phone without starting anything and reach for the matte black handle of the office door. You’re expecting to see JM’s tidy office with a few stacks of paperwork in one corner, but the sight you find before you has all the blood rush from your head and your stomach dropping right out of your body. Your jaw drops and you freeze in utter shock and fear.
Instead of the usual stacks of paper, there’s an icy blond haired woman tied to the desk. She’s completely naked and on her back with her legs spread wide. Her ankles are tied to the legs of the desk with a scratchy looking rope, her wrists wrapped in matching rope and resting above her head. Her nipples are almost purple underneath the clothespin attached to them. You freeze, just the lewd wet noises of her pussy being worked furiously by the mysterious, fully clothed JM. His deep, commanding, gravel filled voice reverberates through the office. “Little fuckin' slut. Gonna split you in two.”
The woman lets out an unashamed cry of pleasure. Your entire body seems to go numb as your caddy falls from your hand, crashing loudly against the hardwood flooring. His head whips to the side, the icy blonde woman letting out a scream and trying to cover herself up. Your hands cover your mouth and even though you can’t feel your legs you spin and run for the stairs.
“Fuck. Fuck. Wait,” JM calls after you.
One of your AirPods falls from your ear as you run, you’re tempted to stop and grab it but you need to get out of here. Jamie’s voice echoes through your skull, ‘try your hardest not to be seen or heard’.
He catches up to you as you reach the front entryway, his strong hand pushing the door closed. You can feel the heat of his body against your back. You’re shaking - both from being terrified and embarrassed. You have so many thoughts running through your mind. This will get you fired, or worse, you could have just possibly lost the company a client. Fuck. You aren’t supposed to know who lives here and you certainly aren’t supposed to see them doing that.
“Please wait,” he says softly behind you and the heat of his broad body sends a chill down your spine.
The blood is rushing through your ears as your heart pounds in your throat. You don’t like confrontation and even with the softness in his voice, you’re sure he’s about to scream at you. You feel sick, and when you replay the words he said to the woman upstairs, and the sound of her moan that made you drop your caddy you start to feel dizzy and nervous.
Your hand falls from the handle of the front door and the brick wall of a man behind you steps back. You spin slowly to face him but keep your eyes on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, linking your fingers in front of you and focusing all your attention on the cuticle of your right thumb.
“No, please. This is my fault.” You trail your eyes from the floor to him. He's in perfectly pressed black dress pants paired with a white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his forearms and he’s holding his hands up in front of himself as if to show you he isn’t armed or as a way to say 'you’re safe here'.
You flick your eyes up to his face and he’s looking at you softly, the morning sunrise lighting up his tanned face and salt and pepper hair. JM is probably twice your age, but he is incredibly handsome.
“I am so sorry. I must’a got my days mixed up when I booked you.” He says, a soft southern accent sneaking out.
“I’m going to get fired,” you respond shakily.
“No,” he says stepping forward, you subsequently take a step back, pressing your body against the glass front door. Something about this man makes you nervous, but not in the same way women are trained to be nervous of strange men that are almost twice their size. “No. This is my fault. Please, let me explain. I jus’ gotta - well, can I go deal with…” his head cocks towards the stairs, “And then let me explain. Please?”
You look at him, his handsome face all soft and apologetic. His dark brown and amber eyes dance around your face and without realizing you're even doing it, you nod your head.
“Thank you,” he drops his hands at his side, visibly relaxing at your decision not to run. “Sit at the island for me. I’ll be back.”
He watches you as you pad over to the island. The tall bar chair squeaks on the tile floor as you pull it out. He peels his eyes from you and heads upstairs. When you sit you have to stop from moaning out, the pressure of your body weight there sends a wave of rolling pleasure through you.
What the fuck?
It’s a dull, throbbing ache followed by a small gush of thick wetness. Did you mistake a feeling of arousal for dizziness and nervousness upstairs? Were you turned on by what you just witnessed?
Certainly not. There’s no way! He was, well, he wasn’t being nice to that woman.
Soon you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and towards the foyer, his body blocks her from your view as they talk at the front door. They speak in hushed voices, all you’re able to make out is her saying thank you followed by the sound of a soft kiss and then she’s gone.
She thanked him? It seems like he should be thanking her.
He wanders into the kitchen and your throat goes impossibly dry. As if he can read your every need, he grabs a glass from the cabinet, puts it under the water dispenser on his fridge door and then slides the glass across the large island to you. You have to lift off the chair to reach it, whispering a thank you before taking a sip.
JM leans against the countertop beside the fridge and watches you take a long drink. You put the glass down with a quiet clink and then fold your hands in your lap. His eye contact is intense, not in a creepy way, it’s almost like he’s assessing you. You find it hard to look at him so you avert your gaze to the glass.
He clears his throat gently before he starts. “I jus’ want to say how sorry I am. You didn’t consent to seein’ any of that and I can’t imagine how awful that was for you.” His voice is so calm and soft.
You flick your eyes up to him, “No, this is my fault. I am not suppose-“
JM shakes his head and holds up one hand, signaling you to stop. “No. This was me. I got my days mixed up. Meant to book ya for next week. This ain’t on you. This was my mistake. If it’s ok for me to ask, what’s your name?”
You mumble your name into your glass and down the rest of your water. You figure you’re probably fired either way so who cares if he knows who you are. His face ticks up slightly, almost like he’s proud of you for drinking, and says your name back to you.
“I ain’t gonna say anythin’ to your boss and I understand if you want to leave for the day. I’ll pay ya either way. I also understand if you say somethin’ to them and I can’t be a client anymore. It was unacceptable for me to be doin’ that when you’re supposed to be here. There ain’t any other way to word it. I was inappropriate and wrong.” He steps forward and holds his hand out so you slide the glass across to him.
He refills it and puts it back for you to grab. “No,” you say, your voice cracking. After clearing your throat you continue, “No, I appreciate your apology but I’m not going to say anything.”
He watches you again as you drain the glass, the same look of pride flashes across his eyes, “I’ll - umm - I’ll be in my office. You can uh,” he runs a hand through his scruff, “You just do whatever you need. I’ll stay outta your way.”
He disappears before you can say anything else. You head up the stairs after a few minutes to find your cleaning caddy sitting in the hall with everything placed neatly where it belongs. His office door is closed and you can hear the deep rumble of his voice while he’s on a call. You grab your things, head into the master bedroom and begin cleaning.
A few hours later while you’re sitting in your car eating lunch, the garage door opens and JM goes whipping past you in the sexiest blacked out sports car you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even look over you as he speeds by. Your heart sinks, it's unexplainable but being in that house with him there, even after what you witnessed, felt more comfortable than being alone. JM must have some sort of magic touch, how you went from nervous and embarrassed to calm and comforted with just the look on his face and few words is beyond you.
After wiping down the kitchen you are all done for the day. You grab the black and red envelope off the kitchen counter and open it, peering in nervously. There’s a piece of matte black paper on top. You slide it out gently, the paper feels expensive between your fingers. As you unfold it you reveal a shiny black JMK logo at the top. In neat gold lettering is his writing.
‘Please know how sorry I am. Your consent is more important than anything. I broke that. Just hope I didn't break your trust. -Joel Miller.’
At the bottom of the envelope are ten crisp one hundred dollar bills.
Next Chapter
#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel x reader#pedrohub#joel miller fanfiction#daddy joel#joel x female reader#joel x y/n#joel x oc#joel x you#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#joel miller x original character#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x oc#joel miller au#millionaire!Joel miller#bdsmaid#dom!joel miller
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Aim for the Sky Part 33 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley can't wait to learn if Rose is going to have a younger brother or sister. Planning for the baby means planning for the future, but Bradley can feel that you're unhappy. With help from friends, he finally figures out why.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, vomiting
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.
Truthfully, he was enjoying many aspects of his day-to-day at work. He loved making decisions that would benefit his group. When he had a compelling answer for his superior officers, it made him feel so good about himself. He didn't even mind putting in the extra hours. But it was clear that Indigo wanted to be his class pet, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that.
She was weighing on his mind a lot, most likely because she was constantly invading his office hours. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to try so hard to be the best aviator in the bunch when she just simply was the best one. But that would be feeding her ego, which probably wasn't the smartest option right now.
"Are you ready?"
Bradley looked up from his desk to see you standing there, and he jumped to his feet. "Of course I'm ready," replied with a smile, pushing all of his paperwork to the side and logging out of his computer. "Been looking forward to this."
You smiled softly, hand resting on the slight swell of your belly as you shifted your weight from one booted foot to the other. "Me too," you whispered, and Bradley grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk drawer. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers between yours and headed out into the sunny October afternoon.
"Time for our final guesses," you said. "Do you think it's a boy or another girl?"
Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."
"Rose looks like you, Bradley!" you insisted immediately, breaking out in the biggest smile he'd seen on your face in weeks.
"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with."
Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.
"We'll be late if we don't get a move on," you whispered. Bradley responded by kissing along your cheek to your lips. "I'm serious, Roo," you mumbled.
"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."
A short drive later, and the two of you were walking into the waiting room right on time. You barely sat down before a nurse was calling you back and handing you a hospital gown.
"It's weird without Rose here," you said as you got undressed. Bradley held out the gown for you to slip into, shaking his head.
"Nah. This is just for us. She can hear all about it later after work."
He was just about to close the distance to stop you from tying the gown closed so he could get another look at you, but Dr. Morris strolled in.
"How are we all doing?" she asked, shooting Bradley a look on her way past. It wasn't like he was capable of knocking you up again, but she was looking at him like he might have.
"Fantastic," he replied at the same time you said, "Okay."
He shot you a look as you eased yourself up on the table. He wasn't sure what he could do to make you happier. A conversation was clearly necessary now, but he didn't even know how to initiate it. If finding out more about the second Nugget today wasn't enough to make you smile, he didn't know what was.
He dropped down into the chair at your side, wrapping his big hand around yours as Dr. Morris spread that warm gel across your belly and asked you an array of questions. He listened to your answers as his heart beat a little faster. He was excited about this. Soon you could talk about baby names and nursery themes. He couldn't wait to meet his second child in the spring.
Bradley kissed your fingertips, watching intently as your doctor isolated some ultrasound images. Then she asked, "Do you want to find out the sex?"
"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please."
You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.
"It's a girl."
He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way.
"Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls."
Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.
----------------------------
Bradley had been inundating your text thread for days with links to various nursery themes, but meanwhile you and he hadn't even decided which room would be your second daughter's.
"A second daughter," you whispered at your desk. Your parents were excited; you got to watch your mom and dad cry over FaceTime. Rose was too young to care, but one day she might have an opinion about her sister. You, on the other hand, felt like a mixed bag of emotions.
You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.
When you managed to let your intrusive thoughts win out, you checked his phone only to find pretty much nothing untoward. Other than ruining the surprise of what was probably supposed to be an anniversary gift, all you found was one unanswered message Indigo sent to him a while ago. It bordered on flirtatious, and you were a little concerned that he gave her his phone number, but there was really nothing there.
But she was in your face on base enough that you kept to your office as much as you could. Of course, today was the day you were absolutely starving, and you left your lunch at home. You could pop down to the cafeteria, grab a sandwich to appease yourself and the baby, and then bring it back up here to eat it. Should be a piece of cake.
Hot turkey sandwiches were on the menu, and you almost cried tears of joy as you had one packed up in a container with extra gravy and a side of mashed potatoes. It smelled so good, you couldn't wait to take a bite.
When you were waiting for the elevator, you froze with your lunch in your hands. You could see Indigo and Spice heading out of the cafeteria, and there was hardly anyone in the lobby for you to try to hide behind. You felt absolutely ridiculous as you stood there eavesdropping.
"What kind of progress have you made?" Spice asked, voice carrying over the sound of conversation around you.
Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need."
You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.
A sob escaped your lips, and you tripped along to your office door. You really did look awful. Your skin was broken out, and you were going to need to start wearing the maternity tent well before your third trimester. Your belly was already tender, and then the baby decided this was the perfect moment to kick hard enough you thought you were going to wet your khakis.
"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.
When you finally made it back to your office, your stomach couldn't handle a single bite of food. You dumped it in the trash.
-----------------------------
Bradley was just wrapping up a meeting with Maverick when Indigo cornered him outside his office. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. She was getting to be relentless.
As she shook her head slowly, she laughed. "I already told you, Sir, I can think of countless things you could help me with."
"Well why don't you run some of them past me?"
Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. "We could do that at the Hard Deck? I could still buy you that drink?"
Bradley sighed, hands planted on his hips which somehow drew her in closer. "I can't let any of you buy me drinks. Sorry, but that's not going to happen." He nodded toward his door. "But I have about fifteen minutes if there's something I can help you with."
She nodded. "Fifteen minutes would probably be more than enough, Sir."
Indigo stepped inside his office, glancing back at him over her shoulder, but Bradley saw another familiar face turn the corner in the hallway.
"Hey, there, hot shot," said Natasha, making Bradley smile. "You have a minute?"
"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?"
Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"
"Absolutely," he replied. "See you around seven?"
"Yeah."
She took one more look at Indigo before marching back the way she came, leaving Bradley with nothing to do but take a seat behind his desk.
"Do you want me to close the door?" Indigo asked, voice laced with hope as she half stood.
"Leave it," Bradley replied, once again showing no hint of favoritism. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"
----------------------------
After dinner, you excused yourself to Rose's nursery to feed her and make a phone call to your parents. Bradley kissed you on the forehead before doubling back to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. When he let you know Nat was coming over to workout in the garage, you seemed almost relieved.
He started setting up his weights and bench press when he heard the sound of a familiar engine pull up to the house. A minute later, Nat was strolling in wearing bright pink spandex with a matching gym bag.
"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it.
"You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked.
"What?"
"The word dumbass written across your forehead."
He rolled his eyes, dropping her bag onto one of the mats. Then he froze as he heard another engine pull up to a stop at his driveway. This one made him glare at Nat.
"Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place.
Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup."
Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"
Natasha closed the distance to him, patting Bradley on the chest with a firm hand. Her dark eyes conveyed concern as she asked, "Are you fucking stupid? Or are you doing it on purpose?"
"Huh?"
"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."
"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."
The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity.
"She wants in your pants," Jake drawled.
"Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about.
"Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest.
"Indigo?" Bradley asked, taking a step away from her. Both Nat and Jake were nodding as Bradley's brow creased. "She's like twenty-six years old."
"So?" Nat asked, hands planted on her hips.
"So, she's not trying to get in my pants. I'm married. Everyone knows I'm married."
Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.
If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it.
Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well.
Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.
"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."
"I'm not," he barked, angry at the insinuation. "I wouldn't. I've never even touched her!"
Nat's hands were on his chest, coaxing him to calm down, but he was too worked up. "Easy, Soul Sister," she said, but he was shaking his head now.
"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?"
Bradley's chest was heaving with ragged breaths as she guided him to sit on his bench. He landed hard, jostling the weights as he looked up at two sympathetic faces.
"Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."
"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?"
"Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes.
"Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."
"Fuck." Bradley stood and started pacing around. He felt like his job and marriage were suddenly on the line. He didn't know what to say to you that wouldn't potentially make things worse right now. If he could think of something reasonable, he'd run across the yard and back inside the house and say it to your face.
Maybe this was part of the reason you'd been so quiet? But it didn't make sense. He never talked about Indigo outside of the context of work, because there was simply nothing else to say. But after that night at the bar, you were really fucking mad at him. He thought you were mad that he got drunk, but maybe there was more to it.
"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?"
"Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.
But he would take care of everything. He'd talk to Mav and figure it all out. What other choice did he have?
"I'm heading inside," he murmured. "Can the two of you turn off the lights and lock up when you're done."
Bradley didn't wait for an answer. He was already walking across the backyard, craving your reassuring touch that he wasn't quite sure he deserved. When his phone vibrated in the pocket of his shorts, he pulled it out. He was met with another text from Indigo, but this time there was a photo as well. She was on the beach at sunset, the orange and pink sky somehow making her eyes look even more startlingly blue, and she was smiling at the camera. When his eyes slid down the screen to her cleavage, he almost dropped his phone. But not before he read the text.
This beach is so beautiful. Wish you were here.
Bradley couldn't decide what to do. Turn around and go back to the garage? Go inside the house? Sit down on Rose's jungle gym and cry? Smash his phone to bits? When another text appeared, he looked at it immediately.
Oops, I sent that to the wrong person. Have a good night, Sir.
Bradley squeezed his phone in his hand until he was afraid it might break. Then he opened a different text thread and pounded out a message, hitting send immediately.
Mav, I need to talk to you about something important first thing in the morning.
When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.
Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly.
"I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."
-----------------------------
Start getting your shit together, Bradley. Indigo has shown she's relentless. Also, I thought I was solid on the baby's name, but I might put it to a vote. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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Wanna Make You Mine — {Feat. Minji}
5k words
A/N: Hi, it’s been a while! I felt like I should write and post something, and here it is. This was not written in my best condition, but it’s Minji😌. Honored to have had @chunksworld as a beta-reader and an editor! If you find some amazingly well-written sentences most likely it’s from him haha☺️ Enjoy!
******
It was a few days ago when rain poured heavily, unexpectedly leading to one of the hottest encounters you have ever experienced in your life. And the more you reminisce, the bigger your smile grows, bittersweetly. If someone told you it was a dream, you’d buy that. A fever dream, albeit a short one. But it hasan everlasting lingering image carved in your heart. It was fire-hot, it was ice-cold. Like bubble gum you savor it when it tastes sweet, but it diminishes when the sweet is gone.
The day you forgot your umbrella is a day you will never, ever forget. It was a surprise, a super hot one to you. And like a hit-and-run, it stuns you, and then leaves, barely leaving any marks.
******
You don’t precisely remember since when, but there’s something about her that made her stand out to you. Multiple times you caught her looking your way then quickly avoiding your eyes–it happened enough for you to sense how unusual it is.
It’s not because she stands out; she doesn’t. She is considered by many as a model student and everyone likes her. Acing quizzes, straight A’s and with a courteous manner. She was given every admirable virtue in her heart, and radiates it like it’s her body odor. A waking proof that humans can be perfect. But she’s not the one to boast about it, keeping down people’s envy in the level of admiration and friendliness.
For you, Kim Minji is just another student who happens to be in the same school as you. Sometimes you get a nod as a sign of greeting from her and sometimes she just passes by. Still, everytime you run into her, her tranquil smile tells you how she became the model student that she is. Not a single person in this school would succeed in disliking her. You see how everyone says hi to her just to hear it back. And with no exception, she does. To you, too, of course. Sometimes she says “hi” first, and sometimes you do.
A respectable student. That’s it. Nothing less, nothing more.
******
Today it is raining. At this point, it’s plausible that God knows you didn’t bring your umbrella for the third time this month. Third time you brought an extra tumbler, third time you left your umbrella at home, and the third time it rained. Youthink of repenting but deep in your mind you know God owes you a big apology, not the other way around.
The downpour is heavy so you decide to wait in school knowing that it will die down in a few minutes, well that's what you hope because you don't want to risk getting any of your stuff wet.
You are and have always been a quiet kid in school—an introvert. Just the right amount of friends, not really prone to being bullied, a surprisingly average amount of female interactions and above-average grades. Just one of those boys who loves listening to music, watching movies and a bunch of other things.
Can’t spend a rainy day without music on your headphones, can you? Plus, it’s just you in this big hallway so you wear it and turn the jazzy classics on while you stroll lazily along the windows. You blindly step to the comforting rhythm of the song watching the droplets kiss the window. Guess you won't blame God for the rain this time.
You look at the dark gray concrete walls, white window frames, bright gray limestone floor, and the wooden doors of the classrooms you walk by. With the music flowing through your ears and rain crashing on the windows right in front of you, even the gloomy colors of the school building looks rather comforting.
So you walk, and walk, and walk until you’re back in front of your classroom. The rain has become a lot more silent than when it started and it’ll get dark soon. You want to spend your Friday evenings at home and not in school.
The rain will have stopped by the sunset and theair would beclean then. You wouldn’t want to miss the glow of the setting sun with such a crystal clear sky. You imagine the view it’d give you, which songs would be perfect to listen to and you just can’t hold a smile back.
“Oh! Oh… hey…” When you open the door, Minji is frightened by you. She looks disheveled from head to toe. Her hair is frazzled, her face ruddy, her breath heavy. But what’s more desecrating is that her shirt is open, her unblemished midriff has a layer of sweat-like liquid coating it, taint on her gray bra. All of it is sent to your brain to process, which causes it to cease functioning for a second.
“D-don’t mind me.” Then she rushes to what you assume to be the restroom Kim Minji, who has never even opened a button of her shirt in school before and yet you just saw her bare belly. You’re blushing, trying not to think about it but you fail miserably. It feels dirty to be like this—she isn’t one of those provocative types of girls to you… or she wasn’t.
But you can’t explain why she’s so frantic with her skin so exposed. Why was she so out of breath and sweaty? Why was she so surprised to see you and then proceeded to rush outside the classroom?
Has she been sacred or sanctimonious? Has she been exemplary or errant?
You know it’s a rash judgment.
You step inside the classroom then walk over to your seat where you find an oddly-placed puddle on the desk. Not as big as a spilled bottle of water, not as small as the drool you usually make when you doze off with your face buried in your arms during class.
You examine it by dipping your finger on it.
Definitely not water.
Then what?
“What's this?” You find a blue switch and pick it up.
“Hey,” Flabbergasted, you turn around so quickly that it slips out of your grip. It's Minji who's standing at the door frame, leaning slightly on the wall.
Her shirt is still open, and so are the stains on her bra and her messy hair. It seems like she didn't tidy herself up in the bathroom.
“Did you spill something on my desk, Minji?” For the moment you think that's what happened. Every clue provided to you is telling you just one thing, and you're pretty sure you got it right. Maybe she'll apologize, and you're going to say it's nothing and help her clean it up. She'll then thank you and say you're such a nice person.
Well, it sure is a possible series of normal things to happen.
Unless Kim Minji brings a crazy plot twist for the two of you only.
“No, I didn't.” And step by step she approaches you. The way she walks draws your eyes to her slick legs and the uniform skirt she's wearing: dark gray as always. But it hangs way higher than usual, so high and short that you almost catch a glimpse of her underwear.
You're just standing there still, wondering why she’s acting unprecedentedly strange. You don’t even recognize that she’s already just in front of you. You’re trying your best not to look at her breasts even when she slowly squats down to the floor.
“You dropped this.” You realize when Minji hands it to you that it is a switch. That she wants it in your hand and that she wants to see you flick your finger on it and turn it on.
“Minji, is this…?” There is only a shy grin on her face. Swear to god, you didn’t even imagine in your dreams that such a thing would happen to you. You’re yet to escape the stage of denial, to be honest. Where was the heads-up to begin with?
“Wanna try turning it on?” Her tone is so casual that you didn’t get it the first time. You’re just totally dumbfounded. Minji sees it, knows it and understands it.
“Go on, do it.” Her eyes are on your fingers. Her teeth dig into her bottomlip. Her eyelids flutter. Your thumb is now on the switch, ready to flick it on. Your thumb presses on it, just enough for the knuckle to whiten up, but not really turn it on.
Her arms hug your neck, and the moment she does, you flick the switch up. You didn’t mean to, but when she hugged you your thumb automatically moved so it was turned on with a clicking sound. An embarrassed gasp leaves your mouth.
But when she buries her face in the crook of your neck and moans all the gibberish improvised excuses building in your head washes away.
At the risk of sounding grandiose, it’s rather the situation she lures you in that is overloading you mentally. It hasn't even been 5 minutes since you ran into her.
“Y-you know…” At this point you can’t even imagine what’s going to unfold. If she confesses that she is in fact an alien from Saturn you’ll sense no absurdity. You’ll just breathe it in.
You feel her body shaking by how her weight changes every second. And you’re standing there like a dumb statue, not knowing where to put your hands, even when she’s almost climaxing mere inches away and your lust is getting completely heightened by it.
“I’ve had a crush on you for so long…”
No one couldn’t have ever anticipated that. For a moment you forgot to breathe; Minji has taken it away. And when she bites into your shoulder you gasp, feeling the tingling sensation rushing down your spine.
“I’ve liked you eversince the first time I saw you by the way.” She’s struggling to make her words distinguishable in between moans and hisses, while you’re struggling to come up with a proper reaction to what you’re currently experiencing.
This whole situation you find yourself in is so foul and so hot given that she’s one of the most admirable students of your school. She was supposed to be out of your league and yet somehow the timid and quiet boy is who she wanted all along.
“You’re going to make me cum…!” Hearing it coming through her lips makes your head spin, makes your cock throb painfully inside your pants. You don’t even expect yourself to think straight, nor want to think straight.
During the day she’s a model student, then after school she becomes a kinky pervert. It’s the least possible thing in your life to happen and yet here you are.
But when she cums and squirts on your pants, you’re proven very wrong.
“I… I like you.” Out of breath she whispers, still cumming and you support her by her bare waist. You switch off the toy and just let her go through the bliss of post orgasm.
As she comes down her arms let go of you, still panting. “Do you like me too?” That’s not even a question, as her eyes are on your shirt and her hands are already halfway down unbuttoning it.
“Minji…” You take her already open shirt off of her arms before fondling her breasts over her bra. Your eyes are fixed at the pair in your hands while you can feel hers glaring into your eyes.
“Mhm. Go on. Take as much as you like.” Her hands seductively unbutton your shirt, one by one, from the top down. She’s not in a hurry but in a matter of seconds your top vanishes. Then she puts her lips dangerously close to yours, hovering and tickling your lips with subtle skims.
“But don’t forget to let me do the same, okay?” She sounds so full of confidence but her face is as red as yours. The eyelock doubles and triples the heat between you two and when the distance is completely eliminated by a messy lip lock, your heart begins to beat out of your chest.
Her tongue is aggressive inside around yours. Her hand is already a hand of a luster, already sneaking down on your pants sending shivers up to the crown of your head so easily. You grab and unhook your belt, and Minji purrs delightfully when she sees your erection spring out ontoher belly.
“This is a yes, right?” Minji pushes you lightly, just enough for you to know that she wants you on the desk. Her tummy brushes against your erection as she climbs up to face you again after swiftly removing her bra. You’re met with her mouthwatering pair of breasts pressed against your bare chest.
“I don’t understand why…” Her fingers trace down your jawline to your lips. The placidity oozing out from her words is making you fret over—inside, you want her to take advantage of this one-way situation as much as she can. Your hands find her sweaty tits and fondle them softly, and she moans with a dreamy smile.
“But you kinda make me feel things. Unexplainable, but certainly that’s more than just love.” It's an overwhelming lust you obviously planted in her. You can see how ripe it is, and now you’re reaping it. It’s sweet, the flesh, the hue is so mature and obscene.
“Say something, hmm?” When you part your lips to say ‘I like you too’, however, her tongue ties a knot on yours. You feel the pace suddenly upshift when she strokes your cock slowly and when you involuntarily moan and flinch. Your breaths overload your lungs while your mouth has totally fallen by what the intertwined tongues are doing inside.
“Minji… I-I like you too.” You didn’t mean to just whisper it. However it somehow did work as the cue to make her start pleasuring you with her hand.
The smirk on her face is almost a burden to your already weary mind, topped with the anticipating lip bite. And those glaring, sly eyes which eventually force yours to squeeze shut. The sensation is too much for you to take in as it is, so your nails dig into your palms hard and your head tilts backwards.
You don’t look comfortable at all—you aren’t, with all the unreal touches and heated breaths being poured on your skin. But that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying this, of course. Her hand is pumping your cock at a constant rhythm, her groaning voice matches yours as if it’s as tantalizing to her as well.
“I’m glad you said that.” As if her confession was to be ignored by you. It was more of a seduction than a platonic confession to think about. Not that you can properly think while you’re getting mentally wrung by her.
“You would’ve never known…” Minji slows down her hand around your throbbing cock. You open your eyes to be faced with her orbs mere inches away.
Lust doesn’t seem to have dispersed from the jetty pair of pupils. “...how many times you relieved my stress from all the studying.” She continues her lewd confession of her sexual fantasies about you which could’ve been kept a secret… But what more to hide when you two are touching each other’s sex and mixing body fluids?
When your fingers brush against her inner thighs, she hisses and tightens the grip on your cock. Nearing her core, you can feel the moist lust seeping out, leaking and running.
“Do you think about me often too? Who am I to you?” You hesitate. But she doesn’t want any lies. Nor do you.
“You’re just a… the model student of the school. A pretty one. A pretty, smart girl that I run into often.” You amazingly finish the sentence while riding off to the very edge of your patience under her bewitching strokes.
Just enough to feel incredibly heady but still seconds away from exploding on her hand. Your fingers aren’t idle either, as two of those smoothly enter her damp entrance. The tips of your fingers reach her toy inside and you pull it out slowly.
You see her belly flutter from the sensation of it. “Put your fingers in deeper,” She pleads as grinding herself on your fingers, situating you two in a mutual masturbation.
“I want to cum with you.” Her words trigger so many things inside you. Deeper and darker things, something the superficial you don’t possess. Something every guy would hide and keep deep under the surface and wait for the very chance to bring up.
Your fingers move, inside and out while hers move up and down. Both relentlessly, hungrily almost. The desire to see each other drown in bliss is paralleling the desire to feel it for oneself. You’re almost there, hoping that she is, too.
“Minji, I-I am… I can’t-“ You’re miserably stuttering, tongue twisted by how unblemished the sensation is from all sides—her soft hands working ever so hard and hot on the head of your cock, her lewd moans tickling your eardrums. Her face, that face making a look that just screams sex.
In no time you explode first, spurt after spurt in her hands as she still keeps on pumping it with pace. Your groan never dies down until you’re completely out of breath and strength.
Then Minji restarts grinding on your fingers that she stopped when you blasted the turbid pleasure on her fingers. You look up from her cum-coated fingers to her eyes, and it’s a head-spinning hypnosis that beams into your eyes from hers.
Dense, intense, a bit lethargic in a way and flooding with lust—seeing her crush cum in her very own hand, must’ve sent her into another galaxy at least, possibly another dimension. That is what sex can do even to a woman of high status.
“That was so hot. Now will you help me with this?” You already are when you’re snapped back from drifting off in the ocean of bliss.
“I will.” You literally sigh words out as you still are trying to regain your breaths. You lay her down on the desks and crawl up to level with her face, fingers still making the dirty wet sound.
Minji’s face is a mess; it’s red, it’s sweaty, in need, desperate. Her eyes are fixed on your lips, her mouth agape, breathing into your face, it’s hot, her hands touching and squeezing her own breasts, her throat vibrates into your teeth and tongue when you kiss and bite it. And it happens to splash you all at once like a tsunami, but without the premonitory phenomena.
Kiss her neck, jawline and back to her lips. Her tongue welcomes yours, and after a few seconds she screams into your throat airily with her hands holding onto your shoulders.
“I’m close, I’m close, I’m-Oh!”
Hearing her you circle her clitoris with your thumb and it sends her away to bliss. To a heavenly abyss, where she doesn’t want to be bailed out. She’s squirting too, which makes it even hotter aside from her orgasming on your fingers. The watery sound makes you want to push into her even deeper.
You’re hard as rock again in no time after seeing the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, the least touchable girl in your school cum under your body on your own fingers. In school, in your classroom, on the table.
“Oh my god, is that your bag?” It’s a black backpack that her secretion is dripping onto. Minji is more entertained than concerned to your eyes however, and so are you. You wouldn’t mind if your iPad is broken from all the water for now.
“No, I don’t care. Mine is over there I guess.” You’re not sure, but not that you ever want to be. Because your eyes lock before hers darting at your cock on her above her belly. Then she looks into you again. And that’s it.
“Do you want to-“
“Yes.” It doesn’t even need any brainpower to say yes. So you take your agonizingly hard cock to her entrance. First you rub it against her pussy slowly, and it makes her let out a small gasp.
Her hands are on your arms, tightly gripping. Her eyes, they’re fixed at yours, her beauty beaming at you, and it flutters when your tip enters her hot cavern. Her fingers dig a little deeper into your arms, her teeth into her lip, as you enter her bit by bit.
It’s a whole new sensation to be wrapped around the wet walls. And considering that this is your first time, it’s not odd to be totally enraptured and indulge deep in straight away.
“Mmm…!” Your eyes roll back when you push in until you can’t. The world around you narrows down to only you two, hot breaths, sweaty skin and a mutual high that you never want to be detached from.
“G-go on, I’ll make you feel good.” As if you need any more motivation to dive in.
Minji’s coquettish smile is the last thing you see before you spontaneously shut your eyes and groan as you go deeper and deeper. You’re barely breathing, barely thinking, barely sensing anything.
“F-fuck me…”
Her shaking voice cooing those words is a complete switch-off to your reason. She said it shyly, with a burning face and big eyes looking up at you—it must be her first time to do this—and single-handedly sending shivers up your spine.
“Ah… Mmm yes!” You begin to move, and even to the slightest moves she reacts so sensitively. Her walls are wringing around your cock, pulsing and matching her intermittent moans as you gradually, tantalizingly raise the pace.
It’s as if time itself ceased running. Just you and Minji, feeling every part of each other, moaning against each other’s skin, a locomotive with a broken brake. Broken brake, but with a fully functioning accelerator.
As you up the pace her hands find your shoulders for support as yours roam around her torso. Her sharp shoulders, to her perky tits, brushing your thumb on her stomach randomly, overloading her with your touches.
You lack subtlety and it’s even visible to yourself. Not knowing where to put your hands, not knowing what to say, only thrusting in and out and getting so worked up by hearing her moans and her face flooding with sex.
Eyes barely holding on, moans escaping her agape mouth along with her hot breaths, blushed cheeks. Her hands find the back of your head and pull you into a kiss, and it gives you the feeling of being possessed.
Like you’ve become hers.
Like you’re fucking her pussy and now kissing her with intertwined tongues for her, not for yourself. Which somehow, to your surprise, aggravates the lust deep inside you. A hidden need for the dynamics, even unseen to you.
Seems there will be plenty of time for you two to explore it further.
You go even faster in return for the kindling kiss she dragged you into. Her grip tightens, traps you in her arms—not that you ever want to escape��suffocating you with the sloppy lip lock.
And it throws a barrel of oil to your already-flaming fire. Your breath is completely taken by Minji, without any chance to get out, your will is rather on the side of dying with Kim Minji absorbing the last breath you have.
Soon her walls begin to pulsate around your cock, her screams that reverberate in your skull are now about to tip you over into unconsciousness.
“So good… I’m about to c-cum.” Her voice shakes. Your thrusts keep the pace, at a steady rhythm you’re pounding into her leaking pussy. The tightness goes up like crazy, her thighs lock your hips in and it makes you, forces you to discover her inside even deeper.
With every thrust Minji voices out how well your cock is stirring her inside. And the elevating tension in her moans lets you know how close she is to-
“Cumming…! Fuck!”
A trance. It is a frenzy, an ecstatic upheaval that overwhelms your patience, that demolishes the dam and lets whatever behind the wall flood in.
When her fingers dig painfully deep into your head, when her teeth leave an intaglio of her love, when her legs lock you in, for you to join her with the heady pleasure…
A streak of benumbing orgasm shatters your nerves as you paint her stomach and her heaving chest. It seems to never end, spurt after spurt until the repose is here. You can only stare at her—her still high face, cum-coated breasts and tummy heaving up and down.
You both are taking in the messed up view of each other, eyes locked but no words or signals delivered. You just stare into her eyes hoping that she makes a move on you first. To take you where she wants, perhaps. Another round could be awesome, but either way you’ll be so satisfied.
Together. With Minji.
“Let me bring something to clean-”
“No.”
Her hands snatch yours. Not strongly, but just soft enough to let you know what she means.
“Stay here for more… With me.”
******
“Hey. So… Can I ask you exactly when?”
Dark purple sky, humid breeze of midsummer. Clouds that showered the earth with their own bodies are now completely gone, and you and Minji are walking down the street towards the sunset.
“It was when you picked up my notebooks I dropped. You were putting on your headphones. Hair was just long enough to look good, and on top of everything… What I fell for was the smile on your face. I don’t remember the date it happened, but it was special. So special.”
Her fingers then sneak under your palm, in between your fingers and lock with yours together. It’s warm and soft. A romantic placidity under one of the most beautiful sunsets you’ve ever seen.
Her thumb lightly brushes on the back of your hand as you keep walking down the serene road. “But I don’t think you’ve wanted to do this since then, right? Not complaining, but it was quite an unexpected way of confession. Especially from you.”
Minji giggles with her crescent eyes looking down at the ground. “It’s been only weeks… I got so stressed out from studying and one day… I tried touching myself then I suddenly thought of you. Since that day, you know, it’s been like that.”
But there’s no shyness anymore. It’s not a secret anymore, at least between you and her. Nothing is. Nothing will be.
It’s a hot thing to think about. A girl touching herself thinking about you. And that girl being Minji is what surpasses your imagination. She even got caught pleasuring herself in your classroom today-
Or even that was part of the plan. You think of asking her about it, but at the same time, you don’t want to make any gaffe come out of your mouth. Right now is where the tinge of romance should fade in, not that.
“You can, you know, call me honey… If you… want…” Minji’s grip on your hand gets tighter as her shy laughters follow. It immediately makes your face burn. You look at her and find that it’s doing the same to her too.
“Okay, Minji-I mean, honey.” You feel your face drumming to the beat of your heart. But it doesn’t hide the happy smile on your face.
A girlfriend.
And a boyfriend.
It’s mutual from now on. The first love in your life starts.
“It’s my home already.” She stops in front of a white two-story house and turns to you.
“Alright, goodbye, honey.” You let her hand go but it doesn’t leave yours. Instead, a zesty grin blooms on her face and she hums an airy chuckle.
“Not before this.”
Her lips find yours. They don’t open, but it’s a kiss filled with heartiness, a long peck, with an artificial smacking sound made by her.
“See you tomorrow honey!”
******
It is raining just like yesterday; you forgot your umbrella just like yesterday too. And you decide to stay at school until it stops.
As if you’re seeing a deja vu of yesterday.
Only if you could see a deja vu of yesterday.
Minji didn’t run into you today. She didn’t come to your class to say hi. She didn’t come to her class.
She didn’t come to school today.
The day passed uneventfully just like yesterday. Class after class, lunch breaks and “see you tomorrow”s from classmates. But painfully, the only one who said it yesterday with a kiss wasn’t here to keep her words.
And the day ended just like that. No sign of Minji.
“You heard that?” Just before you put on your headphones, something penetrates your ears.
“Minji moved to New York!”
What?
You almost shouted but managed to deal with that.
First, it’s denial that hits you.
“What do you mean? I saw her just yesterday!” The other guy looks as confused as you are.
Second, the word ‘why’ comes up in your head.
“I don’t know, man. Everything I heard was the teachers talking that there was a sudden incident that left no choice for her family but to move.”
Third, denial again.
You wanted to stand up and ask them, but what you are going to get is a weird look and a “Why do you even care?”
Didn’t she tell me ‘see you tomorrow’?
It’s all complicated for now.
Maybe you yourself are to blame for not asking your girlfriend’s number.
But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?
It was your first love, starting hot yet pure.
Now it’s as if all was a reverie.
The air you breathe hasn’t changed, the classes you attend were the same, it rained like yesterday, and your umbrella stayed at home again.
But there was no Minji, although you still hear her merrily say-
‘See you tomorrow, honey!’
******
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Thinking about baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara that starts to invite you over to do activities more often during his weeks with Gabriella, saying it would be good to show your daughter that you both still had a good relationship with each other. Which struck you as odd since you two genuinely have always gotten along anyways but you decided to ignore it and brush it off.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who invites you over to his place on a hot summer day, saying that he’s having a pool party with a bunch of your friends. Insisting you bring the guy you’ve been talking to so he can finally meet him and totally doesn’t want him there to prove to him that he’s not worth your time.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who can’t keep his eyes off you when you come out to the backyard after having changed into his favorite a bikini, asking Mj to help you apply sunscreen on your back. Wishing it was his hands rubbing it into your skin instead.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who rolled his eyes when your not-boyfriend-but-more-then-a-talking-stage guy finally arrived over three hours late with the wrong type of beer, seeing him come in with a pack of Bud Light when Miguel was strictly a Modelo man. “Accidentally” squeezing his hand a bit too tight when he shakes it.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who made sure to keep telling stories about you two from your time together, not sparing any details as he and all the guys/dads gathered around the grill while Miguel turned over the carne asada y Pollo asado he was grilling. Not even caring about the looks your new boy toy would throw at him. His best friend Peter and his brother Gabriel both shooting each other a knowing look.
Baby Daddy!Miguel who took the aux from Peter and switched the music over to his spanish playlist, totally not on purpose starting off with the song Que Malo from Bad Bunny, then immediately after the playlist start to play Eres Mía from Romeo Santos, you didn’t even have time to think about the song choices before Miguel dragged you over to dance per your daughter’s request.
—
“I’m sorry Peter, but if I have to hear you play it wasn’t me from shaggy again, I’ll lose it.” Miguel exasperated as he unplugged his friend's phone mid song, earning a protest from Peter, but Miguel just shook his head as he plugged his own phone. “You’ve placed that song at every function since we were 18.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small squeal of excitement as Bad Bunny took over the backyard. Singing along to the song as you pass around another round of drinks to the guys at the grill, completely oblivious to the subliminal message that Miguel was sending you as you recited Ñengo Flows part. A new modelo in each one of the guy’s hands (well except your talking stage, he had a Bud light), it seems that your new little friend didn’t seem to understand a lick of Spanish, the message of the song completely flying over his head as he nodded along to the beat mindlessly.
Once the song ended, the new one played, Eres Mía, your brows scrunched a bit at the sudden genre changing. You were in the middle of crossing the grass lawn to where Miguel’s phone was sitting next to the speaker to change it, when you suddenly felt the small fingers of your daughter’s hand dragging you back.
“Mami! Ma! Baile con Papi! I love it when you two dance to these songs.” She begged, you usually wouldn’t mind doing so when she asked you too, but since the guy you were talking to was here, it would feel awkward if he watched you dance something as intimate as bachata with your ex. (Mommy ! Mom! Dance with dad!)
“I-I don’t know Gabi-“ You started, once you finally stopped in front of Miguel, your face filled with a bit of confusion on what to do. Miguel noticed and waved his hand as if reassuring you it’s no big deal.
“He won’t care, right bud?” He said as he nodded towards your guest, but before he could say an answer Miguel’s hands were already wrapped around the small of your back, as he started to guide you through the dance.
You just decided to go along with it, it’s not a big deal right? It’s only one dance.
—
Part 2<
Part 4<
Not proofread.
Word count: 700
Taglist: @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanamee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi
(If you Would like to be added pls say so, I’m sorry if I missed anyone lmk if I did!)
#Spotify#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o hara fanfic#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara au#spiderman 2099 x reader#astv miguel#astv spiderman 2099#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara spiderman#miguel fanfic#miguel ohara blurb#miguel o’hara blurbs#miguel ohara#miguel ohara drabble#spiderman 2099 fanfic#bd!miguel#baby daddy!miguel
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"I had to talk to you."
Repost from other account
2.4k words
CW: Heavy flirtation, canon divergence (S4 end events didn't happen), College Student!Steve, Steve has shit eyesight
October 13th, 1989
Steve sighs, leaning back on the drivers side of his 1983 BMW. Burgundy paint starting to chip on the hood, the car becoming less appealing day by day. Girls passing by not even looking in his direction anymore. He was old news in Hawkins after people found out he had finally started at a college half an hour away in Fort Wayne. Just starting his life like everyone else did 4 years ago just wasn't appealing to most girls.
At least not Hawkins girls.
But at this point he didn't care. He was proud of himself for pulling his life together after all the bullshit he had been put through. With saving an entire town too many god damn times. Cutting his dad off when his parents divorced. Moving out to get a rented house with his best friend Robin. Just what he learned he needed over time.
Getting into a good school by himself with no help was just a cherry on top of the fuck you sundae he graciously served his past problems.
He was satisfied with what he had right now.
Dustin walks out of the new game shop in the newest strip mall to grace Hawkins. Steve looks up, pushing his Ray-Ban sunglasses onto his head.
"You made it out before, Robin. I'm surprised." Dustin glanced at the instrument shop a few doors down, then back to Steve. "You get what Eddie needed?"
"Mostly yeah. She's still getting her trumpet fixed?" Steve shrugs at Dustin's question and slides his sunglasses down in place again.
"She probably got distracted looking at something shiny and new. You know Robins crow brain sometimes." Dustin laughs, looking into his bag, shuffling a few things around inside.
Steve looked over at the liquor store at the end of the strip mall. Looking back at Dustin, he taps the top of the car. His head snapped up, eyes a bit surprised at the sudden noise.
"You want anything?" Steve asks, tilting his head back towards the store.
"Coke? If they got it." Dustin simply replied before getting in the back seat. Steve nods and walks to the liquor store.
The bell chimes over his head as he walks through the door. He takes in the warmth of the store and the radio playing over the speakers on the ceiling. Such a nice contrast to the crisp Autumn air outside.
He turns heading down an isle of assorted liquor bottles and bar accessories before finally stopping at the fridge. Humming along to the song over the radio, mumbling the lyrics to 'I wanna know what love is' absentmindedly.
Sliding his glasses down his nose, he squints at the selection. All the labels are blurry the farther he is, he steps forward rubbing his eyes and sure doesn't help with the florescent lighting blinding him from above.
God I need to get my eyes checked.
Opening the fridge, he grabs the 3 soft drinks and a 6-pack for later when he hears a metal scrapping and whoosh next to him. Followed by a muffled but panicked "Shit!"
Looking over, he sees the back of a squatting woman struggling with a metal shelf slipping out of one of the fridges.
Walking over, he quickly puts his things down and pushes the shelf back in. The metal shelf, cold against his warm skin as he reaches into the fridge, fixing the fasteners back into place.
An issue he's all too familiar with working at Family Video. The fridge racks always got loose and every time it happened he was always made to clean them up. He could only imagine the mess a bunch of glasses and beer would have made.
"Thank you so much!" The woman speaks as Steve stands up, slowly closing the door. Looking back, he finally sees your face. His lips slightly part as you continue talking, he can't hear a word you're saying right now.
All he can hear is the very oddly convenient Foreigner song playing over the store radio as he takes in every detail of your gorgeous face. From your shiny hair to your bright smile. The vibrant colored nail polish on your fingers you're waving as you talk. You're unfamiliar, he's never seen you before, but you're an absolute stunner of a woman.
Steve never thought of himself as a love at first sight kind of guy. But right now he was undoubtedly being proven wrong by the spark he was feeling, not to mention the nervous knot in his stomach.
"But really you're a life saver... Thank you." You stop talking, looking at him. Your face falls as he perks up, realizing he's just been staring like a complete idiot this entire time.
"You're welcome!" He spoke, choking almost over how inappropriately loud he was for a second. Feeling the effect of not talking to women for a while really hit him. You look down at his soon-to-be purchases.
"Full Sail Amber. Good beer." You comment, making him look at the floor and nod.
Crouching down, he grabs his things and stands cracking his head on one of the fridge door handles. His sunglasses fell off his face and onto the floor. He stands up wedging his soft drink between his side and arm. Rubbing his head with a hiss.
"You okay?" You ask with a slight chuckle. Bending down, you grab the sunglasses, Steve moves his hand, grabbing the bottom of the door handle to shield your head from injury.
"Yeah, thanks." Before he gets to put his hand out to take his Ray-Bans back, you slide them on his head with a soft smile.
God she's so fucking pretty.
"You're welcome. And thanks again for... Saving me from paying for a full shelf of beer." She turned down the isle to another part of the store.
Part of Steve wants to follow you and try chatting you up, but the slight embarrassment of hurting his head just keeps him from doing so.
He turns, goes to the front of the store and makes his purchases. Heading outside, he walks to his car, finally seeing Robin in her usual spot, the passenger seat. Opening the driver's door, he slips in.
"There you are!" Robin looked at him, her trumpet case in-between her legs on the floor of the car.
"What's with the face?" Dustin asks, Steve looking at him in the rearview, glaring.
"Shut up Henderson." He hands them their sodas, moving to close his car door when he hears the bell from the liquor store chime.
Out you walk, starting across the parking lot to a top-down red 86' Volkswagen Cabriolet. Steve freezes, staring again. He really can't help but stare.
"Oooh." Robin and Dustin both taunt him, making him sigh. He needs more friends, fewer annoying friends.
"She's pretty." Robin says looking at Dustin.
"Too pretty to talk to, apparently." Dustin adds, laughing as he looks back at Steve.
"I talked to her in the store." Dustin raised his eyebrows, pushing his baseball cap up a bit.
"You asked her out?"
"No." Steve watches you load your bag into the back seat and start pulling the top up on your car.
"Not too late!" Robin smiled, taking a sip of her drink. Dustin looked at her.
"He's not gonna do it."
"No, he's gonna do it."
Steve feels like he has a devil and an angel bickering on his shoulders right now. His foot meets the new asphalt of the parking lot as you open your driver's door.
He's quickly out of the driver's seat.
"Holy shit he's doing it." Dustin comments as he shuts the door on them.
He stops at the bumper of his car, hearing your car engine click over. Music pours out of your open windows before you turn it down quickly.
The universe is screaming at him to talk to you when he starts hearing that familiar Tears for Fears song, 'Head Over Heels'.
Please don't pull away, please don't pull away.
He nearly sprints across the parking lot out of fear of missing his chance. Upon reaching the car, he knocks on the back window, pulling you from looking for something in the console.
"Hi..." He says awkwardly, approaching the window. Leaning on the door, he smiles as you smile back.
"Hi. You need something?" He gets so agitated that you smirk up at him.
'Why'd you have to be so God damn pretty?'
"Sorry if this is weird, but I had to talk to you." He started, finally being able to say something. Your eyes go half shut with a soft nod.
"Talk to me?" He nods, clenching the door frame for a second. "Go ahead then. Talk."
His eyes go wide in surprise at your sudden confidence. Steve stammered for a second.
"Uh... At the risk of sounding crazy or desperate... You're probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life." You can feel your body warm up as he gives the most genuine smile you've seen on a man in a while.
"Mmhm, go on."
"Are you by chance single? Or like... Are you even attracted to men at all?" He asks, sheepishly smiling.
"Yes, and yes." Your smirk slowly turns into a grin as he squats to eye level now, feeling a bit more confident after your answer.
"I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington." He smiles again hearing you reply with your name. "Are you new to Hawkins?"
"I am actually. I just moved here from the city and needed to stay nearby for school."
"Where are you going?"
"Trine University." His eyes go wide, the same school he goes to. What are the odds?
"Really? I actually go there too. Education major." You look him up and down. You never pegged him for the teacher type.
"Software Engineering major."
"So you're smart and gorgeous. Good to know." He smirks, finally feeling like himself when talking as your flush finally becomes noticeable. "You like movies?"
"What kind of psychopath doesn't like movies?" He laughs at your response, leaning in closer to the window.
"Lemme be more specific. The new Halloween 5 movie came out today. You interested in seeing it? Maybe with me tonight at the drive-in theater in Lafayette. We can have dinner after. All my treat, of course." He can see the sparkle in your eyes, that spark he felt looking at you before is still lingering around him.
"What's in it for me?" You playfully ask. He cocks his head to the side, leaning it on his arm for a second.
"A fun night out with a gentleman, I promise I'm fun." You chuckle, rolling your eyes, he knows you want to say yes. "Please?"
He'd never said please before when asking a girl out. It didn't feel embarrassing like he thought it would. You turn your attention back to the console looking for something.
Pulling out a napkin and pen, you quickly write down your number and address. Turning back, you hold it out to him as he takes it.
"I'm free at 8. And dress nicely. You're taking me somewhere decent after the movie."
"I'll take you to the most expensive restaurant I can find if that's what you want. I don't care. As long as I get to see you again." You laugh at his bluntness, it's like music to his ears.
"That won't be necessary. I don't need to be spoiled."
"What if I want to spoil you?" That caught you off guard as you didn't respond right away. He let a soft breath escape his mouth. "You like roses?"
"White roses." You reply, he nods, standing up again and folding the napkin, storing it in his back jean pocket for safe keeping.
"I'll be sure to remember that." You two just stare at each other in silence for a minute. No man's ever looked at you like Steve has right now, it makes your heart race from nervousness.
"I'll see you at 8 o'clock then." You look past him for a moment and back to him. "Tell your friends I said hello since they like to stare so much."
Raising an eyebrow, Steve turned his head. He sees Robin poking her head over the roof of the car and Dustin sitting on the rolled down window frame. They quickly hurry back into the car, noticing they've been caught. He should be embarrassed, but he fully expects their behavior from being friends for so long.
"Ignore them." Steve says, sighing as he looks back at you. "I'll see you at 8."
He turned away towards his car, trying to stay as confident as he was before turning his back. Reaching his car, he pops the door open, clutching it for dear life as he silently collects himself. Robin poked her head across the driver's seat to look up at him.
"You good dude?" She asks, concerned but also excited as he just nods.
You pull out of your parking spot, stopping behind his car and honk once to get his attention. Dustin pops his head out the back window as Robin looks out her open door. Steves head snaps up at you as you lean on your window frame, chin on fist with the most shit eating grin on your face.
"See you at 8 sexy~" You called to him. And then you have the balls to blow him a kiss before peeling out of the parking lot.
Steve silently gets in the car. Robin shuts her door as Steve does his. Dustin sits forward looking at Steve, who's just gripping his steering wheel, the adrenaline starting to wear off.
"Dude, she's so into you, into you!" Dustin breaks the silence as Robin nods.
"And I'd say it's the same for Harrington here." Robin grins as a massive smile spreads across Steve's face.
He starts excitedly thrashing frontwards and backwards. Enough to shake the car and look like he's about to rip the steering wheel from it's column. He lets out an excited yell, causing his two friends to laugh at him.
He let out a long breath, looking at them.
"She says hi by the way."
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beyond forever and eternity
✱ husband!bc x fem!reader
— love cannot survive on luck alone.
w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff warning → chan referred to as chris, quite the amount of kisses, mild cussing, and the usual very ew-you're-so-in-love behavior. also, reader is addressed as wifey twice! a.n → based on this request! but friends, i think you need to stop me from all this domestic chan thing because i!! am!! dying!! from!! all!! the!! cuteness!!ㅠ /j ⋆ see masterlist
the past year had felt like the best time of your life.
sure, the first 6 months were filled with one heck of an emotional rollercoaster—a bunch of final wedding preparations, taking care of all the confusing legal papers, making sure your new home with chris was up to both your expectations, and actually having the wedding within the span of 180 days made you wonder if everything was real.
the latter part of the year is when your new reality starts to sink in. some days, it happened when you woke up next to a softly snoring chris—curls as messy as a bird’s nest, yet you couldn’t help but tread your fingers through those dark locks. some others, it happened when you watch his back while he showed off his newly acquired cooking skill, giggling away while chris convinces you—though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself—that everything’s going exactly to plan.
other days, however, it happens simply when you caught a glance of the stack of beautiful silver bands on your ring finger, gleaming softly under the light of your cozy living room. you’d then look at your husband sitting next to you, faint crease decorating his forehead as his gaze focuses on a project he’d been working on for the past hour or so. you’d gently bring your finger to tap on those crease, immediately erasing its existence as chris shifted his focus towards you, gaze softening along the appearance of his dimpled smile.
being married to chris had felt like coming home—like he has always been everything you’ve been looking for and more.
“has it started?”
chris’ soft voice along with the warmth of his arm snaking around your waist swiftly snapped you out of your trance, gaze returning to your husband’s smile. you silently shook your head, instead wrapping your arms around his waist and gave into his warmth while allowing a content sigh to slip past your lips. “wasn’t paying attention, honestly,” you admitted, to which he immediately returned with chuckle.
“you’re sleepy?” he gently planted his lips on your forehead while running his palm on your side. “wanna call it a night?”
“no!” you whined, lips pursing in protest. “i’m not sleepy. besides, it’s only like 2 minutes till new year, and i want to spend the first seconds awake with my husband,” you playfully emphasized—and there it was. the rosy bloom across his face quietly surfaces despite chris’ attempt to play it cool, and it never fails to amuse you.
guess it won’t be hard for you to bet that you’ll never be the only one in love in this relationship.
“gosh, wifey,” looking at you with a scrunched nose, chris finally let the adoration bubbling in his chest win when he playfully ruffles your hair—which, of course, earns a string of protests from you, “do you really love me that much?”
“think so,” you stuck out your tongue, eyes twinkling as you decide to further tease your now-red-as-a-tomato husband. “i think i love you so so so much to the point i might pass out. i mean, how can i not? you’re charming, you’re adorable, you’re handsome, you’re hot as fuck—how do you expect me not to? i’m just—“
you haven’t been paying attention—but again, how could you? your gaze had been fixated on chris’ beautiful features, taking notes on every minuscule scar and freckles painted across his blooming face; but as the plush of his lips shuts off your rambling ones, warm hands cradling your equally warm cheeks,
you could hear the fireworks within you harmonize with the colorful blasts outside the window of your hotel room.
you know you’re lucky—despite believing in the concept of soulmates, you know there are universes where your path with chris’ remains as distant, separated parallel lines. you know that nurturing your relationship with chris will have its ups and downs. you know what you have now with chris will forever be both unbreakable and fragile,
and you’re determined to turn your every day with chris as special as it could be.
“happy new year, wifey,” he mumbled quietly, lips fixed into a smile as it grazed against yours when he finally pulled away. pads of fingers tucking the stray strands off your face, chris followed the kisses across your face—on your forehead, your closed eyelids, your rosy cheeks, your soft jaw, before he returned his lips home onto yours.
“thank you for staying with me—for promising your forever to me, and i’m looking forward to spending my eternity with you,” with a smile apparent on his lips, his gaze were soft as he tenderly peered into your glossy ones.
“i love you—more than words could ever explain.”
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#bang chan fluff#stray kids drabbles#skz drabbles#bang chan drabbles#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#bang chan imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#bang chan scenarios#stray kids au#skz au#bang chan au#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#bang chan fanfic#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#bang chan x reader#stray kids x you#skz x you#bang chan x you#stray kids#skz#bang chan#isa's fics
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Casual
Baby Billy Freeman x Reader
Summary: Reader has been a close friend of the Freeman Family her whole life. She and Baby Billy have to hide their intimacies out of fear of Aimee-Leigh getting angry. Running around in secret can only last so long after all.
cw: oral f!receiving, fingering, angst
a/n: Reader and Baby Billy are in their mid to late twenties(?), this is prior to Eli and Aimee-Leigh getting married. Also omg a smut piece with a plot? We love it.
~~~
Heads bowed as Eli Gemstone prayed over the food you were about to eat.
You sat at the Freeman’s family table after Church on Sunday, like you had been doing for years now. Beside your lifelong best friend, Aimee-Leigh. You had grownup alongside her and her family.
“Amen!” Everyone proclaimed in unison.
You sat between Aimee-Leigh and her brother, Baby Billy. The round table giving everyone view of each other. You all made your plates, passing around the giant bowls of food. You passed it along to Baby Billy. He made sure his fingers touched and lingered on yours as you handed it to him. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he winked at you.
You and Baby Billy had had a secret fling going on for years. Sneaking off at almost every family function to see each other. Kissing behind bushes, down on your knees behind trees deep in the woods, sometimes just hiding somewhere so you could sit and talk without the fear of people talking. Or the fear of Aimee-Leigh hating you both. You both decided it never had to be anything serious.
You squinted your eyes at him, smirking in response.
“So, Baby Billy, you think you’re ever gonna find yourself a lady to settle down with?” Eli asked, pulling Baby Billy’s attention off you. His mouth hung open slightly, “Uh— n-nope. Not yet anyway, Eli. I’ve got time before I have to— um— find anyone.”
“You aren’t getting any younger, son,” his father chimed in, not looking up from his plate.
“Well now that dear ole Aimee-Leigh has found the one, it’s about time for you too. I mean, what about Y/N? Y’all have known each other since diapers!” His mother agged him along. He choked on the bite of food he was taking. Hand jumping up to cover his mouth and cheeks that were growing red. You both grew extremely embarrassed and quick. Mouthfuls of “um”s and “well”s falling from you both as you awkwardly looked at each other.
“Mama, don’t say things like that,” Aimee Leigh glared at their mom slightly.
“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” their mother threw her arms up, giggling slightly.
“Ooo what about that one Baker girl from Sunday school? She was talking about you the other day, Baby Billy!” his sister teased. Your face flooded with jealousy. Choking on your water slightly.
“Woah, Y/N. You alright?” Aimee-Leigh asked, passing a napkin to you. Water dripped down your face and chest.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” You excused yourself from the table, heading to the bathroom down the hall. You stood alone in the small bathroom, lower back pressed against the cold countertop of the sink. Two shadows of shoes was your cue to quietly open the door. Deep hazel eyes stared at you, white teeth forming a silent grin. Turning the handle to discretely close the door behind him.
“Hi, Baby,” you breathlessly whispered, a smile all over your face. Rough hands cubbed both sides of your face, lips crashing into yours. Tongue darting into your mouth, exploring the familiar taste.
“Hi, darlin’,” Baby Billy rested his forehead against yours, smile matching yours. His hands ghosted up your sides, feeling every inch of you. His lips pressed into your neck. A small moan fell from you. His pelvis pinned yours against the cabinet under the sink.
“You performed really good today, Baby,” you complimented him. Your hand dancing on his back.
“Thank you, babydoll,” he kissed up your neck resting his lips on your jaw. He bunched some of your dress in his hand, “You wore the dress I love, I had to put on the best performance for you.”
After the first time you all had found yourself snuck away from his family, things escalated. You were both young and had been dancing around each other your whole lives. When Aimee-Leigh’s Birthday Party rolled around, somehow you both ended up sneaking into your special hiding spot in the woods around the lake. Sitting together on the small overhang of land that oversaw the beautiful, moonlit water. You would come here often to think.
“You know Aimee-Leigh will kill me if she finds out we did this,” Baby Billy caressed your face, a tender kiss being planted on your lips.
“She’d kill me too, Baby,” you laughed quietly. He joined you laughing. He wrapped his arm around you, your head falling onto his shoulder. Hands gripped you tightly against his side.
“This isn’t… like we aren’t gonna…” he sighed, his words fighting him.
You felt your heart shatter in your chest, stomach doing a flip. Your eyebrows furrowed, unable to hide your thoughts. You leaned up to look him in the eyes.
Baby Billy stared into your eyes, all words completely leaving him. His mouth ran dry. Silence as you both stared back and forth. No words being spoken, but you both understood.
“I— We… can’t do this… to Aimee-Leigh,” Baby Billy softly spoke. You fought the tears forming in yours eyes. Planting a false closed mouth smile on your face. “I want to,” Billy’s eyes darted between yours and your lips, “I’ve wanted you for a long time, Y/N. But…”
“We can just keep it like this, Baby,” you looked forward at the water. Fireflies danced in front of you.
Baby Billy’s gaze stayed on you. If this was the only way he could have you, this would be good enough.
It had to be.
You giggled as he pecked kissed down to your collar bone. He took a deep breath against your skin, “And you wore the perfume I like? Shit, you’ve been thinking of me.”
Baby Billy placed his lips back to yours. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Your hands ghosted up his chest, wrapping around his neck. He ran his hands behind your thighs, urging you to get hop up onto the countertop. “Lemme get a better look atcha,” Baby Billy smacked the back of your thighs.
You propped yourself on the countertop, spreading your legs and allowing him access to stand between them. He ran his hands up your legs, checking your body out completely. Your skin tingled at his touch. His body was flush against yours. “Goddamn, I can feel how warm you are,” Baby Billy smiled at you, breath hitching in his throat.
His hands began pulling your dress up to reveal your panties. Stained with the arousal pooling inside you. Bright white teeth curved into a smirk. “You sure are pretty,” Baby Billy complimented staring down at your clothed core. Heat decorated your face.
Baby Billy kneeled down in front of you, hands guiding you to spread wider for him. He shoved your cotton panties to the side revealing your aching entrance. His head tilted for a moment, taking in the full view. Eyes shot up at you before softly pressing a finger to your nub. Your knees locked with the sensation, hand going to cup your mouth to hide the loud moan begging to escape.
“You did such a good job last time on getting Baby Billy off, I think it’s time I repay you for it,” his hot breath felt cold against your core. He plunged a finger into you, curling and pumping it. Your chest heaved with every deep breath you took. Squeaks of pleasure pouring through your fingers.
“As much as I wanna hear your pretty voice, I need you to keep quiet, sweetheart. Let Baby Billy take care of you,” he pulled his finger, replacing it with his mouth. You practically melted when you felt his tongue working magic on your sensitivity. Lust blown eyes stared up at you, his mouth sucking on you. Your breath was shaky as he stared you in the eyes. You rested your head against the wall behind the sink. Enjoying the ecstasy he was giving you.
The coil inside you was winding up with each lap of his tongue. He knew just how to get you there. You rolled your hips against his mouth, getting a grin from him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, you sure are being greedy,” Baby Billy teased you. He stood up, lips finding their place against yours. Your taste strong on him. His fingers found their way inside you again, thumb rubbing circles on your clit. You could feel your body shaking as your orgasm attempted to wash over you.
Your walls began fluttering around him slowly before your orgasm fully took over. You moaned his name into his mouth, Baby Billy deepening the kiss and curling his fingers. Loving the way you constricted around them. “That’s it. That’s Baby Billy’s girl,” he cooed.
“Fuck, Baby,” you huffed out trying to catch your breath.
“You sure do have a dirty mouth, girly,” he smiled.
“Seems to me like you’re the one with a dirty mouth this time,” you teased. He laughed quietly, trying to hide the volume in the room. He planted tender kisses all over your face. You giggled at his soft lips.
Arms found their way back around his neck, your foreheads resting together as you savored the moment. You kissed the tip of Baby Billy’s nose, pulling a happy chuckle from him. He wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you flush against him. His face found its place in your neck, eyes squinting shut as he took in your touch and smell.
The moment passed and Baby Billy helped you off the counter. Fixing your hair and dress for you, making sure you looked the same as before. “There you go, darlin’. Looking as beautiful as ever,” he smiled admiring you standing before him. “Well, better get back before they think something’s goin’ on,” he awkwardly laughed as he attempted to leave.
Hand grabbed the doorknob.
“Baby…” you stopped him. His eyes widened at you, concern written on him, “What is it, sweetheart?”
You swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat. Your body begging you not to do what you were about to do.
“Do you ever think we… we don’t have to hide, whatever this is anymore?” Your eyes stared into his.
“I— I-I don’t… don’t understand,” he stammered. This had worked for y’all for years now.
“Just…” your eyes fell down to the floor, “We’ve been doing this for so long. Are you really still scared about Aimee-Leigh… being mad at us?”
“I-uh- I don’t—“
“Or is that just your excuse so you don’t ever have to commit to me?” You crossed your arms over your chest, holding yourself. Fighting tears that wanted so badly to fall.
“Sweetheart,” Baby Billy took one of your hands in his, “You know… Aimee-Leigh would… you’re her best friend and-and— of course I want you to…” His mind was racing a million thoughts a second. Sweat beamed down his head.
He wanted to be with you. Wanted to call you his in front of everyone. He was so scared of his sister. So scared that she may abandon him over it all. She may leave their singing act. Just run off with Eli and never speak to him again. Somehow he would be in the wrong for being with the one he loves. And he did.
You placed a hand on his chest. His mind instantly calmed down. Body melting at your touch slightly. Desperate eyes looked into yours for an answer.
“It’s okay, Baby Billy. I know your family is the most important thing,” you fought your natural urge to frown.
“Y/N, please—“
“I’ll be alright,” you hushed him. Tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. You forced a smile that you know he knew was fake, “Just go-on back out there with them. Sounded like Aimee-Leigh’s already got someone picked out for you anyway.”
Baby Billy’s brows furrowed heavily. His jaw hanging open. You wanted to beg him to stay. Beg him to wrap you up in his arms and stay here with you for the rest of the day. Small kisses and longing looks being shared. But that wasn’t what needed to be.
You reached around behind him, quietly opening the door for him to exit. Your eyes told him to go. He hurriedly walked out, too embarrassed to look back at you. He stormed off down the hall opposite direction of the family dining area.
You closed the door, leaning against the back of it. It all washed over you. Tears burned down your cheeks. Hand cupping your mouth as to not cry too loud. This was how it has to be. And you had to be okay with it.
You composed yourself and exited the bathroom. Joining everyone back at the table, noting that Baby Billy was missing.
“Where’d he go?” You questioned Aimee-Leigh.
“Dunno. Boy stomped down the hallway. Probably went up to his room,” his father answered.
“Oh,” you responded trying to seem nonchalant.
The sun went down and the cool southern air washed over the land outside. A small fog painted over the lake. You sat outside with Aimee-Leigh and Eli around the fire pit. Wrapped up in the blanket Mrs. Freeman had made you for Christmas a few years back. The couple whispered back and forth silently. Eli’s eyes darted over to you as he nudged Aimee-Leigh.
“Y/N? Is everything okay?” Aimee-Leigh asked you shyly.
You sat up slightly, fixing your posture. “Why, yeah,” you lied, attempting to laugh off her question.
“Ever since you came back from the bathroom earlier you’ve just seemed… off. Did something happen that you didn’t tell me about? You’re my best friend, I want you to be able to talk to me, Y/N,” Aimee-Leigh furrowed her expression as you spoke to you.
“I’m fine, Aimee-Leigh. Sometimes you just have one of those days, y’know?”
The front door creaked open. Baby Billy walked out carrying a fold out chair. Planting it directly beside you. Your attention was now on him. He sat, scooting the chair as closely as he could to yours. He reached under your blanket, taking your hand in his. Fingers intertwining on top of the blanket.
“You don’t have to do this,” you attempted to whisper to him.
Aimee-Leigh and Eli looked at each other, a small bit of confusion on their expressions.
“Aimee-Leigh,” Baby Billy cleared his throat, “I’ve been keeping a secret from you. A secret that has done nothing but hurt the girl I care about most.”
Heat radiated off your body with his words.
“Y/N and I have been seeing each other for a long, long time. I’ve been too afraid to tell you, but I can’t keep hiding this beautiful woman from the world anymore. She’s my girl, and I’m sorry if that upsets you, but—“
“OH MY GOODNESS! I cannot believe you both didn’t tell me!” Aimee-Leigh rushed over to you, pulling you into a hug, then giving Baby Billy the same treatment. You both stared at each other, extremely confused by Aimee-Leigh’s reaction.
“Praise be to God! I prayed and I prayed and I PRAYED that you both would find each other. I knew you and Baby would be perfect for each other,” Aimee-Leigh jumped up and down with joy.
You shook your head in disbelief, slack-jawed completely. You looked at Baby Billy, a giant smile painted his face. Hazel eyes caught yours. He sighed deeply. Complete relief falling off his shoulders.
“We thought you’d be so angry at us,” Baby Billy chuckled in disbelief.
“Angry? Why would I be angry? I’ve always wanted to call you my sister, Y/N,” Aimee-Leigh pulled Eli into a hug. “You were right, Eli. He said he could see the spark between you’ns!”
You all laughed together.
Baby Billy wrapped his arm around you, tucking himself under the blanket with you. You rested your head on his shoulder, your hand against his chest. You watched the embers float into the sky off the fire.
Baby Billy placed a small kiss on your head.
This was where you wanted to be.
~~~
~ Thank you for reading! The Righteous Gemstones has genuinely became one of my favorite shows. I have another Baby Billy fanfic planned, so if you are interested in being tagged in any of my future works or have requests let me know! ~
[tags]
@megangovier ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @justme12200 ~ @heif ~ @itsyellow ~ @cat-shepard ~ @dichromaniac ~ @hiddlebatchedloki ~
#baby billy freeman#baby billy x reader#baby billy smut#fanfic#sexymonsterfics#walton goggins#walton goggins x reader#the righteous gemstones#writing
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˗ˏˋ Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Best Friend! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
・┆✦ Entry : 024 ✦ ┆・
‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, gaslighting(?), gore, body horror, BLOOD, yandere Jinwoo au ]
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Cai Bot Link ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
╰┈➤ ❝ [ Wherever you go, I'm always right there even if you try to hide ] ¡! ❞
"You're just imagining things" Jinwoo says, his nonchalant grey eyes glancing up at you. "You just don't sleep enough."
That's what he always says whenever you rant about the nagging feeling of several eyes watching you.
And you, being the stupid fool that you are— Believed his words.
Jinwoo is a smart and logical person, he's always able to make things just make sense.
So you never really questioned anything whenever he drops his opinion.
But of course, your instincts were never really wrong in the first place.
The itching terror crawling beneath your skin whenever you're alone, the weird chills tickling your spine when you walk in a dark place— It wasn't just your imagination.
The culprit?
He's staring right at right your face with those casual grey orbs.
Jinwoo has placed a bunch of shadows to trail you around, ten maybe 20,... Maybe. Who knows how many he has really placed?
Oh but one thing was for sure, there's at least two of his most powerful line of shadows safeguarding you.
Their duties were two simple orders: Make sure you are safe and sound and eliminate all forms of danger.
Eliminate All Forms Of Danger.
Sure, it could be just some bugs you're terrified of, or making sure you dont come across any dangerous plants along your way.
But their most important task was to murder anyone who tried too hard to come close.
Jinwoo was normally level-headed, he can take seeing you talking to someone else for at least 2 minutes, 5 when he's in a really good mood.
Past ten?
Hah.
'That fucker better start counting his hours' was the only thing ringing inside Jinwoo's head.
He was a jealous man, he'd be quiet but his gaze would grow darker. His ebony locks hovering over his steely gaze, his tongue pushing his inner cheek out as he tries to hold his temper, his foot tapping the floor impatiently as he counts the seconds the bastard went pass ten minutes.
78 seconds.
Jinwoo counted exactly 78 seconds when the conversation finished and your attention would return to him.
Immediately, that hard expression on him would go gentle.
He became quite the actor no thanks to you. jinwoo doesn't want you to have a peek of what he truly is as a person.
Though you were best friends, Jinwoo was a bit handsy with you. Just a bit.
His fingers lightly brushing against your fingers, your cheeks, mostly your ears actually.
Why?
Everyone reacts a certain way when their ear gets tickled.
And he reveled in the shudders and yelps you give him whenever he teases you.
The more you gave him your many expressions, the more and more he drowns in the black hole that is you.
Whatever you do, even the littlest things, his instincts would suddenly go haywire.
Mostly he wants to cherish you, pamper you, baby you like the adorable thing that you are.
Other times? Jinwoo wants to break you apart. Watch you sob, wrists bound, legs incapable of moving— He wanted to imprison you in the land of eternal death. Have you rot in his domain where he wouldn't worry about anyone or anything else breathing the same air as you other than him.
He wanted to love you and break you, and he knew that well. Jinwoo knew of his adoration and destructiveness when it comes to loving you.
You were really like a black hole, sucking him into the void and drowning him in a sea of emotions he never can quite understand.
Perhaps the system had really screwed him up in the head.
The pressure of being a monarch, of protecting this world, of being a vessel of war for several years— He had become twisted and completely paranoid to the point that he just wants control on everything.
And he wanted complete control of you too.
But he stopped himself, several times, he stopped himself.
Jinwoo tried to cut himself off of your life, to delete your memories of him.
But whenever he tried to he could never do it.
Everytime he did, he would just get frustrated and never finish the job.
The more he tries, the deeper he falls into the abyss that is you.
And now here he is,...
Alone in an alleyway, with the beating rain above his head, the water droplets gently dripping off of his black locks. His hand was bloodied as he held the head he had brutally ripped off of the bastard that dared to go pass the ten minute limit. The mangled corpse on the floor had organs spilling out with exactly 78 cuts on it's skin so deep it must have sliced the bone too.
And just like always, you're a witness to this hell.
Scream, cry, throw up— Whatever you do, you would just draw an amused smirk on Jinwoo's handsome features.
His lips would scrunch up on one side, his eyes glowing an ominous color of monarch violet as he lightly tips his head to one side. The stench of blood permeates through the air as the crimson liquid pooled and spread along with the puddles beneath your feet. Everything was now much more terrifying than what it was earlier
You wanted to run, you were afraid of whatever demon that is in front of you.
But Jinwoo wouldn't give you that chance, after all, he is suddenly in front of you— Right at your face.
His eyes were so out of it even though they are focused on yours.
The blood splatters on him was bone-chilling and sickening and yet somehow it made him more handsome.
Jinwoo is always wearing an empty and bored gaze, and yet somehow this psychotic side of him was alluring and dreamy.
Like a fragrant poison you knew would kill but attracted you even still.
"Sssh" Jinwoo purrs sweetly, cradling your face with one hand and then lightly kissing your lips for a short while. "I only did what I needed to do."
" You just listen to me like you always did and forget this ever happened like we've always done"
Forget? Forget how—
Suddenly, your body would go limp and he would catch you. An arm gently wrapped around your waist as he cradles your sleeping form.
Jinwoo would chuckle, pressing another light kiss on your lips,... then your forehead, your temple, your cheek, and once again your lips.
He held the kiss a little while longer.
He loved that expression on your face to be honest, how it scrunch up in terror and disgust. How you would pale oh-so immediately that he can't help but be giddy and want to kiss your pretty little face over and over— Smothering you like the lovely little thing you are.
He has done this so many times.
First, it was some people getting too close.
Second, it was your friends.
Third, these random people who would talk to you for more than ten minutes.
Time and time again, he would bloody his hands for selfish reasons.
Jinwoo wants to be the apple of your eye just as you are to him.
After all, he lovingly placed a legion of shadows in you so that he could watch you the second you are away from his physical body.
"God, I love you so much" He'd whisper, his lips against your hair as he inhales your scent in.
. . . . . . . . .
"Hey," Jinwoo casually greets you the next morning at school, your cute expression in a complete daze from having your memories wiped once again the night prior. "It's a long weekend after today, how about I take you out to dinner?"
ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧・゚: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
#sung jinwoo#solo leveling#sung jin woo#only i level up#solo leveling headcanons#sung jinwoo x reader#ore dake level up na ken#jin woo sung#solo leveling x reader#sung jinwoo headcanons#sung jinwoo x you#sung jinwoo x gn reader#‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆— kyunnie's writings
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I'm a bit curious was it ever confirmed that Shaun and Ian interacted with one another or met before the eventual breakup between Ian and MC. If not what are some of your headcanons on this matter would they have gotten along at all?
Actually, yes, it has been confirmed that Shaun and Ian knew each other before Ian and MC broke up in this comic posted over on the official Sunny Day Jack twitter!
Credit as always to Sauce for their awesome artwork and for giving us this hilarious glimpse into college age Ian and Shaun. Consider supporting them and the rest of the SnaccPop Studios team by joining the patreon for even more lore tidbits I can't even mention publicly. Just remember, don't share anything privately posted!
While a lot of teaser/development art should be taken with a grain of salt, if it appears on one of the official pages, it's a pretty safe bet that it's canon to the timeline of the game.
So this comic, also drawn by the awesome Sauce, while hilarious, may or may not be canon.
I think it's a pretty safe bet to say that Ian did not pass Shaun's vibe check.
The first comic certainly makes it clear that Shaun didn't find Ian attractive considering the way he reacted. Maybe it's due to jealousy (I don't think Shaun wants to think about his crush having sex with someone else) or maybe it's because of Ian's bad taste in anime. Who can say?
Content Warnings: This post contains talk of cheating, jealousy, drinking in excess, (unintentional) self-harm, near death experience, SA, issues with sex, and toxic relationships.
I suspect that these two just didn't get along. Between Shaun suffering from jealousy due to his crush and the two of them having different tastes, they were probably only friendly to one another for MC's sake.
I would imagine that Shaun's opinion on Ian took an extreme nosedive when they found out Ian cheated on MC.
Man... can you imagine how much pain Shaun has been through? He had to watch his best friend/crush be happy with someone else... then get devastated by being cheated on. The worst part was if he had bad vibes from Ian from the start, but he ignored his gut feelings for MC's sake.
When it comes to my personal headcanons that I use for Sunshine in Hell... Shaun and Ian had friction since the first day Alice introduced the two of them.
It wasn't just Shaun being jealous of Ian either. Ian was jealous of Shaun too!
Ian has always suffered from a low sense of self-esteem. Shaun, by comparison, is much more well put together, more outgoing, and has this natural charisma that draws people to him. Shaun is just so likable that he gets a lot of attention and friends. For years, Ian was the exact opposite of that, which led to him being bullied and degraded often.
So one day Alice, his childhood friend and partner, is super excited to introduce Ian to her new friend. Shaun and Alice have a lot in common, and it was very visible in the early years of college when Alice was in the middle of her pastel goth phase. Shaun and Alice had a love for horror movies, cats, the goth aesthetic, and a whole bunch of other things. They clicked so quickly, and it scared Ian a little.
It didn't help that Alice had trouble making friends like Ian did. They had that in common, something that gave them a sort of understanding that no one else could intrude on. Now that they were in college they started making more friends, and that was a good thing, really! But Alice clicked with Shaun about as fast as she did with Ian.
In the 1st grade, one day Alice mustered up the courage to talk to Ian in order to cheer him up. After that they started talking every day and they were besties ever since. From there, they started dating. She's never really clicked with anyone else so fast like she did with Ian...
Until Shaun, that is.
Ian kept comparing himself to Shaun, unfavorably. He kept worrying about Alice falling for Shaun instead since, well, clearly Shaun had so much more than Ian had to offer. Why wouldn't she? What didn't help his insecurities was the fact that they had been a couple since high school, but they still hadn't had sex yet.
I integrated the comic into part of Alice and Ian's troubled sex life. The depicted instance was Ian's attempt at making things romantic so that they could finally go all the way.
It took them a while to start being sexually intimate due to their mutual lack of practical knowledge and Alice's SA trauma. She was very cuddly with Ian, not afraid to kiss him or go into a make out session, but she struggled to go further than that for a long time. It left Ian struggling with insecurities, fearing that he wasn't attractive to her despite her constantly reassuring him that wasn't the case.
Really, it was that insecurity and self-blame that pushed Alice to go further than she was ready for, to pretty painful results that she learned to just accept as part of the experience.
Alice is the type of person who can't be comfortable with people touching her unless she trusts them. However, when she gets close to someone, she can get pretty cuddly, even with her friends, giving them hugs often. So, for Ian, seeing his girlfriend get comfortable hugging another guy... someone he might have noticed looking at her a certain way...
Well, getting cockblocked on his rocky road to losing his virginity didn't help Ian see Shaun in a more favorable light.
Really, this was an incident that pushed Ian to be a bit more possessive of Alice. He was already struggling with the fact that his partner was sharing a dorm with someone else, but for Shaun to just casually walk into her bedroom like that without knocking? Ian certainly had permission to come in there without Alice knowing since he's her boyfriend, and he was planning to surprise her with a romantic evening, but how long had Shaun been just letting himself into her private space so casually?
Ian didn't believe that Alice was cheating on him, but what if Shaun decided to take advantage of her? What if this casual blurring of their living space led to feelings blooming?
What if Alice realized that Shaun was so much better than Ian in every way?
This led to Ian asking Alice to move into an apartment with him, even if it cost them money. He was able to feel more secure when they were living together, and he could be the one going into her bedroom at any hour of the day to be with her instead of someone else.
Shaun did try to befriend Ian, but it seemed like every time they hung out, something would rub him the wrong way. He did his best to be happy for Alice and Ian in their relationship, but it wasn't just Ian's shit taste in anime that struck Shaun as a red flag.
It didn't take Shaun long to notice a pattern in Ian and Alice's relationship. Ian would be down on himself, even cry and apologize for being inadequate, and Alice would reassure him. It seemed like every day, he saw this happen at least once. He tried reassuring Ian as well when he could, but after a while it gets tiring to try and lift someone up who keeps dragging himself down. Shaun would suggest Ian try therapy, and Ian would insist it wouldn't work, he was hopeless, and it wasn't worth wasting money on.
It was only when Alice showered Ian with love, and when their mutual friends bent backwards to cheer him up, that Ian would perk up again.
Shaun saw the red flags going up, how Ian was so needy for Alice and it was wearing on her. She went out of her way for Ian all the time, doing so much more because Ian "needed" her.
What made it worse was that Shaun saw how unbalanced their relationship was, how Alice gave Ian so much more than Ian gave back. Because Ian was so clingy, Alice had to often cancel meet ups with friends at the last minute, citing that he was having a bad day and needed her. Yet, on days when Alice was feeling like shit, she just kept powering through, pretending nothing was wrong. It took Shaun a lot of effort to pry her into leaning on him, and he'd even go out of his way to do stuff for her without her asking, like buying her lunch when she was so overworked she forgot to bring any.
Shaun worried for Alice because she was his friend, and she didn't deserve this sort of treatment. It was like she had become Ian's emotional crutch. Regardless of his attraction towards her, regardless if they could ever get together, he wanted her to be happy.
Shaun's opinion of Ian slowly deteriorated over time, but it turned into downright hate when Ian cheated on Alice, especially after she almost died because of it.
It was just a normal night when Shaun got a phone call from Ian. It was about Alice of course. It was the only reason Ian ever called Shaun - to check up on Alice. That night was different because Ian was in a panic. Alice wasn't picking up for him, which was unusual enough, but Ian was insistent that Shaun needed to check on her to make sure she was okay.
It was lucky that Shaun had the spare key to the apartment Alice and Ian shared. The sight of her lying unconscious in a pool of blood in the bathroom is a scar that'll forever be etched in his memory.
Shaun spent an entire night terrified, wondering what had happened. Did Alice try to kill herself? Why? She might have been missing Ian after he moved across the country, but she always reached out to Shaun and others when she wanted company. What happened that night? When he mentioned Alice's state to Ian, he just wailed that it was all his fault and Shaun couldn't reach Ian after that, as Ian was busy trying to book a flight back home to see her at the hospital.
Shaun had to be the one to call Alice's family too, but he had no answers to give them. The doctors would only let family or her legal partner see her for a while. It was only the next day that he learned that it was all because Ian had cheated on Alice, and she drank to dull the pain, only to hurt herself under the influence of alcohol poisoning.
Shaun could've kicked himself. He saw the problems in their relationship, but he didn't think it was his place to say anything. He worried his jealousy was coloring his perspective, seeing things too negatively. Now he wished he pushed harder like his gut told him, got Alice to see that the relationship was no good for her.
When Alice forgave Ian and tried to make it work, Shaun couldn't just sit back and let it happen.
So, yeah, Shaun's opinion of Ian in the present day is very negative. He views Ian as a toxic, manipulative, cheating scumbag who didn't deserve Alice. It was a relief when he managed to help Alice see that too so that she could finally end that toxic relationship. He was there for her so many nights when she cried over Ian and missed him. He saw the pain Ian put Alice through, and it just made his hatred of Ian grow.
Ian is grateful for Shaun being there to help Alice and even getting her to the hospital, but that doesn't get rid of his jealousy. Shaun and Alice are still talking even though she never picks up the phone for Ian anymore. He sees their exchanges online. They're still close. Shaun could one day sweep in and...
Ian can't let that happen. He can't let Shaun steal away the person who means so much to him. He can't let Alice just let him go like this. He just has to apologize to Alice, keep apologizing, and everything will be fine.
Sooooo... yeah, suffice to say, Ian and Shaun do not get along, and I doubt that they ever will... at least in my headcanons.
@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps
#Sunny Day Jack#Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack#SunnyDayJack#sdj#swwsdj#Headcanon Ramblings#Sauce-y Art
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screaming, crying, perfect storms - ryan leonard ☆
wc: 1.3k
tw: angst. new beginnings. depression. yelling?
ryan leonard x oc
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
frankie was doing good, cool, and fine. everything was just fine, and that little 'just' was enough to make everything not fine for the youngest hughes.
the girl felt stuck in a never-ending loop and she had no idea how to get out of it.
she had recently come to the realization that everyone she knew was making progress with their lives. they were either already doing what they loved or were working for it.
while she stood and watched, stuck. she didn't know what she loved; it's not like you can sleep in your boyfriend's arms for a living, right?
the poor girl was just bored with her life. sure, she had friends and a boyfriend and had finally managed to pass her classes, but at the end of the day, that's all she had.
she needed a change and she needed it fast.
frankie and summer were currently walking through the streets of nyc. frankie had fallen into a depression and summer being her best friend had decided to take her on a shopping spree in hopes to uplift the girls poor mood.
they had been playing around in one of the dressing rooms when a tall beautiful woman approached them.
"hi, I've been watching you two for the last twenty minutes, and you guys are gorgeous. my name is eloise simons, and I'm with IMG Models. I think you two would be perfect for this new summer collection; I'm going to give you two my card and you guys can go ahead and give me a call if you want to set a meeting up," the lady said, handing them a card that looked pretty legit.
the two girls looked at eloise speechless, not knowing whether or not she was joking.
"i know this is very out of the blue but I have a vision and a good feeling about you two and I just need to act on it" she said with a smile.
"thank you. we'll have to talk it over, though," summer said as frankie had seemed to go mute. the lady let out a smile.
"that's better than a 'no'. please, if you even have any questions or concerns, just give me a call." she said before bidding the girls goodbye as the best friends eyed each other with a wild look.
"if this is a prank, it's really mean," frankie said, breaking the silence.
"it's not," summer said, looking the number up and it, in fact, being real.
"oh my gosh, what are we going to do," frankie said as summer smirked.
"we have three months off" she cheekily smiled
"are you saying what i think you're saying?" frankie said
"a new york summer?" summer said excitedly as they both jumped up, squealing.
___
frankie walked into her apartment with about twenty bags to find ryan, will, gabe, jacob, drew, and aram sitting around her living room. playing video games.
"what the hell," she said, eying the boys as ryan stood up and helped her with her bags.
"you said i could invite the guys," ryan said with a smile
"I know, but it never sounds like a lot till I see them," she said as they all waved at the girl.
"wait, is summer back, too?" gabe asked as frankie nodded. the boy quickly stood up and bid goodbye to his friends before walking across the hall to his situationship.
"we're gonna head out too," will said, standing up, eyeing the rest of the boys who didn't move.
"i'm comfy" drew whined
"forts," will say with a glare as he huffed and stood up along with jacob and aram. the boys gave frankie a hug and bid ryan a goodbye before walking out.
"how was your day" ryan said as he put his girlfriends bags down.
"amazing! you won't believe what happened," she smiled, thinking about eloise.
"what happened? what did you even buy?" he asked nosily as he looked in some of the bags.
"a whole bunch of cute outfits. I bought you some things, too," she said as she pulled out some items in the bag for him.
"this is sick" he said as he eyed them. frankie smiled as he tried it on for her, watching him. she smirked before pushing him down onto the bed and straddling him.
"you look so handsome," she said, kissing his neck as he squeezed her sides.
"you're in a good mood," he smiled, looking at his girlfriend. he had been really worried about the mood his girlfriend had been in these last few weeks. she was either always mad or sad nowadays, and it made him happy to see her so happy.
"yup. I got a job today," she told him as ryan eyed her warily. don't get him wrong, he loved her but she was lazy. he thought hell would freeze over before she ever got a job, a job in new york as that.
"a job?" he said confused
"yeah, it's for the summer but if I like it I might end up doing it forever-"
"what kind of job is it?" he asked warily, seeing as she was tiptoeing around the fact of what the actual job was.
"modeling," she said as she squealed.
"you want to be a model?" he asked confused.
"well, I don't know yet. summer and I got scouted today and we want to give it a try. but if I like it I'm going to keep doing it" she explained
"what about college?" he asked. he was excited for her, really, but he was afraid she was being irrational. a thing he learned about his girlfriend is that she did things without putting much thought into them.
"well, I haven't thought that far, but I'll drop out if it comes to it," she said as ryan raised his eyebrows.
"why are you looking at me like that" she asked with a frown. she was honestly getting annoyed with how ryan was taking this. she was so excited and his reaction was honestly ruining her own.
"this is a big decision, frankie. I don't think you're thinking it all the way through-"
"i am thinking it through. that's why i'm only trying it-"
"you just said you're gonna drop out"
"I said if it came to it," she said, getting off his lap. she didn't like the way he was acting.
"i just think you're not thinking it through-"
"stop saying that! i'm not some naive little girl!" she said, getting frustrated and raising her voice.
"don't yell at me," he said in a serious tone that irked the girl to her core.
"I'll yell if I want." the stubborn girl stood her ground.
"i just want you to think about what you're doing-"
"I'm not some dumb kid, ryan!" she said taking the bags off her bed.
"well, you're acting like one," he said below his breath, but the youngest hughes had heard it, and it shattered her feelings. he knew one of her biggest insecurities, and he decided to gut her with it.
"get out," she said shaking her head with watery eyes
once ryan saw those sad eyes, he knew he screwed up.
"babe-"
"please just go. we'll talk tomorrow," she said, sniffling as he came to wrap his arms around her.
"I didn't mean that, I'm sorry," he said in her hair.
"i know. I just want to be alone, please," she said, pulling away.
ryan eyed the girl, his girl, wanting nothing more than to beg for forgiveness on his knees all night, but knew he screwed up and she needed her space. he nodded before kissing her cheek and walking out.
leaving frankie to sit, cry, and drown in her thoughts. more sure than ever that she was going to go through with this.
#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#hockey fic#ryan leonard#gabe perreault#bc hockey#will smith hockey#frankie x ryan#ryan leonard x reader#ryan leonard imagine#frankie!hughes
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hey yall!
soooo there is a situation with gracieispunk and i had a long time ago and with all this drama going on i felt like it was time to explain my side of things.
story under the cut
months ago (if you were on tumblr in september) i wanted to write a maintenance man joel x male reader but, since i started on wattpad i wanted to make sure i got gracie’s explicit consent before even writing it, around september i texted her, but she never responded.
it’s now october at this point and my friend tags me in a WIP game so i post my drafts and along with my drafts i post my maintenance man draft and at this point i couldn’t figure it the title for the of my fic so i just put “maintenance man — maintenance man!joel” and then i wanted to give me asking her another chance, so i went in here ask page and see if she was able down to talk.
she responded to my WIP and finally we got to talking
*here are the screenshots and proof that it was september that i first texted her in september, proof that she responded to my WIP game and then we talked
as you can see, she blocked me shortly after that, this is when i had a full blown panic attack and i had to call one of my best friends that helped calm me down and made me realize some things, but i couldn’t help but see if gracie had posted something about this situation, and she did.
but a couple days had passed since the situation (this happened in like a span of a week might i add) and a lot of people, whom i’ve talked about the situation with, has stated that people can’t own a character or anything and i made the conclusion that im still going to write maintenance man joel for the male audience, a whole different thing, inspiration and plagiarism are two different things!
the male community is tiny compared to the community that i don’t write for. i would understand if i was just stealing her idea, word for word, but that’s not me. at all.
i forgot to mention that a bunch of authors that i had looked up too, to come out of my shell in the writing world had blocked me, i don’t know what gracie told them, but all that i know is that a lot of authors blocked me, maybe they had their own reason, i don’t know.
but, all of this drama with basically putting small writers down, i would like to say i was one of them in a sense, where i literally almost quitted my future career. but im glad i told people about the situation and everything, because if i hadn’t, i possibly would’ve deleted tumblr and not made any of the friends/acquaintances that i have now.
so if you wanna hate me? go ahead. support me? i love you. shit on me? make me feel bad about myself? try it, i do it every day. i’m not posting this out of hate for no one at all, im just here to write and have a good time.

#support writers#sweetenerobert#gracieispunk#hate me or don't i don't care i just want to write#pedro pascal x male reader#joel miller x male reader#small writer
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Hi!
I have a new story for you that I didn’t expect to have lol.
I had a prior engagement this weekend but I checked FetLife and there was a party that the ler I usually get tickled by was at. I wasn’t dressed as appropriate as I normally am for these but I figured why not go? My birthday is this month so try and get some birthday tickles lol. The worst thing they can do is tell me to go home.
I get to the party and I decided to give myself an hour-hour and a half and if it wasn’t happening, it wasn’t happening. This one was Pride themed and BIPOC was encouraged, but even though I’m BIPOC, I didn’t expect much being a cis male.
As usual, people are paired up and playing with their friends. My ler is pretty busy in the non tickle world so she was doing a bunch of things. I watched (which was allowed) and did my best to stay out of everyone’s way. Sometimes at these parties, there are pay to play dommes and I was trying to avoid that.
Luckily I was accidentally too close to another scene because the owner scolded me for doing so. After a light scolding, I apologized and he introduced himself to me. It gets even luckier because just when I was about to leave, the guy took pity on me and some other wandering straight men and introduced us to the dommes. They asked what I was into and I told them tickling. Two of them were interested and told me and the other guy who was not into tickling to come back in a few minutes.
When I came back, I asked the guy who was waiting if I could go first. He obliged so I went with my domme who was this beautiful curvy black woman who liked anime and also looked like Willow the pro wrestler lol. I didn’t have any tools on me since I didn’t expect to go, but there was an X rack there. I didn’t really want to use the rack because I don’t like the stretching feeling but there was also nothing to strap me into the rack. The domme told me to hold onto the X’s and if I let go she wouldn’t me. I don’t like hitting in my play so it was an easy reason to not let go.
And then holy crap…
This was one of the hardest tickle sessions I had because even though I was unbound, I didn’t want to risk the pain part so I am holding on for dear life as this domme is scribbling all over my sides, my tummy and my chest. My knees melt buckling but I managed to hold on. Tickling was not her forte but her nails would make you believe otherwise. The domme would work her nails along my sides and my then down to my tummy and scribble faster before going back up to my chest and my ribs and then down my back. She would slow down then speed up with very little breaks in between. I’m sure if I asked for a break I would’ve gotten one but I didn’t want to break.
Everything she did tickled. The worst was when she would start to slow down to caress my chest, getting me to catch my breath before slowly starting up again. The way her nails slowly dragged up and down my sides and ribs just made me laugh more. I told her that it tickled when she did that too and she laughed and just said “Good” before starting up again.
Then things got more intense when she lifted my shirt to the top of my head and began tickling under my arms. I almost broke a few times and dropped them and she might have even given me a pass or two but my poor underarms could were struggling to take it lol
This went on almost nonstop for at least 10 minutes. It’s probably the best upperbody tickle I’ve gotten in 5 years. The challenge of not being bound but not wanting to let go really added to it. After we were done, we exchanged FL names and I ended up running into the other domme. She had someone else she had to play with but she told me to stick around and she would maybe tickle me while her sub got ready.
This one was a completely different experience because once again I was unbound but the second domme who was slender and had glasses and lingerie, started asking me questions about how I fit into tickling. While she was doing this, she began tickling me! Example:
Her - “You said you got into it through cartoons? How was tickling on cartoons?”
And then she’s tickling me while I’m trying to tell the story of interrogation on shows like Ninja Turtles.
She kept adding on…
“Interrogation? Like what? What were they looking for?” And scribbling my sides and underarms while I’m in the chair trying to laugh and explain what happened.
“Information!!”
“Information? What kind of information. Tell me”
And this went on for a little bit until her sub was ready. She also told me the her one ticklish spot and how interest she was to tickle more. She asked if I had my feet tickled yet and I didn’t. Seemed like it could’ve happened but her person ready
I waited around but the other person’s scene was taking a really long time. I ended up getting up and catching up with my ler friend who spoke nicely to her friends about our tickles and introduced me as her “tickle guy” which I was okay with because I would rather people know up front. She and I didn’t get to play but it was great catching up with her.
I tried waiting some more but my battery was ready to die on my phone and with the trains in NYC the way they are, I didn’t want to be stranded so, I went to go home. I really wanted to stay because the device I could’ve been tickled in after Domme 2 was done looked similar to this
I always wanted to be in that scenario and the first domme I had and two other dommes were having fun with the other guy, so there was potential for me being next with all of them after they were done. I just couldn’t do it because of the phone and time.
But overall I had such a great experience. It was great meeting such friendly and dangerous dommes and not have to pay extra outside of the fee to get in. I only wish I took my shoes off earlier because some foot tickling could’ve happened (even though the upper body tickling was soooo good) and to bring my charger lol. I hope to have another session like that happen again in the future.
Thanks for reading!
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Aim for the Sky Part 10 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: With a little help from his best friend, Bradley rushes to the hospital, panic overtaking his system at the thought of something happening to one of his girls. He was supposed to be the one to take care of you. He felt like he failed.
Warnings: Angst, hospitals, injury while pregnant, potential pregnancy complications, vomit, blood, fluff
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Bradley felt wrappers and empty bottles crunch under his combat boots as he climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Nat had the engine started, and she was tearing through the parking garage without a word. This may have been the first time he didn't have the desire to complain about his best friend's driving or her filthy SUV. He felt too numb to really consider anything except time ticking away on the digital clock on the dashboard.
You were fine this morning. Maybe not great, but you definitely didn't appear as though you were going to collapse at any moment. The only thing Bradley knew was that you passed out in your lab and hit the floor pretty hard. When he begged Nat for more information, she just shrugged, her brow pinched with concern while he cried. At least she wouldn't expect him to say anything at the moment, and she wouldn't even get mad if he threw up like he wanted to.
If anything devastating happened to you or Rosie, he didn't know how he was going to deal with it. He should have been checking on you more often at work. He'd been listening to you telling him you were going to try to eat more even though you weren't feeling well, but he hadn't pressed you to do so.
"Oh, god," he choked out, the afternoon sun and bluebird sky mocking him now as he sobbed into his hands. Nat whipped around a corner, honking at someone, and he didn't really care what happened as long as she got him to you and his daughter as quickly as possible. He had been in the car for six minutes already, winding through Coronado, and he was starting to panic more as he thought about how long you might have been unconscious. Or worse, maybe you were still unconscious now. He couldn't think about anything beyond that, because when he started to slip into that unsettling headspace, he felt his hands shake as bile stung the back of his throat.
"Nat, I can't live without her," he gasped, subconsciously knowing he was talking about both of you. Her hand reached out to squeeze his briefly before returning to the wheel, and he watched as she actually cut around a public transit bus to make a turn.
"We're almost there," she promised, and he nodded as his head tipped back against the headrest. If you and Rosie were okay, he was never going to willingly leave your side again. He'd been worried about someone bumping into you at the fucking Hard Deck, and that was nothing compared to this.
"What am I gonna do?" he whispered, eyes squeezed closed as he ran his sweaty palms along the rough fabric of his flight suit, his breathing starting to get erratic. It was his privilege in life to take care of you. Anything you needed or wanted, he'd hand it to you on a silver platter. But the only thing he needed and wanted was his little family. "Fuck."
"Bradley," Nat snapped, shaking him roughly by his bicep as she careened into the hospital parking lot and made a straight shot for the emergency room entrance. "You need to keep it together. Do you understand?"
"Yeah," he gasped, images far more terrifying than anything he'd ever thought about circling his brain.
"If something happened to the baby, your wife is going to need you to be strong."
Her words left him reeling, because he knew he'd never be as strong as you were. That was part of why he loved you so much. And Rose would be just like you, and he'd have two silver platters ready as soon as she was born. He swallowed hard as her SUV came to a screeching stop in front of a door that said AMBULANCE PARKING ONLY, and he fumbled his seatbelt with shaking fingers before jumping out onto the curb and running inside.
There was an elderly man in a wheelchair and a kid with crutches. Someone with a bloody bandage around their head was moaning in one of the seats, but he didn't see you as he came skidding to a halt in front of the check-in desk. "I need to see my wife. She's pregnant." The last word came out like too much of a question for him to handle, and he had to grip the edge of the desk for support while the woman behind it looked up at him with a neutral expression.
"I'll need to see your identification and get approval before you can go back," she told him smoothly as he yanked his military ID out of the badge holder he was wearing and handed it to her. "What is your wife's name?"
Bradley recited it to her quickly and reverently, watching as she typed away on the keyboard in front of her. "Do you know if she's okay? Can you check if she's alright?" he begged, squeezing her desk again as she slowly shook her head.
"I'm sorry, sir, but all I can see is which room she was taken to and which doctors are working on her case."
"But she's pregnant," he repeated in desperation, hoping that if he said it again, the words would still be true.
"I understand," she said smoothly, handing his ID back to him along with a medical bracelet with the date and time stamped on it. "Put that on your wrist, and have a seat while I see if someone can take you back to her."
Bradley stood there, even more numb to his surroundings than he had been in Nat's car. His ears were ringing, and he had a disturbing metallic taste in his mouth, making it harder and harder to swallow as he swayed on his feet. Based on his extensive military training, he figured he must be going into shock, but he would force himself to remain alert until he saw you for himself. Until he felt his daughter moving.
He could hear the woman pick up the phone and say, "Can someone let me know the visitation status of the patient in room seventeen? Her husband is here." There was a pause before she added, "Yes, I checked him in, and he has a bracelet on."
But she wasn't paying attention to him, and he was already moving now toward the double doors that said EMERGENCY ROOM ACCESS: STAFF AND PATIENTS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT WITHOUT ESCORT. He needed to get to you immediately, and everyone else could literally fuck off. He'd take the double doors right off the hinges with his bare hands if necessary. In fact, he would be more than happy to do so. But as he approached them, ready to get through by any means necessary, one door swung open as someone in scrubs strolled through, and he ducked right inside.
Room seventeen. He read the guide on the wall and rushed down the hallway to his right. The thudding of his heartbeat and the sound of his own breathing was almost deafening as he ran. The fluorescent lights were making him dizzy as he read the number on each door. But then he saw it. Room seventeen was straight ahead, and the door was open a few inches, light filling the gap as he started calling your name. He was almost there as the tears started up again, and he was pushing his way into the room as he rasped, "Baby Girl," at the sight of you on the bed.
----------------------------
When you woke up for the third time, you were so dizzy, you turned your head and started to gag. "It's okay," came an unfamiliar voice in the freezing cold room with too bright lights. "I have the garbage can ready for you."
That certainly was convenient. Just when you needed to throw up all of the contents of your stomach, someone was there to help you out. You never had service like that when you were battling morning sickness unless Bradley had been around. You made horrible noises as you heaved, the room still spinning even as you tried to ease yourself onto your back once again. You wanted to say thank you to the unknown voice of the blurry person next to you, but instead you asked, "Where am I?"
"The emergency room at Sharp Coronado Hospital."
That really didn't make any sense. You'd just been at work. Today was your birthday. Bradley was taking you to the hot sauce restaurant for dinner. Then your brain fog began to clear, and you started kicking at the white blanket that was keeping your legs warm in the freezing room. You were in a hospital gown, and when your hands came to rest on your belly, you realized you couldn't feel the baby moving. At all. You shifted your hands around frantically, and while your body was painfully tender, you could feel nothing. No somersaults. No squirms. No kicks. No thumps. Rosie was never this still.
"What happened to my baby?" you asked, voice wrecked with unchecked sobs as the woman beside you set the garbage can down and reached for your shaking hand. "I can't feel her!"
Something caught on the hospital gown, and you realized there were stitches running the length of the side of your swollen left hand. Your rings were missing, which was also scary, but you couldn't think of a single good reason why your daughter wasn't moving around inside your belly when she was always so active.
You sobbed loudly as the woman with you took your hand in hers, and you realized she was trying to calm you down as all of the equipment you were connected to started going crazy with loud beeps. Your pulse and blood pressure were through the roof and getting worse as she finally said, "The baby is okay, but we can't have you going into shock again. Listen to my voice and take deep breaths."
"Why isn't she moving?" you shrieked, still fighting to keep your hands on your belly.
"Because you're on pain medication," she said, and you finally realized there were two sets of monitoring devices, and the one with the wires that led to the band wrapped around your belly were giving a much calmer readout.
"Is that her heartbeat?" you asked, pointing to the screen that was displaying the pattern you were used to seeing when you were at your appointments with Dr. Morris.
"Yes, the baby is just fine. The obstetrician on rotation checked her out by ultrasound before we even stitched up your hand and wrist. But you need to stay calm while the medication starts wearing off. You've got extensive bruising, and we're still treating you for a possible concussion, but we can't keep you on the painkillers for a prolonged amount of time, okay?"
The words almost made sense, but they just didn't. And you couldn't stay calm, because you wanted Bradley. Hot tears leaked from your eyes as you tried to take a deep breath, but you shook from nerves and cold. Your teeth were suddenly chattering so hard, your jaw felt like it was snapping, and you could have sworn you heard someone calling your name. As the nurse took a step away from you, that voice started to sound louder. You squeezed your eyes closed, trying to collect all of your thoughts, but there was no mistaking your husband's voice.
"Baby Girl!" he called out, eyes frantic and face far too pale as he pushed the door open and rushed to your side. His pupils were blown wide as he reached for you, and when he closed his eyes, you saw a tear streak down his face. He blinked a few times like he couldn't be sure you were real, so you reached for his face. He dropped to his knees next to the bed as he took your hand gently in his. "Are you okay?" came his shaky question, and you tried to nod as your teeth chattered. "Is Rosie okay?" His words were filled with something terribly close to agony, and you started crying harder.
"Yes," you whispered, trying to pull him closer. He would keep you warm and make you feel so much better, but his whole body was wracked with horrible sobs as he scooted closer until his lips were on yours in the gentlest kiss.
"Oh my god," he said, voice breaking as he cried. "Oh my god, Sweetheart. You're both really okay?" You were nodding in a jerky motion as his hand slid down to your belly, and you could have sworn the baby squirmed just for him. "I was fucking terrified out of my mind. I'm so sorry I wasn't with you. I love you."
His lips were kissing along your cheek as he kept his arm wrapped around you like you were capable of getting up and running away at the moment. As if you would even want to. It wasn't his fault this happened. It was an accident. You could remember listening to Bickel talking about your new list of tasks and the borrowed equipment from Lemoore, and then you just hit the ground. It was evident that you weren't doing enough to take care of yourself as it felt like your whole system was changing again in your third trimester. You needed to do better.
"I'm okay," you insisted, running your fingers through his hair. He melted into your touch, his face finally relaxing slightly as the color came back to his cheeks. When the nurse cleared her throat, you realized you forgot she was there.
"Sir, I don't think you're supposed to be in here."
Bradley was shooting her a nasty glare as more members of hospital personnel, including a security guard, walked into your room.
"What did you do?" you whispered as your husband held onto you just as gently as ever, but now he was shaking his head.
"I'm not leaving this room until my wife and daughter do," he told everyone in a loud, commanding voice. "You can be pissed off or whatever that I didn't wait to be escorted in, but I'm not going anywhere."
The security guard looked at the nurse, and she simply shrugged in response, but you stopped paying attention to them when Bradley turned back to look at you, his brown eyes wide and sincere as he said, "I'm here now, and I'm not going to let anything else happen to either of you."
Finally, you were able to warm up in his arms, and you calmed down a little bit more with each subtle squirm you felt from the baby. Bradley was kissing along your fingers, being mindful of your stitches when he froze. "Sweetheart, where are your rings?"
----------------------------
Bradley wished he smelled better and was wearing something softer, but you didn't complain about the faint scent of jet fuel or the scratchiness of his flight suit as he whispered over and over again how much he loved you. He didn't move an inch from his spot on the floor next to the bed as an emergency room doctor came to check you out again followed by an obstetrician.
"You may have preeclampsia, but you'll need a diagnosis from your own doctor based on historical data from your entire pregnancy. It's hard to tell whether all of the excitement from today is responsible for your high blood pressure or if it's the other way around."
"Preeclampsia," Bradley repeated, giving your fingers a little squeeze. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"It can be," you whispered, and the doctor nodded in agreement.
"Bottom line," the doctor said, tapping the line of fluids being pumped into your body, "you were severely dehydrated and seemed to have a reaction to undereating. The stitches in your hand can be monitored from home until you can see your own doctor next week, so we can discharge you tonight. As long as you keep eating and drinking and stay off your feet as much as possible for the next few days. Healthy meals and rest."
"Okay," you whispered, looking so small and sad in the hospital bed that Bradley wanted to protect you at all costs.
"So I can take them home?" he confirmed, wanting nothing more than to get you cleaned up and changed and tucked into the king sized bed with a tray of food. When the doctor nodded, he sighed in relief.
He had been checking his phone sporadically, which finally helped him solve the wedding ring mystery. Cat took them off of you in the ambulance when your fingers started to swell, and she promised she had them with her. He also knew Nat let Tramp out and was ready to stay the night with him if necessary. She even let him know that she dropped his Bronco off in the hospital parking lot with Jake a few hours ago, and that someone was sitting in the waiting room, ready to give him the keys whenever you got discharged. He wasn't sure who it was, but when you were finally discharged and nearly falling asleep at ten o'clock, he was surprised by what he found.
As the nurse pushed you toward the exit in a wheelchair, Nat, Bickel, Cat and Jake all got to their feet in the waiting room. You burst into tears as Jake handed Bradley his car key and knelt down next to you.
"Don't cry, Angel," he drawled softly. "On second thought, maybe you should cry. Even after waking from that concussion, I hate to inform you that you really are married to Bradshaw." He gave your cheek a little kiss as your tears turned to laughter as he stood up again, and Bradley rolled his eyes.
Nat gave Bradley a hug while Cat fussed over putting your rings onto your right hand for the time being. Then Bickel said, "Do not report to work until you've been cleared by your doctors, Lieutenant Commander. I don't care if that's in four days or four months."
You looked worried now as you ran your fingers along your stitches. "Sir. Did I... break the lab equipment when I fell?" you whispered, and even Bradley could tell by Bickel's face that you probably did. "I didn't mean to."
But there was a reason you liked your boss so much, and you visibly relaxed in the wheelchair as Bickel said, "I'm worried about you, not the equipment, Lieutenant Commander. I'll check in with you on Monday."
When Bradley was finally helping you into the Bronco, you had tears in your eyes, but you looked a lot more relaxed than you had earlier. "I'm so tired, Roo," you whispered as he buckled you and Rosie in with a kiss to your belly.
"I know," he replied, pretty exhausted himself. "I'll take care of everything, okay? I'm just sorry you're not having a better time on your birthday."
When you looked at him and softly said, "It's much better now," he swiped at the tears on your cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm sorry I scared you, and I'll be better about eating, okay? And if I have preeclampsia, I'll make sure Rosie is my number one priority every day, even if I feel awful from forcing nutrients into my body."
Bradley smiled and said, "I just wish I'd been able to take you to Del Mar tonight so you could enjoy some hot sauce." Just then, his phone started ringing in his pocket, and he thought perhaps it was your parents; they'd been biting at the bit for more information after he texted them throughout the day.
"Who is it?" you asked, and he sighed as he checked the number.
"It's the bar I reserved for the evening," he replied, ignoring the call until he got you home.
"Bar? For what?"
He kissed away the rest of your tears and murmured, "Our private silent disco. That's what I got you for your birthday."
You gasped and pulled him close, and even as you cried more, you said, "You're the best husband who ever existed. And I ruined my own night and scared us both half to death."
"Shhh," he coaxed. "We can go a different time. As long as my girls are okay, nothing else really matters. Now can I take you home for a slice of birthday cake and get you snuggled in bed?"
"Yes," you sniffed.
Not even fifteen minutes later, you were standing in the kitchen in your bra and underwear, eating a slice of the cake that said 'Happy Birthday, Baby Girl' which he'd hidden behind a bunch of things in the refrigerator since yesterday. Per the doctor's instructions, he made sure you had plenty of water to drink before he got you in a warm bath and helped you wash yourself.
"Come in," you said softly, stifling a yawn. "I didn't get to do any of the other stuff you planned for my birthday, but I want you in here with me."
With a deep, exhausted sigh, he unzipped his flight suit, your eyes glued to his every movement. His body was aching now from the rush of terrified adrenaline earlier and how much he'd worried about you since arriving at the hospital. He held your left hand above the water and slipped into the tub behind you, his body automatically relaxing as you eased back against him. Then he placed your hand on the edge of the tub to keep your stitches dry, and he held you as he whispered, "I love you," before setting his hand on your belly.
Finally, your heart rate felt normal again, and as the water got cooler, he could tell you were starting to doze off in his arms. He whispered the birthday song, and a smile crept along your lips even though your eyes were closed, and eventually he had to coax you out of the bath and into bed.
Just as your birthday officially ended, you were laying on your side snoring softly, and Bradley kissed your shoulder before he reached for the blue and pink striped notebook and a pen from his nightstand. While he was pleased you were able to fall asleep, he knew he'd be up for quite a while still, processing everything that had happened. The terrible thought of losing you and the baby left him with the realization that he didn't know if he'd actually be able to cope with something like that happening. It made his skin crawl all over again, but he knew he had to process it somewhere.
Hey, Rosie. You'll learn pretty quickly why I love Mommy's birthday so much. Actually, you'll learn pretty quickly that I try to make every day special for her. It's because she makes everything better for me just by being around. Her smile can make the worst day incredible, and her laughter makes me feel like I'm falling in love with her all over again. But today was her birthday, and it was one of the worst days of my life. I was scared that I was going to lose something that could never be replaced. Something I can't live without. I would do anything for you, Rosie. And I would do anything for your mom.
--------------------------------
When you first woke up on Saturday, your entire body was aching from your fall. For a second, you swore you could hear Bradley and Phoenix talking in the other room, but when you rolled onto your other side with Rose thumping around, you fell asleep again before you could investigate. When you woke up for the second time, you were absolutely certain you could hear Bradley talking to your mom.
You pulled on a random pair of sweatpants and a stretchy maternity tank top, making a stop in the bathroom before heading down the hallway. When you peeked into the kitchen, Bradley had the iPad propped up on the counter, and he had your cutting boards and cookware out as your mom chatted away.
"You have to peel the carrots just like you would a potato, and then you can cut them into pieces about this big."
"Right," he replied, slowly peeling the orange vegetable in this hand and then slicing it while your mom watched. "Should I put it in the chicken broth?"
"Not yet," she instructed. "Wait until you're ready to add the celery and put them in at the same time. And it never hurts to add a few extra carrots."
"Got it," he told her, setting aside three more carrots on the counter. "And tomorrow morning you'll help me with the chicken pot pie again?"
"Of course I will," she promised. "And I'll show you how to make tomato sauce when you're ready."
"Thanks." He wiped his brow with a dishtowel, voice thick with emotion as he said, "She scared me half to death yesterday. I need to make sure she's eating and drinking enough. When Natasha went grocery shopping for me earlier, I had her get these hydration packs that you can add to water along with cases of Gatorade. So those should be good. And if you help me cook every day, I'm hoping she can start to stomach food again."
"It sounds like you have everything under control, but if you want me to fly out, I can be there tomorrow."
Bradley wavered for a few seconds, but ultimately said, "I can handle it with your help over FaceTime. I'll take care of my girls."
"I have all the confidence in the world that you will," your mom told him. "Call this afternoon when she's awake, okay?"
A few seconds later, after he ended the call, you walked all the way into the kitchen while he was filling the crockpot with chicken broth. "Are you making me soup?"
"Sweetheart." He sloshed some of the liquid onto the counter in surprise and then pulled you into his arms. Your stomach was growling, and Rosie was doing somersaults, and you could see the playset in the backyard through the window. "Yeah, chicken noodle soup for dinner, but I can get something else for you now."
You couldn't stop smiling as he listed off all of the food options for breakfast and lunch. "My mom was right. I also have all of the confidence in the world that you'll take top notch care of us."
"You heard my conversation with her?" he asked, running his thumb gently along the skin next to your stitches as you nodded. "Listen, if your parents move to Coronado, I can get my culinary lessons in person. And then I'll have two more people to help me look after you, because to be honest, it's getting harder by the day, Baby Girl. Now how about some avocado toast and a small slice of birthday cake for breakfast?"
----------------------------
Take care of your girls, Roo. They mean more to you than anything else. His journal entry made me cry. Rose is already so loved, and I can't wait for her arrival. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 11
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