#every saturday and sunday i make up my mind to move on from him but oh monday will come and the moment i lay eyes on him

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 14

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.2k

Note : Hey lovelies!! Sorry for those I missed in the tags last time! My notes has been weird latter and I accidentally deleted a bunch so hopefully now you’re all back here again! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Never Ask to be Forgiven”

Saturday.

You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the too-clean white ceiling, your ears trying to find comfort in the beeping that marked your heart rate. The pain was still there, a dull throb radiating from every bruise and cut. 

But that was all. 

You didn’t know what you expected. Maybe some part of you thought the last four years would come back, simply because waking up this time felt so eerily similar to the first. But no—there was nothing. All you had were the last few months. The hurt, the betrayal— the nights spent in Bucky’s arms, the pain that followed.

And then you noticed him.

Bucky sat slumped in the chair beside your bed, his face buried in his hands. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was messy, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy. He’d been waiting for you to wake up.

The moment he noticed you were moving, his hand shot out, hesitating just inches before it reached you. 

“You’re awake,” he murmured, relief flooding into his voice. 

You stared straight ahead. You refused to give him your attention. You didn’t want to give him your time.

“I... I’m so sorry,” he broke the silence, his voice breaking as he struggled to keep his composure. He was uncomfortable, and she was filling in the silence. “I should have told you everything.”

You stayed quiet, your eyes fixed on the wall.

“I was wrong.” The words spilled out of him in a rush. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I was terrified of losing you. But that’s no excuse. I... I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

All you heard was I this, I that. He was begging for your forgiveness, but it wasn’t something he could plead for. It was something you had to choose to give freely. On your own terms.

Slowly, familiar fury rose up in your chest, destroying any trace of empathy you had for him.

“Get out.” The words left your lips before you’d even realised you’d spoken. Your voice was barely above a whisper, yet it didn’t leave any room for debate.

Bucky’s face fell, the sadness in his eyes drowning him alive. “Please,” he tried, his voice trembling. “If you’ll just listen—”

“No.” Your voice steeled. “Out.”

You watched as he staggered to his feet, his hand slipping away from where it had been, hovering near yours. You remained still, refusing to give in to the quiet voice in your mind whispering that you still loved him— more than you had ever loved anyone before.

For a moment, it looked like he might try one last desperate plea. But then, he turned and walked toward the door.

He paused at the door frame, as if waiting for you to change your mind. But you didn’t look away. You held that cold stare until he was gone.

Sunday. 

The knock came quietly at first, as if the person on the other side wasn’t sure they wanted to disturb you. 

You didn’t answer. You had nothing left to give. No words left to say. 

The door creaked open.

Yelena moved with a hesitation you’d never seen in her before—like she wasn’t sure if she had the right to be there. 

You stayed still waiting for her to say something or leave. She did neither.

Instead, she lingered by the door, counting her breaths like she was trying to keep herself together. When she finally spoke, her voice came in the form of a whisper. “I’m not here to make excuses.”

You didn’t respond, resentment still alive in the dark corners of your mind. 

“You probably don’t want to hear this,” Yelena sighed, stepping closer, “but I’ve been sitting outside that door for hours, trying to… gather the courage to come in.”

You closed your eyes, wishing she would just go away. 

“I tried,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I wanted to tell you so many times. But I was afraid. So I projected it on Bucky. And I’m not making excuses for him either but… I think I discouraged him.”

Yelena had to learn the hard way; you can’t force the truth out of someone. Force only breeds fear, and fear makes people say whatever they think will make the pain go away, truth be damned.

She understood that now— that there was something fundamentally wrong about using force in human relationships. But in her defence, it was all she had ever known. The Red Room, the kills she was forced to carry out—they’d taught her that control came through fear. Force became the only reliable tool in her arsenal. 

She realised now, that it was the same for Bucky.

Hydra had stripped away his humanity, piece by piece. Force had shaped him, twisted him into a weapon of someone else’s will. Force has dehumanised him. 

Of course he had resisted when met with any kind of force. Of course he had pushed back.

Yelena wasn’t going to defend him—not entirely. But she couldn’t deny that what he’d done was painfully… human. His reaction had been flawed, but it came from a place of desperate survival— and she understood that better than anyone.

She had failed to see Bucky as human. In doing so, they both had failed you.

You clenched your teeth, refusing to look at her, refusing to acknowledge the sting of her words.

When you finally spoke, your voice was cold. “You were complicit.”

You heard tension in the sharp inhale she took, in the faint tremble in her breath. “I know,” she said quietly. 

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of her face in your peripheral vision. 

“I’m not expecting you to forgive me,” she said, taking another cautious step closer. “I just... I need you to know that I’m sorry.” Her voice broke, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. The sincerity in her voice was unbearable.

You exhaled, pressing your palms into the bed. “I don’t have the energy to fight you right now,” you muttered, the tiniest hint of acceptance forming on your face. You didn’t know if you could ever forgive either of them, but you were tired— tired of being bitter. Tired of feeling nothing but hatred.

A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “I’ll take it.”

She pulled a chair over. After a while, she leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “There’s something else I think you need to hear,” she said carefully. 

You didn’t respond, but you didn’t stop her either.

“It’s Bucky,” she said hesitantly. “He… he’s in pieces over you. He doesn’t sleep, he barely eats. And I know he fucked up— but…”

Your breath hitched.

“His heart is yours,” She continued softly, “It always has been. And… and I’ve just never ever seen you as happy as you were with him.”

The words hit you harder than you would ever admit. 

She only ever wanted you to be happy.

Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms.

“I know you don’t want to see him,” Yelena added quickly. “But you should just… think about him. For your own sake.”

You didn’t answer. 

You couldn’t.

Monday. 

Today, Sam stepped inside, tablet by his side. He wore his expression as a mask of restraint, not betraying the guilt he felt underneath. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away as he offered you quiet sympathy you weren’t ready to face yet.

Progress had been slow. You’d refused to see anyone but Yelena, but even when she was in the room, you barely talked to her. 

Maybe you just didn’t want to be isolated while you were healing— maybe you just needed a friend.

When Sam spoke, his voice was measured, like he was tiptoeing across a lake that had just frozen over

“I know you’re angry,” he said cautiously. “And you’ve got every right to be. But there’s… something you need to see.”

You wanted to tell him to leave, to stop pulling at threads you weren’t ready to unravel. Anger was easier— simpler. It didn’t leave room for doubt, didn’t force you to come face to face with how complicated everything had become. 

But his words lingered in your mind, demanding curiosity from you. 

So you gave an almost imperceptible nod you gave in response.

Sam crossed the room carefully, like he was approaching a wounded animal. He placed the tablet on your lap, waiting for you to take the reins.

“The first time— when you lost your memories, he sat with you for hours,” Sam said quietly. “That’s— It’s all here.”

When he stepped back, his hand retreated reluctantly. 

Without another word, Sam turned and left, his footsteps fading down the hall until the room was nothing but a bubble of suffocating silence.

You stared at the tablet on your lap.

You wanted to push it away, to leave it untouched, to keep its secrets buried forever. You didn’t want to do this—not again. Not let a piece of technology guide you through fragments of memories better left forgotten. But your hands had other plans. 

You gave in, pressing play. The screen came alive with a flicker, pixels blooming into existence from the void. 

And then, there he was.

Bucky, in the sterile, dim light of a hospital room, looked like he’d been hollowed out. His eyes were red and swollen, dark circles beneath them etched deep into his face. He was holding your hand, his thumb brushing absently across your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “You deserve so much better than this. I just… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I pushed you away because… because I was afraid. But I care about you. I care about you so much.”

The raw pain in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes, sent a tremor through your chest. You could see it, the regret laid bare, the desperation searing through him like the pain of an open wound.

Here, he wasn’t hiding. He wasn’t holding anything back. He was just a man, broken and afraid, holding onto your hand like it was a lifeline.

The footage cut briefly, and when it resumed, he was still there with the same clothes, the same tousled hair.

The time stamp showed that a day had passed. 

Here, his voice was softer, more fragile. His thumb was still tracing small circles over your hand. “I’ve been sitting here for hours, and I can’t help but think about how you light up every room you walk in,” he murmured, a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. “You always found a way to pull me out, even if I didn’t show it. Even if I didn’t deserve it.”

The words felt like a surgical knife had methodically split your heart open, removing the hatred from your body piece by piece before stitching it up again.

You couldn't quite believe— that despite being cold to you then— he had known exactly what you meant to him. 

He’d known, even when he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“I miss you so much,” he choked out, his voice collapsing. He clung to your hand as if it was the only real thing left in the world. “I can’t do this without you.”

Your throat tightened, and you felt tears burning in the back of your eyes. 

He’d spent so long hiding this, hiding everything he felt.

And it all came spilling out when you weren’t even awake to hear it.

Then he looked up, his eyes lost in a distant memory. “Do you remember the time we went on the Latveria mission together?” He let out a soft, shaky laugh. “I thought I was going to be a distraction. You laughed and said I could never be a distraction. You said I was your favourite partner. I should’ve known then that you cared about me… that I meant something to you. And I took you for granted.”

The remorse, the grief in his voice, was too much to bear. 

And then, he said it: a quiet confession of a broken man.

“I love you.”

The screen went dark, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. 

Your heart twisted.

You knew now, deep down, that he was just a man—flawed, broken, fighting his own battles. Sometimes, he failed. This time, he failed you. 

But aren’t failures what makes us all so devastatingly human?

And yes, he failed. But he was also a man who loved you. The man who sat beside you for hours, holding your hand, pouring out every piece of himself in the hope that you’d feel him.

And love is something he could never fail at.

Tears slipped down your cheeks washing away the last shreds of your anger. You couldn’t forget the hurt he’d caused, couldn’t ignore the wounds he drove in your heart, but you could try to understand why it hurt so much. 

You couldn’t deny that you loved him, too—despite everything. And for the first time since all of this began, you felt that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way through the pain.

You could be whole again.

Tuesday.

Today, you were discharged. And today, you went searching for a friend—not Yelena. Things between you and her were still fragile, and you were unsure if you had even forgiven her completely.

Instead, you found yourself back at the museum, sitting in front of Bucky’s old war uniform. The glass case reflected your bruised face, a monument to your present and his past.

Alex sat beside you, eyes furrowed with concern 

"Tell me everything," she said.

And so you did.

-To be continued…

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[j1998v]

HA! I DIDNT DREAM OF HIM LAST NIGHT!

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere! Idol! Group x F! Reader

Nurse Bee 🐝Part (2)

Part 1

TW: spankings, dubcon, force-feeding, overstimulation, mind control

After they humiliated you, your devoted idols decided to make a schedule for who gets to have you every day of the week. Sol gets you on Sunday, Haneul on Monday, Jason on Tuesday, and Honey/Hani on Wednesday. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, they all share you. Today was Monday.

"Wakey, wakey, Y/N! I made breakfast for you!" Haneul says, opening your door. "I knew those idiots didn't come back to dress you. Look at you, shivering and cold. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

Haneul puts your body into his arms and carries you into the bathtub. The warm water with lavender flowers soothes your aching body. Haneul walks out and returns with your breakfast.

"Ah, open wide! I made your favorite, buttermilk pancakes," Haneul says, holding a piece of pancake on a fork.

You refuse to entertain his antics and sink your body deeper into the tub.

"Y/N, I said ah. Open your mouth," Haneul growls, his smile about to waver.

You turn your head, and he drops the fork to the ground. He pulls your arm so your body is halfway out of the tub, and rests his hand on your wet bottom.

"Haneul, what are you doing?" You stammer, wriggling as his other arm holds you down.

"Disciplining our queen," Haneul says, spanking your ass.

His hands hit your ass several more times, each time harder than the last, and all you can do is take it. You sniffle as the pain becomes too much, and Haneul finally stops.

"Now open your mouth," Haneul commands, holding your jaw.

You do as he says and eat the pancakes.

"It wasn't that hard was it? Now you get a reward," Haneul says, pulling out a phallic-shaped vibrator. "Spread your legs like a good girl."

Your legs slowly spread, and your hands grip the bathtub. Haneul puts the vibrator into your pussy, and you twitch from the pleasure.

"Aw, those spankings warmed your pussy right up and made it wet for me," Haneul says, pushing the vibrator in and out of you slowly. "If you cum for me, I'll give you some really nice clothes."

You don't pay attention to his words as the vibrator's feeling takes over your brain. You move Haneul's hand away from the vibrator and push it all the way in. Haneul looks at you in slight shock and laughs at your reaction.

"I knew it was a good idea to put that aphrodisiac in the bath water. You can't even help yourself," Haneul whispers, pulling you onto him and groping your breasts. "Would you look at that? My clothes are wet just like you."

Haneul takes advantage of you not paying attention and strips all of his clothes. He moves you into the bath again, then joins you.

"You don't need this anymore," Haneul says, taking the vibrator out of your pussy, and moving it to your mouth where you happily accept it. "That should keep you quiet enough."

Haneul puts his cock inside your pussy and you begin to ride him before he even has a chance to thrust. He laughs at your horniness and begins to thrust. Drool goes down your mouth from sucking on the vibrator, but you couldn't care less. After sucking on the vibrator for so long, you take it out once you realize there's no point if there's no cum for you to swallow.

"Ah, baby, you're rocking my world," Haneul moans, rapidly thrusting into your pussy. "Ah, ah, keep that vibrator in."

Haneul shoves the vibrator back into your mouth, and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"That's it. Focus on the vibrator. Let it overstimulate you into submission," Haneul says, rubbing your head. "Just keep sucking."

You obey him, not noticing you've been riding his dick in tandem with his thrusting the entire time. When Haneul cums in you, pleasure rocks your body and you're seeing white. Haneul takes the vibrator out of your mouth and laughs as you keep sucking nothing but air. He moves your head to his dick and you mindlessly suck that.

"We can't let our queen's cum from breeding go to waste," Haneul says, grabbing a plug with a bee design and putting it in your pussy.

The plug shines in the water making Haneul smirk.

~~~~~~~~~

"Haneul, I can't believe she's been sucking you off like that for hours. Shouldn't she be hungry?" Sol asks, looking at you sucking off Haneul on your bed.

"I know, but she does blowjobs so well. I'll stop after I cum," Haneul responds, rubbing your head.

"Fine. Just make sure she gets rest," Sol says, walking out of your room and closing the door.

And that's how your day with Haneul went.

[adventuringblind]

Caught in a Lie

Maxiel x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: The reader gets caught in Max's shenanigans and decides to take the blame. Daniel isn't happy she lied for Max, third time WDC or not.

Warnings: BDSM, dom/sub, sub reader, switch Max, dom Daniel, spanking, unprotected PinV, Overstimulation, mild denial if you squint, Max being a menace

Notes: I have a website now! It would mean a lot if Y'all checked it out. I'm still working on it but it's a fun creative project. It's still in the works, so if you have suggestions, I will gladly take them.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really wasn't her fault. Max had been the conspirator. She was just the bait. Unknowingly, mind you. The bastard had done this on purpose!

Winning a third title had inflated his ego far too much. They couldn't celebrate properly in Qatar. Alcohol sure, sex had to wait. Not because any of them wanted to, Daniel had made it a point that sex, especially the kind they do, needs to come after races. Thursdays and Fridays can be soft things. Saturdays are an absolute no. Then Sunday comes around, and they are trying to get back to wherever they are staying as fast as possible.

Now, back at home in Monaco, nothing to disturb their peace. They decide to ruin it all by going out. It's one of her least favorite activities. Being in bed with the cat has her name on it. But Max wants to celebrate, and Daniel is social, so she drags herself out of bed.

She should've known something was amiss when Max said he got something for her to wear out. She should've known it was going to end this way when Max whistled at her and laughed, whereas Daniel's eyes had darkened. The familiar look he gets when he wants to absolutely take her apart and build her up piece by euphoric piece.

She'd caught Max's arm on the way out. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"Felt like a show tonight," he shrugs, then winks at her.

The black dress barely covers her ass. It's lacy all over and sheer aside from the important places. She wears stuff like this often since it's something she likes. It doesn't make sense why this would be the thing to drive him insane.

Dancing had been fun. Their other Monaco friends had come out with them to celebrate. Daniel's eyes had burned into her every time she moved. Much to her surprise, he wasn't the only one.

Carlos Sainz is staring at her from the corner. He looks like he's trying desperately not to but failing miserably. He turns away every time she catches him, still exuding confidence.

It's not well known that she's dating Max and Daniel. They've been friends for a long time. Friendship turned into a situationship, which then made them confess. They look like they always do to the outside world. To touchy to simply be platonic but no real announcement that any of the three are taken.

Carlos was staring, Daniel was glaring, Max was smirking, and she was the center of it all. Embarrassment hit her like a train when she realized she'd been played. Max was watching Carlos stare at her and snickering about it.

Feeling insecure, she went to get some air. The joy of feeling nice in a dress Max had picked out now ruined from knowing why he did it. He was playing a game. He could've at least asked first.

Daniel and Max find her outside slumped against the wall. She can still hear Max laughing about something and it's pissing her off.

"Stop laughing at me!" She throws her arms up in defeat and turns her back to them. "I didn't ask to be ogled at by Carlos, Max."

"Then why did you pick that specific dress?" Daniel spins her around and pins her to the wall. A shiver runs up her spine as his breath sticks to her ear. "The exact one Carlos had mentioned wanting to see on a pretty thing like you."

She doesn't know whether to blush or cower. She ends up settling for both at the same time. She debates her options. Either she tells the truth and saves herself, or she takes whatever punishment is coming her way.

Once. She will do this one time for Max since he just won his title.

"I picked it out because I thought it looked nice and you would like it. I swear I didn't know Carlos liked this dress and was going to be here tonight." She's pleading desperately with her voice. Maybe she'll get lucky.

Max has gone oddly silent. She tries not to even look at him, let Daniel figure out she's taking the blame for the Dutch.

Daniel is still staring her down. The silence hanging thick between them until he decides to break it. "Anything to add, Maxy?"

Noticing Daniel's mood, he doesn't answer. A smart move by him. Daniel just hums and grabs her wrist to lead the charge to the car.

None of them speak during the short ride home. She hates every second of it. Daniel is probably mulling over everything he wants to do to her. She feels like a child waiting for their parent to start a lecture.

Daniel waits for them to get their shoes off before turning to face them in the entryway of the apartment. "Where'd you buy the dress from?"

And he'd seen right through it. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember, or you weren't told?"

She winces when his tone goes soft. The one that makes her drop to her knees for him. Well, any tone from Daniel can have that effect on her. This one is just the one that makes her all fuzzy in the head. “I don’t remember,” she whispers.

Daniel sighs heavily. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me the truth then I guess I’ll have to spank it out of you.” She nearly falls over, but manages to catch herself. “Bedroom, clothes off and on your knees.”

She scrambles to comply. The drop is imminent at this point. She just hopes Max enjoys the show because this will not be happening again. At least, she hopes.

The clothes come off and are folded neatly in a pile. She feels cold, exposed, and bit insecure, and then yet the floaty feeling is threatening to spill over. Her knees digging into the carpet don’t help that.

Max comes into the room silently. Daniel must have said something to him because he kneels next to her. Not a rare occurrence, but is mildly unusual.

“Max.” The stern tone has Max grumbling, but he gets back up off the floor, strips, then kneels again.

Daniel beckons her over to him. Her face is flushed red with embarrassment as she stands between his still covered legs. “You have the choice to tell the truth or not. I’m not mad at you, but I’m sad you felt like you needed to lie about what happened tonight. So, I’m going to keep spanking you until you tell the truth.”

“Yes sir.” It comes out so easily; a second nature now. She lays across his lap, trying to hold back the already threatening tears.

“What are your colors, baby girl?”

“Green is good, yellow is slow down and talk, red is stop.”

“Good, what’s your color?”

“Green.”

She’s probably too far gone already to really say no at this point. She just needs his hands on her in any kind of way.

The first hit shocks her. It’s not the hardest he’s can go by any means, but it still stings. “I’m gonna keep going until I get the truth.” She remains silent and another hit lands to the other side.

The next three have no rhythm and are more towards the tops of her thighs. She whimpers a bit but doesn’t give in. This is for Max. He wanted a show, he won the title, and she’s willing to, unfortunately, provide.

Daniel tugs her hair back and forces her eyes to look at his face. Four more hits and she’s hissing. Each one is harder than the last.

She starts getting hazy around number twenty-five. She's taken more, but the fact that Daniel keeps sweetly telling her she can stop this by telling the truth makes it worse. Like every hit is sending further to the breaking point. Not the good one, mind you, the one where she cries and tells him the whole story.

"Just tell the truth, baby." He lands another five hits in rapid succession. Each one burning more than the last. The tears have started free falling and are making Daniel's leg wet and salty.

"Color baby?"

"Green," She manages to sniffle out. Voice high and cracking. Why is she getting punished again? Oh, right, for Max. It should really be him up here.

The overwhelming urge to do as Daniel says hits somewhere around hit forty. The breaking point has reared its ugly head. She starts bawling her eyes out as the last hit is the hardest she's received thus far. "Yellow!"

Daniel halts any movement. "Did that last one hit too hard?" The softness in his voice only brings more tears.

"I'm sorry!" She drops all her body weight over his legs. "Max got the dress. He said he picked it out for me. I didn't know anything about Carlos. Then, right before he left, I asked him what was going on, and he said he wanted a show. I figured he did just win his title, and I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I lied."

"Oh, baby girl." Daniel helps her up and lays back so she can plaster herself on his chest. "I knew what was going on, but I wanted you to tell the truth. I'm not mad at you, okay?" He runs soothing fingers along her spine. It only makes the tears come harder. "That must've been hard! I'm so proud of you for telling me the truth. I know you wanted to do it for Max, but sometimes Maxy needs to learn his own lesson."

Daniel slides out from underneath her and grabs something from the bedside table. "I'm gonna take care of you now, okay? You did so well. I'm not upset. I just needed to hear the truth." She doesn't hold back the tears as Daniel works on getting her cleaned up. "So good for me," He coos to help her calm down.

She's lost all sense of time. She has no idea of how long she's been over Daniel's or how long he's been cleaning her up for.

She's still splayed out on the bed facing, now facing Max and his solemn expression.

"Here's what we're going to do. Max wanted a show, so that's what he's gonna get since we are celebrating his win." He turns towards Max. The Dutch's knees can't be feeling good at all. Daniel leans down and forces his head upwards. A few seconds at the Australian, then holding on her.

Daniel drags over a chair and rips Max up from the floor. "You are going to sit here and watch. You will not move, you will not touch, you will not make a sounds. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, color?"

Max looks oddly and achingly hard from her position. It makes her wonder if this is actually what he wanted or if he's just slipping further. It takes more to put max down, but Daniel is good at getting him there if the occasion calls for it.

"Green."

Daniel, much to her relief, finally gets his clothes off. He leaves on his boxers for the moment, though the outline of his hard on is obvious. It has been since they got in the car to come home. “Baby girl, do you want my fingers or my tongue tonight?”

“Tongue please.” Pleasurable shivers run down her spine. Sometimes, she’s convinced that Daniel was molded by Greek gods and sent to live among the humans solely because his tongue can work miracles.

Her head hangs off the bed giving her an upside-down view of Max. His skin has flushed even more since the last time she saw him.

She doesn't get much time to think about it. Daniel's tongue presses against her and she loses herself. He knows her body like it's his favorite book to read, movie to watch, and song to hear.

Her fingers slip easily into his black curls. His hands are on her waist, absolutely buried in her. She's going to feel the bruises soon, but it only adds the pleasure of it.

Her free hand flies to cover her mouth out of habit. She makes it half-way before Daniel snatches her wrist and pins it to her side so he can grip both her hip and her hand.

The strings of moans and profanities leaving her are not even close to the way she can hear Max whining behind her. High pitched and desperate.

Daniel is lapping at her like she's producing healing waters and he'll die without it. Nose bumping against her just right. The grip on her body only getting strong as she writhes around in ecstasy.

"Sir please - need to - please-" It comes out strangled in panted breaths and heavy moans.

He doesn't stop. Never does to tell them yes. Daniel taps her hip with his index finger three times. She jumps over the edge without any kind of hesitation. Plunging herself in the familiar feeling of warmth overwhelming amounts of dopamine and serotonin.

Her back arches. Daniel holds her in place as her body contorts in every direction in an attempt to push him away. He is unmoving wall. A force she can't do anything but submit her body to.

Daniel leaves her alone for a mere minute. Only to drag Max over, fingers clutched around the back of his neck. He slams Max onto the bed and manhandles him until he's right where Daniel wants him.

He then moves to flip her. In between them and still sopping. "Think you can keep Max in your mouth?"

Of course she can, she's done it enough times. The consent thing still makes her melt either way. "Yes, sir."

"Good, I think we've tortured Max enough. We are still celebrating his win, after all." There is a hint of mischief behind Daniel's eyes that doesn't go unnoticed.

Daniel, mouth still wet with her, kisses Max in the sloppiest manner she's ever seen.

She stares in awe for all of ten seconds. Her ogling is cut short by Daniel gripping her hair and shoving Max's length down her throat. She gags at the suddenness but recovers quickly and gets to work.

She can't see what Daniel is doing anymore. Their positioning is not the most convenient for watching. She can hear it though, and It's driving her insane. Max's body is quivering and it's an effort to stay where she is and not bite down every time he jerks in a different direction.

It takes less time than normal for him to spill down her throat. Daniel is quick to rip her off and get her over Max. Her ass still stings from earlier, but she could care less as Daniel plays puppet master and guides Max into her.

It's a stretch, Max certainly isn't small, but she's well adjusted.

She loses her head again when Daniel sets her pace. Max is wrecked from the lack of stimulation into a constant stream of it. Daniel rips off his boxers and slams into Max's mouth. "Bet you wish you hadn't done all that snickering, huh?" Max is so far down that his eyes are rolling at Daniels tone. The gentle one that is condescending enough to make anyone whimper.

Daniel keeps talking, she's registering his voice, but has no idea what he's saying anymore. She can't even hear past her own moans. She can't feel anything besides the hands on her body and the overwhelming number of endorphins flooding her mind.

Kissing. Daniel is kissing her through another jump off an even larger cliff.

Flipped over again. This time Daniel is slamming into at an unholy pace. Maybe Daniel is a fallen angel. To good with his body to stay in heaven, so he brought heaven to the humans.

Fingers. Max's fingers are everywhere. He shoves them down her throat and coos as she mans around them. Rough calloused hands made for drowning her in whatever this cacophony of feelings is.

Her favorite song on replay. Over and over and over again. Never getting old.

She comes back to herself at some point. Nobody has clothes on still. Daniel and Max are gently coaxing her muscles to still.

"Hey baby, you passed out on us." Max's voice is still fuzzy. She groans in response. Every inch of her is in some state of pain, pleasure, or both.

"We're gonna try a bath, okay? I want to help the bruises as much as possible." She nods against Daniel's chest, agreeing that would be a brilliant idea.

"Before we do that though, I want so apologize." Max sounds timid and unsure of himself. His hands wring together in anxiety. "I shouldn't have set that up. It made you both uncomfortable and I should've just asked."

Daniel pulls Max back on top of their cuddle pile. "I would've happily made this happen and I will happily do it again."

That same mischievous glint comes back to Daniel despite the exhaustion. They end up laughing deliriously all the through their aftercare routine.

Yeah, she'd happily do this again too.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is having a hard time trying to convince himself that being with you is wrong, but he plans another date anyway. You're floating on cloud nine after Saturday night, but you're quickly brought back down to earth the next time you see him. Lucky for you, Bradley more than makes up for his indiscretion at the end of the night.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

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Bradley was completely stunned, sitting on his living room couch with his soft cock hanging out of his jeans. He heard you start your car, and he saw your tail lights shine through the window blinds as you backed out of his driveway and drove away. 

After nearly a year of being touched by nobody but himself, you got him off so good, he still couldn't move ten minutes later.

"Holy shit," he whispered to his silent living room. You had just given him the best blowjob of his life. His entire life. Bradley had been with his fair share of women, gotten more head than he could keep track of. But you were the best. Hands down, the fucking best he had ever had. 

Maybe it was because it had been so long since he'd been with someone, but he tended to believe it was just you. He was so attracted to you, he should have known you would absolutely blow his mind like that. He should have known you would show up Amanda and Grace and Talia and become the only one he was thinking about. 

Then Bradley cradled his face in both of his hands. You had caught him ready to jerk off with your sweatshirt, moaning your name. How fucking embarrassing. And then you'd agreed to do him a favor and get him off. Your words echoed through his mind, "I can help you with that. If you want."

But you were unattainable. Off limits. The babysitter. Noah was so attached to you. When Nat found out, she was going to lose her mind. And probably not in a good way. Because Bradley was a thirty six year old man with a ridiculous crush on a woman twelve years younger than him. 

He forgot to pay you before you left. Oh god, how was he supposed to pay you after you sucked his cock for him? He was starting to feel worse and worse now. 

Before he could change his mind, he grabbed his phone and messaged back the first random woman who was trying to chat with him in the app. He'd set up another date. He'd set up a million more dates if he needed to. If he didn't get you out of his mind, he'd have to find a different babysitter and break Noah's heart. And probably his own as well.

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

You were still giggly the next day. You couldn't stop thinking about Bradley. You'd given him a blowjob. He had been moaning your name! You wanted to do that again. Maybe he felt the same way about you that you did about him. Your heart was pounding. 

After several texts from Greyson, you decided to keep ignoring him. You had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on, and it didn't help that you knew how big Bradley's dick was and how he tasted. He was bigger and better than Greyson in every way. It wasn't making your day easier envisioning Bradley's eyes practically rolling into the back of his head while you sucked him off, but you indulged in the memories anyway.

The fact that you were masturbating to the thought of him cumming in your mouth when Bradley texted you on Sunday evening should have embarrassed you. But it did not. It made you feel even hotter for him. You really hoped this was him making the next move.

Any chance you're free to come over on Wednesday when you finish your classes?

You bit your lip and squealed, forcing yourself to wait more than five seconds before you texted him back. And when you did, it was with a giddy smile.

I can head over right after class, Daddy. See you on Wednesday.

He didn't end up writing back, but you knew he was busy. So you spent the week avoiding Greyson as much as you could. And when you saw Penny when you were out taking a walk, she waved you down.

"How are things working out with Bradley and Noah?" she asked you with a smile. 

Your mind returned to the velvet feel of his erection gliding over your tongue and the broken, raspy groans of his delicious orgasm.

"Oh, so far so good," you said before pressing your lips together. "Noah is the sweetest child in the world. And Bradley, well. He's actually kind of sweet too."

Penny just laughed and nodded her head. "He really is. When my bartenders found out he's dating again, they both lost their minds. I was thinking about trying to see if he was interested in going out with either of them."

Your heart suddenly felt like it was resting against your lungs, making it difficult to breathe. "Oh. Do they seem like his type?"

Penny laughed harder now. "Bradley's type is female."

Okay, that you did believe. Or rather, you believed any woman who was into guys would be into Bradley. As long as you were cool with Noah, the man was the total package. 

"He only has the most wonderful things to say about you, too," Penny added with a smile. "He said that even though you're so young, he knows he can trust you with Noah. And I don't think he would say that about very many people."

You couldn't decide if that was a compliment or a slight against your age. And when you drove to his house after your final class on Wednesday, you started to feel awkward. Neither of you had mentioned the fact that the last time you were here, you'd had his dick in your mouth. 

"Hi," you called out when you let yourself in, and Noah came running to greet you at the door. You scooped him up in a hug and started to carry him to the kitchen. "Where's your dad?"

Noah just kind of shrugged. "Getting dressed." When you set Noah down at the kitchen table, you immediately noticed a coffee cup sitting on the kitchen counter with Princess scrawled across it. 

You picked it up and took one sip of the French vanilla latte, and then you heard Bradley's voice. "Hey. Princess." You spun around with a bright smile on your face, but his expression had you immediately biting your lip and furrowing your brow. He looked confused and irritated and maybe a little sad. None of those expressions were right for his handsome face.

"Hi," you said softly, hoping you could make him smile. "What are your plans for tonight? Going to try to give me a sore throat again?"

His gaze dropped to the floor, and then you really took in what he was wearing. A nice shirt and chinos. He was going out. He hadn't invited you over to see you at all. 

"Um, actually," he muttered, but you cut him off.

"Actually, you're going on another date?" 

"Yeah." He nodded and briefly met your eyes. "Someone from the app."

He only needed to use you to get his rocks off so he could go out with someone else. God, you were so fucking stupid. He didn't want you at all. He probably thought of you as practically a child. And maybe he found you attractive enough to think filthy things about you, and allow you to suck his dick, but that was it. 

"Okay, have a great time," you said, setting the coffee cup down on the counter. You didn't want another sip. 

"Princess," he whispered, reaching out for you. But you managed to sidestep him as you sat down next to Noah and picked up a coloring book. 

"I hope she's as much fun for you as I was on Saturday night," you said, biting down hard on your lip to keep from screaming at him. 

You felt his presence behind you to the point you could almost feel the warmth of his body. But he didn't say anything, he just placed your coffee cup on the table in front of you, spinning it until the writing was facing you. 

"Thanks for the coffee. I hope you find what you're looking for tonight."

You heard him swallow hard, and then he kissed Noah's head, and then he was gone. And you were left to color some dinosaurs with the kid you wanted to spend all your time with. Too bad his dad was sending you so many mixed signals, you felt like crying. 

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

Bradley felt like an asshole the entire time he was with Gabby. She seemed really sweet, but he couldn't stop thinking about what you said to him. As if you weren't what he was looking for. 

In all actuality, you really were not what he was looking for. But you seemed to be exactly what he wanted. But wanting someone and having long term compatibility were two completely different things. 

"So...." Gabby said for the third time. Bradley could barely focus on her or his dinner. "Tell me more about yourself, Bradley."

He started rambling on about work or some shit. He wasn't even really sure. This conversation was painful compared to the way you and he were together. Or at least the way you and he were before he started to fuck everything up between the two of you. The drunk kissing was bad enough, but the blowjob was just the nail in the coffin of the flirting with you that had him absolutely smitten in the first place. 

Now Gabby was saying something about her job, and he couldn't handle it anymore. "Gabby? Sorry, but I think I'm just too distracted for this tonight."

She glared at him across the table. "Yeah, I noticed. I don't care how handsome you are if you're going to be rude. Pull your head out of your ass next time you ask someone out."

"I'm sorry," he muttered as she stood up to leave, and not a minute later, the waiter arrived with both meals. 

He looked at Bradley cautiously. "Can you pack both of those to go? Please?" Bradley asked. He was going to have to leave this guy a hefty tip, but that was fine. 

He had barely been gone for an hour and a half, and that included driving to the far end of the city. When he pulled into his driveway, he grabbed both meals, and made sure he called out from the front door. "I'm back."

You popped around the corner with Noah in your arms, and Bradley's heart leapt. "You're early," you said in surprise. "We're just about to get in bed." Bradley could tell how tired Noah looked, but he could barely take his eyes off you. 

"Do you want to sing with us, daddy?" Noah asked with a yawn, and Bradley was of course drawn to the two of you like his life depended on it. 

"Of course, bub." A minute later, Bradley was watching you tuck his son into bed while you sang a ridiculous song about dinosaurs that sounded made up. But Noah knew all the words too, and you were both laughing. 

"Night, kiddo," you whispered, brushing his hair back from his forehead. Then you slipped past Bradley without another look in his direction. When he gently reached for your hand, you yanked yourself free and kept walking.

Bradley quickly kissed Noah, and then he was following you into the kitchen where you were packing up Noah's art supplies without a word. There was an open bag of Skittles on the table next to some of your textbooks, and Bradley didn't want you packing those things up. They looked like they belonged there. 

He cleared his throat. "I brought dinner back for you. If you want it."

You laughed a little sarcastically. "I'm not eating another woman's leftovers, but thanks anyway, Bradley." You put your books into your tote bag, and Bradley took a step closer to you.

"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed for a beat. He wanted you, and at times like this, he felt like you wanted him, too. "It's not leftovers. My date bailed before the food came out."

Your stomach growled when he opened the takeout containers, and you rolled your eyes. "Fine. I'm starving." He let you pick between the two meals, and you chose the one he had ordered for himself. He didn't care, he'd eat his date's food. He could barely even remember what her name was at this point, because you were plating and microwaving the entrees like you lived here. 

"I'll just eat quickly, and then I'll be out of your hair," you told him, taking a bite of his filet mignon. Bradley settled down into the seat next to you. He wanted more than anything to talk with you, but he didn't know how. Not after what he let you do last time you were here. So he just took a few bites of food and watched you. 

"Your date bailed early? What did you do?" you asked between bites of steak. Bradley watched your eyes flash with mischief. "Does she know what you did to get those free coffees from the barista?"

Bradley chuckled and shook his head. 

"Oh my god, did you insult her after she told the waitress to hold the salad dressing?" you said, biting into your plush, glossy lip. Then your expression clouded a bit. "She didn't say something negative about Noah?"

Bradley scraped the last bite of his food onto his fork and finished eating. "No. Actually I didn't even get to mention Noah. And I have no idea if she ordered a salad. I can't even remember if I had a salad, Princess. I was so distracted all night."

"Why were you distracted?" you asked softly while Bradley took both plates to the sink. 

He reached into the refrigerator and opened a beer, drinking half of it while he decided what he wanted to say to you. You popped a red Skittle followed by two yellow ones into your mouth, and the movement of your jaw took him back to Saturday night. His cock hitting the back of your throat. His hands on your jaw and your face. Those pretty lips wrapped around his balls. 

"Princess," he groaned, and he watched you shove the last few Skittles into your mouth before jumping to your feet.

"Well, I'm going to head out," you said a bit breathlessly. "Oh, and thanks for dinner and for clarifying that these were not sloppy seconds."

Bradley set his beer on the counter and followed you out into his living room, your tote bag swaying along with your ass in your tiny shorts. "Fuck, Princess. Wait. Please?"

"What?" you asked, glancing back over your shoulder. 

Bradley reached out and ran his fingers along your cheek inhaling the scent of wildflowers. "My date bailed, because I was awful. I wasn't paying any attention to her. I can barely even remember what she looked like."

You turned to face him. "What was her name?"

He shook his head. "I can't fucking remember. All I can remember is you. Even when I'm not with you. That's why she hightailed it out of the restaurant."

You pressed your lips together, but you didn't back away when Bradley stepped into your personal space. "You've been thinking about me?" you asked in barely a whisper.

"Nonstop, Princess. And you wanna know about sloppy seconds? Anyone else ever gives me a blowjob, and I'll be thinking about you the entire time."

Your lips parted on a soft gasp. "Oh."

He nodded, stroking his thumb across your lips. "Best I ever had. I already couldn't stop thinking about you, and that just made it a hundred times worse."

"Bradley," you whispered, pressing yourself against him. He didn't move as you eased yourself up onto your toes and kissed him. You nibbled softly on his lips and sighed, then looked up at him like you felt the same way he did. 

It was so innocent, so fucking sweet. Or it would have been if Bradley wasn't wrapping both hands around your hips and licking the seam of your lips. You parted them immediately for him as your arms came up to wrap around his neck. Bradley tasted your tongue and grunted when he felt your fingers running through his hair.

He broke the kiss and let his hands slide down to palm your ass. "You taste like Skittles. I love Skittles."

You smiled up at him. "Sorry, I didn't save you any." Bradley planted his lips on the side of your neck and listened to you moan and dig your fingers in his hair. 

"I don't deserve any, remember?" he asked, rubbing his mustache below your ear. "I'm a peasant. You're the princess."

You made a soft sound that went right to Bradley's cock as you guided his lips back to yours. "Last time you kissed me, you were drunk," you whispered to him before mashing your lips against his. You were pushing him, walking him back toward the couch, and Bradley couldn't help but go where you wanted him to. 

He sat down a little hard against the cushions, his head tipped back to look up at you. "Yeah. I was kind of drunk. And that was a sin, because my memories are a little fuzzy. And you deserve to be remembered with crystal clarity, Princess."

"Do I?" you asked coyly, standing between his spread legs and clasping your hands in front of you. 

Bradley reached out with his right hand and ran his knuckles up and down your thigh. "Listen, Princess. Your lips wrapped around my cock will fuel my fantasies for years to come, but right now I want my mouth involved as much as possible."

You were instantly climbing into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing your mouth to his again. Bradley welcomed you back into his arms like you belonged there. You peppered some kisses to his lips and mustache before you pulled away from him a little bit with a smile. You were irresistible, and he was grinning right back at you. 

"Okay, go ahead," you told him, gripping his hair and tipping his head away from you. Bradley grunted as your little denim shorts rubbed against his pants creating some friction. "Try to kiss me better than you did after you were out drinking the other night. Because I thought it was pretty great, actually."

He let you tug his hair which was making him throb for you. "What do I get if I win?"

You moaned softly. "The satisfaction of a job well done?"

He shook his head. "Not good enough."

You laughed. "A pat on the back?"

"No," he said, stroking your cheek with his fingers and coaxing your lips closer to his. "I want a fifty percent share of all Skittles consumed in my house."

You gasped so theatrically, he laughed out loud. "That's scandalous. Twenty five percent, or I'm leaving," But you were inching closer and closer to him.

"Deal, Princess," he whispered against your lips, and now he found himself trying to outdo any kisses that came before you. It actually wasn't hard. You'd been his best the last time you were here. Now he wanted to be the best for you. He started off slow now, his fingers teasing along your cheeks and all over your neck. He knew his mustache was prickling along your lip, but you seemed to like it as you were grinding against him a little bit now.

Bradley made sure he was using just the right amount of pressure with his lips, always drawing you back to his kisses. The little sounds at the back of your throat were encouraging, as were your fingers which had dipped inside his shirt at the back of his neck.

He sucked gently on your bottom lip now as his hands found their way to your waist. He nibbled softly on your lip before releasing it, and he was so pleased to see he had kissed off all of your lipgloss. Now your lips just looked extra pouty, and your eyes were needy. 

"How am I doing so far?" he teased, kissing along your chin and your jaw, eventually letting his lips settle on the front of your neck. 

"You must really want those Skittles," you gasped, head tipped back as he worked his mouth against your soft skin. He sucked gently on you there, nearly thrusting against you as you rubbed yourself on him. "Oh!"

And then his hands were a little rougher, squeezing your hips and wrapping around the back of your neck. You leaned into him, clearly not afraid of what his body was demanding as he tasted your tongue and your teeth. He felt your hands on his chest and abs. He could feel your warmth against his cock as you rocked your body into his. He could feel your nipples, hard and rubbing his chest through too much fabric. 

"Princess?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours. 

"Yeah, okay," you said, gasping against his lips, kissing him between sentences. "You win. Twenty five percent of the Skittles. They are yours."

He kissed you, laughing against your lips. "That's really nice and all, baby. But I'd rather taste you right now?"

"Me?" you asked softly, putting a few inches between your mouth and his.

"I want to know if you taste sweet all over, Princess. Will you let me find out?" he asked, stroking his index finger along the zipper of your shorts. He was gauging your reaction to him as you bit your lip and tried to squeeze your thighs together. 

"You want to go down on me?" you whispered, hands gasping along his abs.  

He nodded. "Real fucking bad, Princess."

You licked your swollen lips and whimpered. "Okay, Daddy."

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

Bradley had been so sweet, his brown eyes like something from your dreams. His lips and his hands were all over you, turning you on and making you so wet. But now he wanted to taste you? Find out if you were sweet?

As soon as you called him Daddy again, he had the front of your shorts open, and you were lying on the couch on your back with his big body over yours. 

A moan escaped your lips as soon as he eased his hand inside the front of your underwear and over your clit, and then his mouth was on yours, devouring you. You were making little noises against his lips as he stroked you just the way you liked to touch yourself. It was like he knew how crazy this would make you. And when his other hand ended up inside your shirt, pulling down your bra and stroking your nipples, you groaned his name. 

"You're soaking wet," he said, rubbing his mustache along your jaw in time with his fingers as they worked their way down toward your opening. He teased you like that until you were begging him for more, your fingers tangling wildly in his hair. 

"Please, please," you gasped, and then Bradley was sitting back a bit, his hard dick on display for you through his pants. He yanked your jean shorts down your legs and tossed them to the floor, followed by your lacy, white underwear. 

"Oh, fuck me," he groaned as he looked at you, bare for him from the waist down, except for your socks and sneakers which he left on. 

Then without hesitation, Bradley stroked his hands up the backs of your thighs, spread them wide and brought his mouth down to your pussy. He placed the softest kiss against you there, his mustache making you bite down on your lip in response to the sensation. 

"Bradley," you gasped, feeling your lower back arch off the couch as he ran his tongue from your opening all the way up to your clit in one glorious swipe. 

You should have been embarrassed by the way you were reacting to him. But he just looked up at you with his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently before he released you. "You're so sensitive, Princess," he grunted. And then he was running his nose through your wetness and kissing you everywhere. "And you taste so good."

This didn't feel like you expected it to; it felt so much better than that. Bradley's lips and mustache and his fingers and tongue. Everything he did had you gasping, crying out for more. 

"I got you," he promised, spreading your legs wider every time you tried to squeeze them against his head. You were writhing against the couch now, simultaneously trying to pull yourself away from his mouth and also rub your clit against his nose for more. 

"Oh god!" you groaned, loud enough that you should be concerned about waking up Noah. But you couldn't stop! Bradley was licking up and down your slit with sure movements and then sucking on your clit until you were practically in tears. Over and over again. Then Bradley was shoving his fingers inside you and kissing your clit before circling it with his thumb.

"You're getting loud, Princess," he whispered, guiding his body over top of yours again. You wrapped your legs around his hips when he kissed you with his wet lips and face. You were licking yourself off his lips when he asked, "You like how you taste? You're so sweet."

You could only whine in agreement as he pushed your shirt up and buried his face against your lace covered breasts. He kissed his way back down your body, and soon you were grinding against his face while he held your thighs. 

"Oh, god, oh!" you gasped when he was licking and sucking again. You closed your eyes tight as your legs started to shake. And then Bradley pumped his fingers into you a little slower and sucked on your clit with a little more pressure, and you felt yourself clenching hard. You rode his fingers with your feet planted on his shoulders, and he looked up at you like he owned you. 

"Daddy!" you cried out, enjoying what was quite obviously the longest and best orgasm of your life. 

"Call me Daddy again," he demanded before sealing his pretty lips around your clit once more and sucking.

"Daddy!" you groaned, pulsing around his fingers. And then everything felt wet. Really wet. And Bradley's face turned to an expression of awe. And his face was wet, too. You sat up and looked down your body to where his fingers were still rammed inside your pussy. But the couch was wet. "What happened?" you asked, but his lips were on yours, and he was pushing you back down again. 

"Princess," he groaned, still moving his fingers gently inside you, and now you were finally coming down fully from the peak of pleasure he had brought to your body. "Christ Almighty, baby. You're the sweetest fucking thing, aren't you?" He kept praising you, his lips all over your face. And when he finally withdrew his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, you helped him lick them clean. 

And then he was gaping down at you, stroking his knuckles along your cheek. "What happened?" you asked softly. You didn't think your body would ever recover fully enough for you to speak louder than this, but you didn't care. Everything felt too good. 

"You squirted for me," he replied, those big brown eyes roaming all over your face before he kissed you. 

Oh. You still felt wet. You had made a mess on his couch. You could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to," you whispered, suddenly feeling very shy.

"Was so hot," Bradley whispered next to your ear. "Princess." His lips on the shell of your ear and his hard cock pressing against your hip made you feel a little bolder. You tried to sit up, but he was huge on top of you.

"Do you want me to get you off?" you asked, reaching down toward him. But Bradley took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. 

"No. You've done plenty. You're a Princess, made to be worshipped." You settled back against the couch cushions and let him kiss along your neck until he had his fill.

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

Bradley helped you get dressed. Then he walked you to your car. Then he kissed you goodnight. And then he paid you for watching Noah which made him feel physically sick. You tried to push the money away, but he insisted. Then he went back inside into the bathroom and came hard after stroking himself three times to the thought of your pussy soaking his face. 

He was a mess. A literal fucking mess now. He sat down on the bathroom floor. He had no idea what to do. But then he laughed out loud when he remembered how his night started. He had been on a date with some random faceless woman earlier, but his night had ended with his own face buried in your pussy. 

This was not a good idea. None of this was a good idea. He needed to figure this the fuck out. 

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

Nice work, Bradley. Amazing effort. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[starkeygirlposts]

Goosebumps in my Sleeve I

Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married. *In this story, Rafe kills Peterkin after accidentally shooting Sarah, and your mom is Rose. Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader, toxic!rafe x reader Trigger warnings: forced pregnancy, stepcest, underage, drugs, pregnancy, noncon, swearing, mentions of abortion, p in v sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, domestic violence, angst 18+ mdni water dividers by @plum98 heart dividers by @bunnysrph

SERIES MASTERLIST

You'd had a mundane life until your dads affair came to light when you were sixteen years old. He'd met a women on a business trip flight, explaining it as a "connection he didn't have with Rose”. He'd explained his infidelities away by saying your mom paid him little attention, embarrassed him in front of their friends, belittled him, and said the love between them ceased to exist solely because of your mom.

It wasn't like you knew the ins and outs of your parents' love life as a teenager, but what you saw - or what they chose to show you, didn't seem like what your dad made it out to be. But there are always 3 sides to every story, so who were you to judge?

Especially when you'd ignored all the warnings you'd been given to stay clear from Rafe Cameron, much less date him. He was a senior and you were a freshman and people already had enough to say about that.

You'd began attending parties at his house during your freshman year of high school, and the playful flirtation between the two of you continued for a year before he finally made a move that the two of you couldn't come back from.

He was on the lookout for you every Friday or Saturday night, always a prepared favorite drink of yours ready in a red solo cup. He'd follow you around his house if not with his feet, with his eyes until one day his fingertips grazed your arm and draped down to your fingers and tangled them together, showing to not only you, but everyone else around you that it was game over.

He'd taken you up to his room that same night and he ground his hips so deeply into yours that you were sure you lost your virginity that night. After telling your friends, who'd only laughed at your naivety, you realized you very much did not, and then you truly realized when the next Saturday night, he'd taken you to his room and peeled the clothing from both of your bodies and you'd connected as one. The way his fingers caressed your face, your hair, your body, it was the biggest question in your mind why anyone would think Rafe Cameron was any bit the bad boy they had all made him out to be.

Talking about how quick to temper he was, how hot headed, how impulsive, how vulgar.

You had never witnessed any of that in your three years together. Whether he'd kept you at arms length or whether all it took was you coming into his life to change him, you weren't sure.

But today, The Rafe Cameron who became your boyfriend when you were at the end of being sixteen years old was not the Rafe Cameron who people referred to your step-brother at nearly nineteen.

The complete opposite, really.

Rafe had always gone out of his way to be the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend you could have hoped for. Stealing kisses in the hallways before the bell would ring, then waiting for you in the parking lot with flowers or coffee or chocolate or a picked dandelion once he’d graduated and you hadn’t yet.

Bringing you dinner every Sunday night with your favorite pint of ice cream, and always keeping your bedside table stocked with your favorite genre books and your favorite sour candies.

Keeping his arm draped protectively over you at parties, tender kisses to your forehead when things got too rowdy, whisking you away for alone time once the crowd started to clear.

Caressing your body affectionately during sex, squeezing your hips just enough to leave gentle love marks, keeping you in his arms after making you climax more than once always, asking you if you were okay after every initial thrust, and after being too rough when he was extra needy.

Kissing you like he'd never see you again, holding your jaw in his palm and telling you how much he loved his beautiful girl.

There was no end in sight for the two of you, and after spending so much time together, your mom had asked to meet his dad. You didn't think any more of it than her wanting to know the man whose home you were spending most of your time in. Your mom had become extra clingy after the divorce, and you tried to do what you could. Asking her if she wanted to watch her favorite show together on Tuesday nights, bringing home her favorite Chinese food on your way back from Rafe's on earlier nights. Offering to have a girls day when you had off from your job. You knew the affair nearly killed your mom, but you did not expect her to begin to lean on none other than your boyfriends dad.

Ward was the perfect fill-in for your mom for a while. She was just having a good time, she'd told you. "He occupies my mind, does that make me such a bad mom?” And it was like she was accusing you being upset with your her being however which way involved with your boyfriends dad was so out-of-this-world believable. Truth was, yes it made her a bad mom. Not just because it put you and Rafe in an uncomfortable position, but because you were still struggling yourself after having your family as you knew it blown apart.

But she wasn't just "having a good time." Or rather, maybe she was having too good a time. Because on a Thursday evening at the Cameron's dinner table with Ward, Rose, Rafe, Sarah and Weezie, Ward held your her hand and announced that they were getting married.

You think your heart stopped at his words, and you threw your gaze to your side to find Rafe before doing or saying anything to anyone else. His eyes flicked to yours, and above your head, connecting with his father's in an expression you could only imagine was pure hatred. Because Rafe could never live up to his father in any sense, and now he was taking away the one thing that kept his feet planted to the ground. The girl who’d healed him. Of course he was.

That day, your world fell apart, and Rafe started to become someone you couldn't recognize. Rafe's hand had slipped from your thigh, gone the tender loving warm fingertips, drawing lazy hearts on your skin.

Your whole body jolted when Rafe's chair scraped like nails against the tile floor of the dining room as he darted outside to his truck, not giving you a second thought and leaving you to pick up the pieces. How badly you had wanted to chase after him. But when your eyes connected with Ward's, the decision was already made for you.

You didn't even need to ask.

"Unless you want to live with your father in California, you and Rafe will stop whatever it is you two have going on." Ward had told you.

The words cut through you like a knife, anger bubbling up in your gut with the most intense nausea, "Whatever we have going on? We've been dating for three years!" You practically shout.

"Y/N!" Rose shrieks, "Have some respect!" And you can see the tears shining in her eyes, a mirror of your own. Wards hand squeezes your hers tighter, patting and he whispers to her that "it's okay, Rose, it's going to take a moment to process."

You looked to Rose as if she'd help you - feel some semblance of remorse for you, an ounce of regret. Tears were streaming down your face now, your fingers gripped to your napkin on your lap like you were strangling it.

You'd met Rafe first.

Three years ago.

You were the only reason your mother even met Ward. But why should you be so surprised that what she wanted was more important than your happiness?

From that day on, Rafe started slowly slipping from you. You'd told him what Ward had told you, expecting him to scoff and tell you how he only thought he would stay away from you. But that was exactly what Rafe began to do. Once you received the news, you were moving into Tannyhill, your bedroom just across the hall from Rafe's. A bitter tease dangling in front of you. The love of your life, your best friend, your saving grace, so close but so far, sworn away from you. It had to be intentional.

Rafe started to become a hollow shell of the boy you loved so deeply and so painfully. Loving him so hard physically caused your heart to ache, watching him from a distance slip so far away from you, and out of love with you that it felt like your body was slowly shutting down. Like your brain was turning off and the rest of your organs were being deprived of the oxygen it needed to keep functioning. Like you were only just drifting through life, each morning you woke up was like living a nightmare. Your hands ached to touch his body, for him to touch your body. Your core clenched at night when you laid in bed by yourself, hovering over his contact in your phone, so tempted to press the call button. But your fear of rejection kept you from pressing it every time, instead settling on the feel of your own fingers slipping into your underwear.

You watched as he'd drink himself to sleep every weekend, seated on the living room sofa most of the night with Topper and Kelce, using his amex black card to line the cocaine before rolling up a hundred dollar bill and snorting into his left nostril, jolting his head back and pinching his nostrils as his eyes screwed closed, before opening back up and meeting yours. You were always there, always watching, always waiting, always hoping.

You'd hold his stare until your feet walked you up to him with your hand on your hip, brushing your fingers over the tops of several of his empty beer bottles before bending down to level yourself with him. And you’d ask him to stop.

“Please stop this, Rafe.” You’d quietly plead, ignoring the loud music around you and the stares from his friends at your side. But he’d chuckle darkly and scoff you off. You had grown to hate the mocking sound of his dismissals.

“You want me to stop? What, to make you feel better? What do you do that makes me feel better?" You'd touch his cheek and guide his head down to make his eyes meet yours, and you'd stare into them - hoping for a glimmer of your boyfriend to snap back and remember.

He'd shrug away from you, his shoulder harshly snapping back and his hand brushing yours off to leave you watch his bangs fall over his eyes as he'd resume the antics that were slowly killing not only himself, but you too. But this brutal coldness didn't stop him from sneaking into your room past midnight to have sex with you. Not that you wish he'd stop, because you so badly craved his touch, eager for it any way he'd offer it. Mean, rough, kind, tender; you'd take any of him just to feel connected. It started only a few weeks after the fateful night at the dinner table. Those weeks felt like years.

He'd almost always wait by your closed door for you to sit up in your bed, clicking your bedside light on, his invitation that it was okay to come to you. But some nights, he'd be so impatient to touch you, the alcohol and drugs adding to his hunger to be close to you that you’d be woken by his weight ontop of you, using his sweaty palms to peel the comforter from your body and pull your legs apart.

Being intimate with Rafe, having him inside you brought you to tears more times than you could count. Sometimes, he would acknowledge it and coo in your ear that it was okay and he had you, but every time you told him you loved him in desperation, you were met with silence in return.

You had almost gotten caught a handful of times, whether it be Sarah or Rose, knocking because they were sure they’d heard something, asking if you were okay, Rafe fumbling over himself and nearly knocking over everything in his way to shuffle himself off of you.

You had put off the conversation with Rafe about why the two of you needed to continue on like this, but you knew Rafe would never willingly disobey his father, and when you told him that Ward had threatened to ship you off to California, Rafe told you there was no way that was happening. But this was before the drugs consumed all of his extra time, before he’d started picking fights with anyone who would dare to fight back, before he’d become a ticking time bomb. Now, you weren’t sure he’d care if you fell off the planet. Gone were the times he’d tell you how much he loved you, how beautiful you were, how he didn’t care about what his dad said, that you were his girl, and he’d fight for you.

That did happen after that night at the dinner table. When Rafe finally arrived back at Tannyhill that night, he found you in the library with Ward, discussing things and when he heard the same words that Ward had told you, he didn’t dare to speak up. But when you were alone, he told you not to worry about it, that you’d be okay and it wouldn’t change anything. That you just had to be careful and wait until he could get you place together and not need his dad financially. But that didn’t exactly happen the way you two had planned. With the hunt for the cross at the forefront of absolutely everything, everyone was on edge, constantly battling with one another, making decisions that you couldn’t come back from.

It came to a head when Rafe had accidentally shot Sarah, and he slithered through the front door of the estate covered in blood and mud and you peeked downstairs, rushing to his side to search for where the blood was coming from, worry seeping out of your pores as you continuously called his name until he grabbed your arms too tight for comfort and told you to stop. You rubbed your arms with wide eyes as he shoved you off to the side, before climbing the steps to his bathroom to clean up. Your eyes followed him all the way up, tears springing forward, before the noise behind you bringing you back and meeting eyes with your step father who would fill you in on it all. He’d told you how Rafe was not himself, how he was explosive and you needed to stay away from him. How he’d shot his sister, and that he didn’t care that he did. Your feet fumbled backwards and your head absentmindedly shook “no”, as the tears spilled over, splashing onto your chest as you broke down in Ward’s arms.

It was then that you realized the boy you loved was gone, and not even his father could bring him back.

You’d seen the relationship between Rafe and Ward deteriorate, boiling over after Peterkin was killed. It was something you knew but couldn’t bring yourself to think about. There was only one reason Ward didn’t trust Rafe to do things on his own after she was killed. Only one real reason things were never the same after that day. You knew Rafe had access to guns and you knew Peterkin stood to arrest his father. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. But would you ever ask about it? Never. Because that wasn’t the Rafe you loved. He couldn’t have done that. So he simply didn’t, and that’s what you told yourself.

You remember back to that night in particular, 2 months ago, after he’d cleaned himself up and Ward asked you to bring his dinner up to his room. In hindsight, was Ward taunting you? But any reason was better than none to be able to see him and talk to him. Bracing yourself at the top of the stairs before cautiously hammering your fist onto his bedroom door, not even getting the second rap in before it swung open, the wind blowing back your hair and his face only inches from yours, his pupils were blown black and his hands were on your arms dragging you into the room with him. “Put it down”, he’d told you tensely and you placed the tray with his dinner onto the ottoman in the corner of the room, before his hand turned your body back around to him, crashing his lips to yours aggressively while traveling his hands down to grab your hips, squeezing feverishly.

You groaned in discomfort, his fingers bruising your skin. “Rafe, you’re hurting me.” You’d tried to say, pulling your body backward, his hands coming up to hold your lower back to drag you back.

“Shut up.” He spun you both around before moving his hands to your shoulders to shove you down onto his bed with a bounce, running his hands up your calves and thighs, dragging your dress with them, all the way up until your breasts were exposed and his hands roughly squeezed them, earning a mumbled cry of pain.

You forced yourself up onto your elbows, legs scrambling to find footing on the mattress to kick away from him, screeching “Rafe, stop!” Your hands moving to grip his wrists as you tried to pry them off of you before his hand came up and slapped you across your face.

Your head snapped to the side, shock and mortified, your mouth hung open and tears sprung to your eyes as you brought your hand up to soothe the ache on your cheek. Without thinking or being fully aware of what you’re about to do, your head snaps back to him, betrayed and your hand flies up to hit him back. His hands catch both of your wrists and force them up by the sides of your head, before bringing his face menacingly down to yours.

His breath is hot against your face, your nostrils flared in anger and hurt, watching him with disgust at hitting you. Your chest juts out to deny him and he presses harder down onto you, a sickening sneer on his face as he says,

“I fucking want you, can’t you see that? I need you right now, y/n."

You can’t believe what you’re hearing after months of trying to get him to see you, to talk to him, to bring him back. Your voice drips with distain as you teeth through your teeth,

“Fuck you, Rafe! Fuck you! I’ve been here this entire time! Where the fuck were you?!” You’re yelling louder than you mean to, his chest rising hard against your own that’s exposed to him, wild eyes boring into yours, rageful tears brimming his eyes, flicking to your lips and back to your eyes, sucking in a breath before crushing his lips to yours and letting go of your wrists and using one hand to drag down to your panties and pull the gusset to the side and shove two fingers inside you.

“Fuck! Jesus Christ, Rafe!” Your head rises off the mattress to meet him now that he’s hanging above you, before wrapping your hands around his neck and dragging him back down to you and panting into his mouth. Breath hot, you tell him you need him too.

His fingers move in and out of you, curling to touch the spongey spot inside of you over and over, your voice mewling “please’s” and “oh my god, yes” until you feel his fingers leave you, hands shuffling with his pants, and your eyes snap open to look up at him, feet coming up to hook into the sides of his pants, helping him drag them down his legs. You’re watching him as he looks down to focus on getting his bottoms off, both of your hands coming to rest on his cheeks to drag his head up to look back at you.

His mouth opens to suck in a breath, finally free of his boxers and pants, meeting your eyes. “Please get inside me” You beg, your voice a strained sigh of relief mixed with desperation and you relent as he palms his cock, sweeping it through your folds before he slips inside in one deep thrust. Stilling inside you, your entire body rises off the bed, chest meeting with his, nipples hard against his torso as he hovers above you on his elbows as he bottoms out the deepest, most beautiful guttural moan slips from his lips. Surely the entire house can hear you, but after what’s gone on tonight that you have no idea about, you’re not sure anyone actually cares.

His breath is hot against your face, lips hovering over yours as he watches you with possessiveness, the way your brows furrow as his cock stretches you, his hips pulling back only to push back twice as slowly, the glide of his cock in your slick heat pulling the deepest moan from your throat, and you moan the prettiest “oh” the thinks he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his biceps that are hooked under your knees, his palms by your head, thighs spread back nearly to your chest. You break your eyes away from his to drag them down to look down where he’s inside you to watch him drag himself out achingly slow before he tells you to “look at me” and you do, your eyes meeting his and he tells you that “You look at me when I’m fucking you.” Your pussy is throbbing and your hands are clutching, your mouth is moaning and your heart is dying.

You’ve continued this sick relationship with Rafe for a year, growing into adults together in the most backward way. Sneaking around, falling out of love, but staying so desperately in love with who he used to be, begging him to get clean, trying to understand him, keep him from killing himself, trying to mend the relationship between him and his father; or rather, trying to salvage what was left of it.

You couldn’t imagine stopping, though. You couldn’t give him up - not really, not the way you were supposed to. You would have been an embarrassment to the Cameron name if you had continued dating your now step-brother. Even though people were aware of your relationship prior to Rose and Ward getting together. Marriage precedes dating, and so they won the battle. You think that this was Rafe’s way of fighting for you. Or rather, fighting his dad for you. Because he’d taken you away from him, so instead of being an embarrassment to his father by dating his step-sister, he’d become the drug addict family fuck up instead. You knew the truth though. Rafe had never experienced love until you. And then his father took that away, just like he took everything else away from him.

“You know I love you, Rafe. I will always love you.” You tell him, dragging the words out longer than you intend to, your breath short and sad.

You’re not surprised when he doesn’t say anything back to you, but his hand catches your jaw and he tilts your face up to his, lips in a sneer. His eyes grow dark and he looks at you with distain. Hi lip curls as he tells you, “You will always be mine. You can try to act like you aren’t, but you are. I fucking own you. I will always own you.” He watches for you to rebel, sighing in content before leaning down to press his lips gingerly to yours. His eyes stay open and on yours as he pointedly thrusts his cock inside you slowly, as if drilling the words into you. You keep your eyes trained on his as you say,

“I know you love me, too. Say it, tell me you love me. Be a man and fucking say it."

He’s silent above you, hand wrapping around your throat as he curls his body into you, hips jutting forward in search of release, gaining control as you feel him cum inside you before he manages to say anything, the beginning of regret filling your blood stream and you close your eyes tightly at the bitter defeat. You allowed him into your body and your heart without him having earned any of what you’d just confessed. You know he knows you still love him, and you know he still loves you. But he’s tried his hardest to prove to you that he doesn’t.

You're trembling, over sensitive when his fingers lazily find your cunt and push back inside, watching you with intent as he collects and pushes his cum back inside you. He’s watching you almost like he’s studying you, his head tilting when your head tilts in a mix of desire and discomfort, his fingers buried knuckle deep. You gush around him and he kisses you, lips hovering tauntingly over yours. He pulls back to kiss your cheeks and tells you,

“Of course I love you, my beautiful girl. How could I not love you? Miss you so bad it fucking hurts. Never stopped loving you.”

That night tipped the see-saw of back and forth between the two of you, caution to the wind, Rafe would come to you more nights than not, and he’d fuck you on your bed before telling you how much he loved you and slipping out before the sun rose.

What you didn’t know, though was that before the tip of the bow, Rafe had slipped into your bedroom and taken photos of the birth control pills in your beside drawer, showing them to Barry the next day and telling him to get him placebos. It was 3 days later that he’d popped out the number of pills you’d taken on your current pack, as well as that current pack before placing the new one perfectly in place in your drawer before closing it as if nothing had happened.

“Gonna get clean for you.” He told you one night, and you nodded under his palm as he held you close, begging him. “Please, Rafe. I can’t be in this by myself."

So when you'd texted Rafe to meet you in your room after dinner 2 months after that night, he locked the door behind him and the black in his eyes told you he couldn’t keep his promise. You kept hold of his gaze until his knees hit the bed, your small hand coming up to his chest before he could press his own to your sturnum before pushing you down, your other hand clutching the stick in your palm. You look up at him and when you lock eyes, he understands, because he takes your hand from his chest and squeezes it in his own before leaning down to touch his lips to yours.

"I miss you, baby. My beautiful girl.” He says, using his free hand to twist your head to the side, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down from your cheek to your jaw, down your neck and just above your chest.

You want to yell at him, swat his hands away as they come up to cradle your face, but you’re too overwhelmed, too hormonal, too busy in your mind to do anything but melt into his warm touch, safe and protected.

His lips trail back up and his breath fans hot against your mouth, his scent so familiar and home to you. You can't stop the tears from falling, your hand loosening from his hand to hold onto his forearm that connected to the fingers clutching your cheek tenderly but firmly in place, kissing you like he really does love you again.

How badly you missed him, too.

"Rafe, please…” You try, your hand falling and one of his breaks from your cheek, taking this moment to capture his hand with your fingers and place the stick into his palm. His eyes flick away from yours to look down at what you've given him, and you watch with fear as his brows furrow, his feet shuffling to back up and you brace yourself.

He doesn't react how you expect him to. He stares so deeply down into his palm that when his eyes do reconnect with yours, confusion in his own eyes, his head tilting just the slightest and you're trembling, waiting for the shoe to drop. He sniffs, rubbing his nose, clearing any remains of his relapse out of your sight. His mouth opens before closing, brow furrowing as he snorts, a half chuckle, his hand coming up into his hair to rake his bangs back, scratching the back of his neck.

“This what I think it is?" His eyes screw up shut and he shakes his head like he's imagining things and he's crazy. “You’re pregnant?" He finally asks, looking up at you again and you can only nod.

“Mine?" He asks again, catching you off guard, brows shooting up and you scoff, because really? Was he kidding? Who else was sneaking into your room after midnight, invading your body and your heart?

"Yes, Rafe, I'm pregnant and it’s yours.” You tell him bitterly before standing and he's still shaking his head, wincing as if he's being told the craziest thing in the world - because really, he is. But you've sat with this for the entire day and while your reaction wasn't as confused, you too felt the familiar disbelief.

You watch him take breaths through his nose, deep breaths in and out before you're in a whirlwind and he closes the distance between you and pulls you to him, tucking your head underneath his chin, the back of your skull rested protectively in his large palm. His lips are at your forehead when he tells you

"I'm going to take care of it."

You raise your head from his hand and your eyes lock on his to question him. “What does that mean? Take care of it?” You’re suddenly timid, your hand instinctively coming to rest on your lower abdomen.

“They’re not keeping me from my kid. Fuck that.” He tells you, watching your eyes soften and thank god. Not that you would have been surprised if Rafe suggested you take care of it. Now that you have a moment to collect yourself, you realize it’s actually what you expected from him. Maybe not from the sweet boy who held your hand on the beach when you were sixteen, but from the man who stood before you now.

“You want this?” he suddenly asks you, and you look up at him after realizing your eyes are locked on his chest, and you tell him honestly. “Does it matter? S’already happened.” You whisper, eyes pleading wide and scared, suddenly full of fear and you try pulling away from him, but his arms lock around you and keep you steady to him as you huff with exhaustion. “Rafe, please let me go, I…"

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you, it’s okay, baby I promise it’s going to be okay.” He tells you and you believe him, high or not, you cling to him, fingers tugging at his shirt, your tears soaking the fabric, not caring how you look or how you sound, because what the fuck are you going to do now?

“Baby please don’t cry. I’m going to make this okay. I swear, I’m going to make this okay.” You look up and into the eyes of your whole world. The boy turned man that you so deeply love. Your boyfriend turned step brother. The one whose hands are bloodied from trying to protect his father who ripped everything away from him every chance he could. How are you supposed to believe him? Were you going to run away with a murderer who you’ll knowingly harbor for the rest of your life? What you don’t truly know will kill you - you know that. You know you’d pick up and leave this place if it meant being with Rafe. You’d told him that the night he came back after the wedding bomb. But he couldn’t tell you the same, and so he’s ridden the train down this path of self destruction, danger, evil, and crime just to protect the one person who has caused him so much pain. And not only him, but you too.

You realize now that you could handle being hurt by Rafe, and even by Ward. But now you painfully realize that what you couldn’t handle the idea of your own innocent child that was half you and half the wounded and hurting boy who just wanted to be loved by the only parent he had left being hurt. So only one question swirled in your mind.

Would he let his father cause your child pain, too?

NEXT PART

Please let me know what you think, and if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

[ohlawdthebirds]

Ace In The Hole

Platonic!141 x Gn! and Asexual!Reader

Huge thank you to @groguspicklejar for letting me turn her drabble into a full fic. You can find the drabble here.

TW: Nothing huge, slight NSFW because sex is mentioned in this fic.

Synopsis: Price is fed up with how much Soap and Gaz sleep around. He's at his wits end until you come up with a solution.

And credit to @cafekitsune for these gorgeous dividers.

FREE PALESTINE FOREVER!!!!

Captain John Price was a lot of things: a respected member of the armed forces, a diligent leader, and an overall powerhouse of a man. He’d survived weeks of bootcamp, hailstorms of bullets, and targets on his life at every given turn. That all being said, he found himself wondering where he went wrong in life. When did he, captain of an elite task force, become mediator for his subordinates’ squabbles?

Soap and Gaz sat in front of him, petulant as toddlers, arguing over their latest paramour. The two of them shared a barracks room and were arguing over a “sleepover schedule” so that all of their “needs” were being met. From what Price had gathered, they currently had no set schedule, leaving them walking in on each other while with their barrack bunny of the week.

Not for the first time, John Price considered an early retirement.

“Ye cannae take the whole week, ye bampot!” Soap was indignant over Gaz’s proposed schedule, one that would give him Monday through Thursday, leaving Soap with Friday and Saturday. Sundays were off limits. Even God rested.

“Ah’m no lettin’ ye keep the lass to yerself. Isnae fair now innit?” He cried.

“Fair? You want the bird all to yourself, then? As I recall, you were balls deep in her most of last week. Nearly had to pry you out of her, you arse!” Gaz tossed back.

It was no secret that the two of them were sluts. Whores, even. John “Soap” MacTavish and Kyle “Gaz” Garrick had a penchant for sleeping around. They’d bedded no less than half their battalion, bedded a fair number of civilians during their leaves, and even bedded each other on a few occasions. Price would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed. But with these conquests came the inevitable: arguing over shared partners and said partners sometimes fighting over who got to sleep with whom. It was ridiculous, really.

They continued on until Price decided he was actively losing brain cells. He slammed his hands on the desk and stood from his chair. Two of his best and brightest froze in their seats, eyes wide as they stared at him.

“Right then, is there any particular reason you lot felt the need to have this discussion in my office? Clearly you two don’t have enough to keep you busy. Seems I’ll have to change that.”

Soap and Gaz loudly protested, voices overlapping each other’s. Price was gearing up to distribute both a mountain of paperwork and multiple laps around the building when a knock came from his office door. He fixed Soap and Gaz with a piercing stare that silenced them, before calling out for whomever knocked to come in. You stepped in, brows furrowed over the yelling you heard earlier.

“Everything okay in here, sir?”

Price nodded gruffly. “These two were done anyways. Boys, you’re dismissed.”

Once Price declared something there was no pushing back on it. The man was immovable once he made up his mind.

The two sergeants decided it was best to cut their losses then and there and continue their argument back in the barracks. They greeted you on their way out, Gaz gently clapping you on the shoulder and Soap bumping fists with you. Price sat back behind his desk and retrieved a cigar from a drawer.

“I thought you were on leave today?” the captain said.

 “Still am,” you replied, “Just wanted to make sure nothing came up before I left out.”

Price shook his head. “You’re all good, kid. See you Monday.”

You grinned and nodded. You were about to move towards the door but paused, turning to face Price. “Captain, I know it’s none of my business, truly, but I overheard what Soap and Gaz were arguing about before I came in. I think I could potentially help you out here.”

Price’s brow furrowed. You continued, “You know how competitive those two get, right? Why not use that against them? Make a bet to see who can go the longest without sleeping with anyone.”

Price ran a hand over his moustache as he considered. It wasn’t a bad plan. It was certainly one that had potential.

“Could work, certainly. But you know they won’t just accept a bet without a good prize, right?”

A smirk crossed your lips. “Of course, Cap, that’s where this gets interesting.” You leaned forward, eyebrows raised. Price indulged you, leaning forward himself.

“I enter this little competition. A third person will ensure they won’t try cheating, since they’ll have to keep themselves accountable. The winner not only gets to decide on whatever weird schedule thing they’ve got going on, provided all partners consent of course, but they also get dibs on the good seat in the chopper on our next mission.”

Price sat back in his chair, mulling it over. “Knew there was a reason we recruited you. Ace, you might have just saved me a weekend’s worth of headaches. I’ll inform those two gits.”

You grinned. This would certainly be interesting, especially since no one knew you had quite the “ace” up your sleeve.

-

It wasn’t a secret that you were asexual, it just wasn’t something that came up often. You never officially came out to the 141, deeming it unnecessary. When asked whether you were dating, you’d brush off the questions by answering that you weren’t all that interested. When prompted further if anyone on base had caught your eye, you’d respond that you were too busy. These things were true in a sense; being a sniper for the 141 certainly kept you busy and even during your downtime you found yourself preoccupied with whatever hobby you’d decided to indulge in that week or hanging out with your teammates. You lived a full life and considered dating relatively low on your list of priorities. There was also something deeply hilarious about your callsign being “Ace”, though it was referencing just how skillful you were with a sniper rifle. Entering this contest wasn’t anything difficult for you. In fact, you thought it would be interesting to see how your teammates would rise to the challenge.

-

The first week after Price announced the challenge was probably the funniest week of your life. Soap and Gaz were indignant, which you expected, but they accepted the challenge, nonetheless. When Price revealed that you were also in the running, they made it a point to corner you at the shooting range. You were reloading your gun when they walked in. Soap was the first to approach you, striding forward with his arms crossed.

“So, Price told us yer the one who proposed this whole contest, aye? Fir wye?” he asked.

You placed the gun down and turned to fully face your teammates. “’Why?’” you repeated back, “Because the two of you were causing chaos on base and Price was ready to assign you cleaning duty for the rest of your careers. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

“Well, we’re letting you know that we’ve accepted the challenge. That heli seat is mine,” Gaz said. After his incident from last year, Gaz made it a point to sit as far away from the helicopter door as possible.

“That’s fine by me,” You turned and picked the gun back up, “Though, I’m sure this’ll be easy.”

Gaz cocked an eyebrow at you. “And what makes you say that?”

“Oh, nothing in particular. Just excited to see how this’ll go.” You cocked the gun and aimed it, firing off a round into the center of the target paper.

-

After finishing at the gun range, you headed towards the canteen to grab lunch. It wasn’t until you’d grabbed your food and began to look for your teammates that you heard laughter bubbling up around the canteen. You ignored it, moving towards the back table where Ghost currently occupied a seat. Ghost didn’t acknowledge you when you sat down, his eyes trained just past your shoulder. Your brows furrowed and you quickly followed his line of sight, turning back towards the door. The moment your eyes locked onto Soap and Gaz you nearly fell out of your chair in shock.

They were dressed as nuns, and from what you could tell, they were wearing legitimate nun habits instead of cheap costumes from Halloweens past. They strode forward, faces solemn and hands folded in prayer. Soap fiddled with a rosary his mother had given him on his first deployment. They approached your table, made the sign of the cross, and sat down. Ghost shot incredulous looks at the both of them.

“What’s all this, then? Halloween come early?” He asked.

“We’ve taken a vow of chastity, Lt. The ol’ Johnny and Kyle are no more. We’ve devoted ourselves to prayer and abstinence. We’re men o’ the cloth now,” Soap replied.

“Shoulda’ taken a vow of silence,” Ghost tossed out, digging his fork into whatever mystery meat the canteen had slapped on his tray.

You and Kyle didn’t bother holding back your chuckles.

“You do realize the nun habits are unnecessary, right? Price never said you had to wear them.” You said.

“Yes, but this shows that we’re serious about this challenge,” Kyle piped up.

You fixed him with a deadpan stare. “There’s absolutely nothing serious about your current get-up. But okay.”

The rest of lunch passed without much else happening, save for the occasional snort of laughter from other personnel.

-

The second week was just as nonsensical as the first. You knew the terrible two were up to no good when jangling and clanking noises came from them as they walked into Price’s office. The men sat, albeit quite stiffly, and tried their hardest to ignore Price’s hard glare.

“What’s all that ruckus?” Price growled out.

Soap had the nerve to look as though his captain were speaking in riddles. “Ah’ dunno what yer on about Cap, we’ve done nothin’ wrong. Right Gaz?”

Gaz at least had the decency to look embarrassed. You placed down the file you were examining. “What’s all that clanking you two have got going on?”

Soap wasted no time in standing up and yanking down his pants. You were met with the sight of a leather and metal thong with a padlock over the crotch. A chastity belt. The man was wearing an honest-to-God chastity belt.

The room was stunned into silence. Gaz hung his head in shame. It only took you a moment to realize he was wearing the same contraption. Ghost was the first to break the silence.

“Those come with keys?”

“Why Lt? You lookin’ to unlock me?” Soap smirked at Ghost, still a flirt despite the clear restrictions on him.

“I’m lookin’ to throw those keys out the window,” Ghost replied dryly. You caught Price trying to stifle his laughter behind his fist.

“Do those hurt?” you asked.

“Nah, but they do pinch a bit. Mostly awkward to walk around in,” Gaz said.

Price stood from his desk and passed over more files. “If you’re all well and done, Laswell’s got a few updates from last week. Give these a read.”

You had to admit, there was something comical about reading over confidential information while knowing two men in the room had actual chastity belts on. Price soon dismissed you all back to whatever tasks you had on base. You headed to the gym with Ghost right alongside you. Soap and Gaz clanked out the door and down the hall.

“How long d’you think they’ll keep this up?” You asked once you were in the gym, scooting yourself underneath the bench press. Ghost shrugged, adding more weights to the bar.

“Depends on how just how committed they are to this whole thing. Though I’m sure they’ll break soon,” he answered.

“What makes you say that?” Your hands reached up to the bar, readying yourself to lift the weights.

“Just a feeling. Adjust your grip, you’ll kill yourself otherwise.”

“No, seriously, what makes you say that?” You gripped the bar, raising up and lowering it to your chest before raising it back up again.

“On the field, those are some of the smartest men I know. On base? Barkin’ mad, the both of ‘em. Surprised they even lasted this long.”

You racked the weights above your head once your set was finished. “You’re probably right. But you have to admit, this has been a pretty entertaining two weeks.” You looked up at Ghost, who seemed to be deep in thought.

“Why’d you join this contest anyways?” He asked.

You sat up and turned to him. “Because I knew it’d be an easy win. I don’t exactly…ah, well, I figured it’d be fun to see how things played out.”

Ghost grunted in reply. “Fair enough. Now give me twenty more reps.”

You groaned as you made your way back under the bar.

-

As it turned out, Ghost was right. The third week was when things reached their breaking point. You were on the hunt for a missing knife, one you’d lent Gaz a few days back. Ghost’s words replayed in your mind; were the sergeants reaching their breaking point? Would they soon throw in the towel?

You approached Soap and Gaz’s barrack, fist raised to knock, when you heard a noise that froze your fist mid-air. There was the sound of rustling and grunting. You jumped back from the door.

There was no way…unless?

You stepped forward again, rapping your knuckles against the wood. All sounds behind the door stopped. You were about to knock again when the door swung open.

You came face to face with Gaz, his eyes blown wide and his chest heaving.

“Gaz? You alright? Why are you so flushed?”

Your eyes caught sight of a bruise on the column of his throat. In fact, there were multiple bruises. Before he could raise his shirt to cover them, you yanked down the collar.

“Hold it, what’s this? What’s this, Gazzy-boy?! You get attacked by over-enthusiastic mosquitoes?!”

Gaz swatted your hands away. “N-no, this is just-! I burned myself earlier!”

Ignoring his protests you shouldered past him into the room, where you were met with the sight of Soap trying to pull on clothes as fast as humanly possible. You paused in the middle of the room and inhaled deeply. The air stunk of sweat and lust. Soap, having wrangled himself into pants, tried to approach you.

“Listen Ace, this isnae wit ye think it is. We were just havin’ a chat, Gaz’n ah. ”

You turned to him with a grin stretching from cheek to cheek. “Oh really? Because I think you two were having more than just a chat. And I think I just won the bet. And this-” You whipped out your phone and snapped a picture of the two of them, clothes disheveled, and skin marked with hickeys, “Is enough to prove it!”

With that you turned on your heel and booked it out the door, flying down the corridor and across the building towards Price’s office. Gaz and Soap ran after you, yelling for you to stop. The door to Price’s office nearly flew off the hinges when you barged in, phone held out in front of you. Price leveled you with a glower.

“This better be good, sergeant, otherwise you’re runnin’ laps for the next hour.”

“Oh, this is better than good, Captain, this is great.” You upped your phone’s brightness and slapped it on his desk. Price leaned over, squinting at the screen. It took only a moment for him to register what he was staring at before his eyes widened. Soap and Gaz barreled into the room, out of breath and speaking over each other.

“Cap, isnae wot ye think-!”

“Ace is framing us! We weren’t-!”

Price's face darkened. He stood from his desk, your phone in his hand.

“You fools couldn’t last 3 weeks?”

The room went dead silent, and you swore the temperature dropped a little. For a moment you wondered if you made a fatal mistake.

Price stalked forward, nearly towering over the three of you.

“Ace, you’ve won the bet. But I’ve just realized that we only discussed the reward and not the punishment for this. Any ideas?” He turned to you and handed your phone over.

Gaz and Soap shot you pleading looks, silently begging for you to be merciful. And for a moment you wondered if you should make them suffer, make them writhe. But in a moment of mercy, you decided against it.

“You know, I’m impressed that these two were able to find those nun habits and chastity belts. And such high quality too! You think they can find maid costumes?”

Price’s face lit up with the sick delight. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll manage. And I’m sure they’ll wear ‘em for the next three weeks too.”

Soap and Gaz’s faces were masks of pure shock. It was at that moment that Ghost walked into the office, a cup of tea in one hand and a file in the other. He stared at the scene in front of him, turned, and walked back out.

-

You were wrong. The weeks during the bet weren’t the funniest of your life. It was truly the weeks after that took the cake.

As per your request, Gaz and Soap procured maid outfits, complete with fishnet stockings and kitten heels. They were met with raucous laughter everywhere they went. The only one with a modicum of shame was Gaz, and even then, you caught him strutting his stuff when he passed you in the halls. Soap was happy to be back to normal. He even claimed that the costume was a hit with his partners that liked role-playing.

You saddled up next to Ghost in the rec room one night, thanking him when he brought down your favorite tea from the shelf. The two of you prepared your drinks in companionable quiet. Ghost turned to you, spoon halting in his cup.

“I would say congrats on winnin’ that bet, but I figured you would.”

You huffed out a gentle laugh. “Thanks, Lt.”

Ghost paused for a moment, seeming almost sheepish.

“You, uh…you never finished what you were saying, back when we were in the gym. Said you ‘didn’t exactly' and then you trailed off.”

“Oh, I can’t believe you remembered that. Yeah, I just…um…basically I don’t experience dating and relationships the same way everyone else does.”

“What d’you mean by that?”

You stopped stirring your tea. A part of you wondered if Ghost would understand, if he’d be supportive. You knew the man well enough that he wouldn’t ridicule you, but not everyone was understanding. It often felt like being asexual was a fringe thing. You sucked in a deep breath. Regardless of anyone’s feelings, you were asexual. It was real and anyone who said otherwise could get a mouthful of your boots.

“I’m asexual. Don’t really experience sexual attraction, y’know? Like, when you see someone others deem “hot” or “attractive” or whatever and want to have sex with them? I don’t understand that, and that desire doesn’t really happen to me. It doesn’t mean I don’t have a libido, its just never directed towards any one particular person. It’s a whole spectrum.”

You ended your ramble with a sip of tea.

“Oh, so that’s what it’s called? Didn’t realize there was a name for it,” Ghost muttered. You stiffened, cup halted in midair.

“When’d you figure that out?” Ghost asked.

“Kinda knew I was different when I began faking crushes on people back in school. And anytime those “crushes” reciprocated, I was weirded out by it. I did have real crushes, but those came a bit later. I’ve dated before, and thankfully my partners were understanding. I even had sex once! Just to try it out. It was…y’know, it was fine but I’m still definitely asexual.” You trailed off with a nervous laugh. “Sorry for the ramble, but whenever people ask, I try to explain everything, so I don’t have to keep answering questions.”

“I appreciate the honesty,” Ghost said. He cleared his throat. He seemed stuck between wanting to ask more and wondering if he was asking too much. In the end, you looked over and said: “I have a few books on it if you ever want to read up more on the subject. They helped me out a lot.”

Ghost said nothing, only nodding. He gently clinked your cup with his before he turned and headed towards the door. He stopped at the door frame and looked back over his shoulder.

“Hey Ace?”

You sipped more of your tea.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

You smiled.

“Anytime, Ghost.”

[starletdawn]

friends with benefits

You and Patrick are friends with benefits but what happens when he starts wanting you as his own.

You and Patrick have been friends for quite a few years now and there’s no doubt you two felt attraction to each other. For a long time you two only categorizes this feeling as just lust. Both of you guys had agreed to hookup without being in a committed relationship. Most recently Patrick started seeing you differently. You were only available to meet up with him on Saturday nights. Patrick being the horny man he is would hooks up with different women throughout the entire week. Yet for the last couple of weeks he has only been seeing you. He feels as if he’s being disloyal to you he has never felt like that for someone before. It was like any Sunday morning waking up on Patrick’s bed. You stare at him as he’s still asleep. His a toned body,the way his messy hair fell on his face, his sharp jawline (A: he mews at least 2 hours per day). You were mesmerized by his beauty you wanted him all to yourself. He slowly starts opening his eyes and turns to you. “Good morning” he says yawning softly staring into your eyes. “Good morning” you say back This was usually your cue that you had to leave already. You slowly get up from bed when his hand wraps around your waist.

“You wouldn’t mind staying longer here?” He suggests “I can’t do anymore rounds, my body is exhausted Patrick” you respond. He was very rough in bed your legs were still sore from last night.

“No, not like that” he chuckles “I simply want your company” “Sure” you say still shocked of Patrick’s new behavior. He pulls you back into his bed softly his hand still on your waist. He slowly moves you closer until you were both cuddling each other.You couldn’t be happier to be in Patrick’s arms. He didn’t really do aftercare so it came to a surprise when he was checking up on you.

“You said your body was exhausted, did I go on for to long last night?” He questions.

“Well yes but honestly It was very pleasurable and I loved every moment of it.”`You chuckle “Great that’s all I want” he says he gently tilts your chin to make you look at him “I don’t ever want to hurt you okay?” You could hear the genuine care in his voice. you couldn’t believe Patrick Bateman out of all people was showing concern for you. He slowly opens his drawer taking out a small white box. “I got you a gift”He grins “Really?” You question thinking you must misheard something. He nods you can’t help but smile. “Close your eyes.” He whispers into your ear with a husky voice his hot breath on your neck. “Also sit up for darling.” You do so you feel his hands on your neck After a few minutes you hear him say “Now open them.” You open your eyes seeing a precious Vivienne Westwood white pearl necklace hanging on your neck. “thank you” you say softly “but I can’t take this” You knew Patrick was insanely wealthy and this was nothing to him but you still felt guilty taking something so luxurious and glamorous. “No,take it I bought with you in mind it” he says “you’re worth every cent in my pocket and so much more. If you ever need help in anything at all financial issues, you need errands done, or just need company count on me okay?” He says his dark brown eyes staring into your eyes he looked at you so tenderly and lovingly. You swore his pupils were turning into hearts you felt something so different so warm,so alive, so loved. He slowly leans in to your lips pressing in a kiss. There was no lust or hunger behind that kiss. It was a rather gentle loving kiss.He slowly pulls away with a smile admiring your beautiful face. He caress your cheek. “Would you like to spend the day with me?” He says softly “we can go get breakfast and go shopping,It honestly doesn’t matter I just to be around you.” “i would love to” you grin he gets up from the bed and slowly picks you up carrying you like a bride. You can’t help but giggle. He softly kisses your forehead “I love you” he whispers “I Love you too dear” you say

Hey guys not to sound like Wikipedia or desperate YouTuber i would really appreciate a follow!! I’m trying to grow my account. Thank you for all the likes!!

[bigmpregnm]

Chosen 2022 - Rework

[Story Collection] | [●]

Daniel had always considered himself a regular guy despite what others might say. Sure, he was tall—really tall at 6’5”—but he never thought much of it. Few people were taller than him, but he didn’t pay much attention to this fact. Daniel was also in pretty good shape, weighing a solid 260 pounds, most of it muscle. His friends often called him “stud,” which he found flattering, though, in his mind, he was still just a regular guy.

At 24 years old, he was finally starting to embrace adulthood. He’d graduated from college a few months earlier, landed a great job close to his hometown, and finally felt like things were falling into place. Daniel lived alone in a small apartment, but he didn’t mind. He couldn’t afford anything bigger, and he didn’t need it. It was just him. He rarely had visitors—he didn’t go on dates, and most of his friends had moved a few states away after college. His life might have seemed a bit lonely to some, but he was happy. There was something peaceful about his routine.

On this particular Saturday, October 1st, Daniel made the three-hour drive back to his parents’ house, something he did every few weekends since he lived so close to them. Unlike most guys his age who couldn’t wait to move away from their parents, Daniel enjoyed visiting. However, he arrived unannounced this time and found the house empty. After a quick call to his dad, his parents told him they were spending the weekend at a cabin in the mountains. His father suggested that Daniel stay the night and wait for them to return on Sunday evening. After a moment’s thought, Daniel agreed. It wasn’t like he had any other plan.

But after a while of being alone in the quiet house, boredom hit him, so Daniel decided to head to the local gym for a workout. Maybe he’d run into someone interesting—a good-looking guy or a hot woman to hang out with. Daniel was bisexual, though he kept that to himself. His parents still thought he was “the straightest straight.”

The gym was almost empty when Daniel arrived. A few guys were working out, but none caught his eye. He easily outweighed the biggest by at least 60 pounds, which didn’t help make things more exciting. Still, he set to work on his routine, moving through the machines, pushing his body harder and harder. The more he worked out, the more he noticed the stares from the other guys. They were whispering, pointing, and staring at him in awe.

Daniel upped the intensity with a smirk, adding more weight and reps to the routine. By the time he finished, he had the best pump he’d ever felt. His muscles looked incredible, practically bulging out of his tank top, and he couldn’t help but admire himself in the mirror as his massive dick stirred in his shorts in response. His grin grew more cocky, feeling his thick, foot-long dick painfully hard in his shorts. He was above average in that area, and despite his usual humbleness, he loved to show it off. He couldn’t help but notice the appreciative looks of the others. They weren’t even pretending to work out anymore; they were watching him, eyes filled with lust.

As much as Daniel enjoyed the attention, he knew it was time to wrap up. After a long shower, he gathered his things and started to head out. His thoughts were elsewhere as he exited the gym, so much so that he didn’t notice the man walking toward him on the sidewalk until it was too late. They collided, sending the man’s phone and bags to the ground.

“Oh, I’m really sorry!” Daniel blurted out, immediately crouching down to help.

The man standing before him was about three inches shorter and looked 3 or 4 years older. He had a strong-looking build, with broad shoulders and thick arms. But what caught Daniel’s attention was his belly. It was enormous, round, and firm, almost cartoonishly large. Daniel had never seen a belly this big.

“No, no. It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention,” the man replied, awkwardly trying to pull his shirt down over the lower part of his abdomen. As he did, Daniel noticed that the man’s chest was also fat and large, and his hips and butt were thick. The poor guy looked like he hadn’t seen the inside of a gym in years. Still, despite his size, there was something undeniably handsome about him.

As the man struggled to gather his belongings, Daniel instinctively bent down to help. He picked up the phone and, in doing so, his hand accidentally brushed against the man’s belly. To his surprise, he felt the belly shift slightly, as though it had a life of its own. Daniel quickly recoiled, his heart racing.

“Are you alright?” the man asked, grabbing Daniel’s hand in concern.

The moment their skin touched, Daniel felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him, so powerful that it knocked him backward. He landed on the pavement with a thud, blinking in shock. Before Daniel could even fully process what had happened, the man clutched his belly and let out a low groan. His face contorted in discomfort, and he began waddling away, muttering to himself.

“No, no. Not him! Not now,” the man kept saying.

Daniel scrambled to his feet, watching in confusion as the man continued to waddle away, clutching his abdomen as though it were causing him pain. “Hey, are you alright? Do you need a doctor?” Daniel called after him, but the man didn’t stop. He kept moving, his massive body swaying as he hurried down the sidewalk.

Daniel couldn’t help but stare at the man’s massive ass as he retreated, his mind racing with questions. He wanted to follow, to get answers, but something held him back. He stood frozen in place, watching as the man climbed into a car and drove away without a word, leaving Daniel standing alone, more confused than ever.

**

Later that day, Daniel was in his parents’ house, still processing the strange encounter. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the TV in front of him, the tingling in his hand refused to go away, as if it remembered the brief contact with the man’s belly. Daniel stretched out on the couch, hoping that maybe time and a bit of distraction would help him shake the uneasy feeling. But as he was starting to relax, the doorbell rang.

The sudden sound startled him, and he hesitated for a moment. He was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs, and whoever was outside seemed impatient, the ringing growing more persistent. Not wanting to be rude, Daniel finally stood up, hoping it wasn’t one of his mother’s friends—it wouldn’t be ideal for them to find him nearly naked.

He opened the door cautiously, peeking out, but it wasn’t a familiar neighbor or a family friend. Standing there was the same man he’d bumped into earlier, though he looked far worse this time. His face was slick with sweat, his breath labored, and he was clutching his swollen belly with both hands in discomfort.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I really need your help,” the man gasped. “My car broke down, and I just need a place to sit. Please.”

Daniel blinked, taken aback. The man looked even more exhausted than earlier, and his face expressed desperation. Daniel wasn’t sure if the man recognized him from their previous encounter. But the man looked at him so firmly that it made Daniel feel like he knew this visit was inevitable.

After a beat of hesitation, Daniel nodded, stepping aside to let the man in. “Come on in, take a seat,” Daniel said, guiding him toward the couch. “You sure you don’t want me to call for an ambulance or something? You look like you’re in a lot of pain.”

The man softly groaned as he settled onto the couch, his large body sinking into the cushions. “No! Doctors can help me,” he said, his voice strained. “This condition is rare. An ambulance won’t do me any good.”

Daniel couldn’t help but feel concerned as he watched the struggle. Sweat dripped down the man’s face, and his breathing came in shallow gasps. For a moment, Daniel worried that the man might be seriously ill. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Daniel asked, still feeling uneasy. “I don’t want you to—well, you know—pass out or something.”

The man offered a weak smile, though his expression remained strained. “I know this is weird,” he admitted, “but I’m glad you’re a nice guy. My name’s Rupert, by the way. I live a few towns away, but I was in the area and—ugh,” he winced, rubbing his belly again, “needed to pick up a few things.”

Daniel nodded, still uncertain but doing his best to remain polite. “I’m Daniel,” he said. “This is my parents’ house. I’m just visiting for the weekend.”

“Ah,” Rupert said, his voice soft but strained, “that explains it. I hadn’t seen you around before.” He seemed to study Daniel, his eyes lingering on him, before speaking again. “I don’t want to bother, but I just need a few hours to rest. I can pay you if you want. Just name it, and I’ll give you whatever you want,” he said, making Daniel shiver at the offer.

Daniel shook his head quickly, feeling a little guilty at the offer. “No, no, it’s fine. You don’t have to pay me for anything. If you need a place to rest, I’m happy to help. My parents always taught me to lend a hand when someone needs it.”

Rupert’s tired expression softened, and he offered Daniel a grateful smile. “Thank you, Daniel,” he murmured. He adjusted himself on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position. His large frame made it difficult, though, and his shirt had slightly ridden up over the curve of his belly. “I don’t suppose you could help me out of these tight clothes, could you? You seem really comfortable with that hot body of yours on full display.”

Daniel blushed at the compliment and briefly hesitated, his pulse quickening. Rupert was clearly uncomfortable, and his clothes did seem to be straining against his bulk, but the request caught him off guard. Still, Daniel nodded, moving closer to help, longing to see the man fully naked. “Yeah, sure,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “Let me give you a hand.”

As Daniel carefully helped Rupert remove his sweat-drenched shirt, he marveled at how solid the man’s chest and stomach were. Rupert’s pecs were firm, his nipples thick, and his belly was taut, not at all like the soft fat Daniel had imagined earlier. Daniel carefully helped Rupert remove his sweatpants, revealing a thick lower body that made Daniel gasp. Rupert was wearing a jockstrap, which could barely contain the massive bulge he carried beneath his belly. His dick was huge, and his balls seemed bigger than anything Daniel had seen, a remarkable fact since his own assets were far larger than average.

“Thanks so much, big guy. I’m feeling a bit better,” Rupert said as he leaned back on the couch. “I appreciate this, Daniel,” he added, caressing his massive belly.

Daniel was speechless, his foot-long, hard dick straining the fabric of his boxer briefs. He tried to push the horny thoughts aside and focus on helping Rupert get comfortable. But the man’s almost naked, round body and massive bulge had Daniel hypnotized. He could even feel his ass squirming in need as his eyes observed Rupert’s huge bulge, longing to feel that monster cock stretching his inside to the limit. Daniel had never seen himself as a bottom, but Rupert was so hot, and his dick was so big that Daniel couldn’t resist the urge to caress his own dick through his boxer briefs with desire.

“Do you like what you see, Daniel?” Rupert whispered, his voice purposely sensual. “I’ve always heard that tall people have big dicks, and it seems like the rumors are true,” he said, slowly reaching for Daniel’s crotch to rub the huge fuck tool, making him gasp.

“Yours looks even bigger,” Daniel said, enjoying Rupert’s touch. Then he noticed Rupert’s bulge also throbbing and growing as his dick hardened.

“I bet that massive dick is painfully uncomfortable inside these boxers. You may take them off. I’d be glad if I could take my jockstrap off because you’re making me so hard, Daniel,” Rupert said in a hypnotic tone that made Daniel immediately obey, removing his boxers and helping Rupert remove his jockstrap.

Rupert stroked Daniel’s foot-long dick while his own rose to about 16 inches long and thicker than a soda can. Rupert’s balls were bigger than grapefruits, and Daniel could barely contain his excitement as he observed the magnificent assets.

“I knew you would like this,” Rupert said, still stroking Daniel’s dick with one hand while rubbing his belly with the other. “When I said I could pay you for your help, I really meant it. So, if you want to take a ride, I’m all yours, Daniel.” Rupert winked at Daniel and stroked his dick hard, and the young man could only respond with a firm nod.

“Yes, please. I-I need it,” Daniel said, drooling at the sight of Rupert’s massive hard dick.

Rupert grinned, releasing Daniel’s dick from his grip to use his hands to sit up as best as he could. “So, do you have a bed where we can be more comfortable?” he asked, looking down at his belly. “A big man like me can’t do much with this on the way.”

“Sure!” Daniel replied excitedly. “But it’s upstairs. Do you think you can get there?” He asked, blushing as he gestured to Rupert’s belly and pecs.

Rupert laughs and pats his belly. “I’ll manage. And you’re a strong boy, so if I need any help, I’m sure you’ll handle it. Just help me get up, and I’ll waddle up the stairs.”

Daniel followed Rupert’s instructions and led him upstairs. Rupert was panting as they entered Daniel’s room, so he groaned and took a few seconds to catch his breath as Daniel helped him sit on the bed. Once Rupert’s breathing had steadied, he grabbed Daniel’s dick and pulled him into a long and passionate kiss. His belly pressed tightly against Daniel’s abs, who could feel some movements within, confusing him. But the horniness was stronger than any rational thought.

Daniel got his hands on Rupert’s belly and rubbed large circles over the taut surface, making the man groan. His hands then moved to knead Rupert’s pecs, marveling at how firm and plump they felt. Finally, Daniel reached for Rupert’s hips to squeeze them, making the man moan in pleasure. Rupert’s hands also moved all over Daniel’s muscular torso, turning him on like never before. Daniel was desperate to feel Rupert’s dick buried in his ass; his mind could barely focus on anything but the big man before him.

“I hope you’re ready because you’ll never be the same after this,” Rupert whispered between kisses, caressing Daniel’s pecs.

“I know. Your dick will stretch me so much that no one else will ever satisfy me,” Daniel said, chuckling at how odd the sentence sounded. “Also, you’ll be my first ever.”

“I know. I knew from the beginning that I’d be your first,” Rupert chuckled as they continued making out. “But I didn’t mean it like that. You’ll find out eventually.”

“You’re so hot. I’m glad you’ll be my first,” Daniel said, teasing Rupert’s nipples and making him moan. “I need you to fuck me, but I don’t have any lube. I don’t think your massive dick will fit. I’ve never, you know.”

Rupert grinned, a devilish and playful look in his eyes. “I have a way. Don’t worry, and let me do my magic,” he said and shifted in bed. “Get on all fours, pretty boy. Your world is about to get upside down. Men and women loved this part even before I got this big,” he said, and even though Daniel was nervous, he obeyed.

“Please, be gentle,” Daniel asked, his body shivering as he felt Rupert positioning himself behind him.

Rupert rested his massive belly on Daniel’s back and poked at his virgin hole with the apple-sized head of his dick. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” he said, pushing forward to penetrate Daniel.

Daniel moaned when he felt Rupert’s dick touching his ass, desperate to feel it inside. “It won’t fit.”

“It will. You have been chosen for this,” Rupert said and pushed harder, his dick entering Daniel’s hole and making him moan loudly.

Daniel was in pain as Rupert’s dick stretched his hole beyond its limit, but he couldn’t help but long for more. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! More! More! Please!” he begged.

Daniel felt the weight of Rupert’s belly on his back while the man continued pushing inch after inch of thick fuck tool into his needy hole. Daniel’s mind was blurry due to pleasure, but he could feel something moving inside Rupert’s belly. He wondered if it was indigestion or gas problems, which could be the condition Rupert had mentioned. The idea was pretty unappealing but also unlikely since Rupert was too big and heavy to carry only gas in his round abdomen. Even though Daniel was confused, his mind blanked as he felt Rupert going balls deep into him.

“You see? You have 16 inches of dick inside you, and you aren’t dead,” Rupert said. Daniel couldn’t process the words, overwhelmed by the sensation as his body adjusted to the massive intruder. “Are you ready?” he asked, and Daniel could barely come up with an answer.

“Yes,” Daniel whispered, too horny to say anything else.

Rupert’s hips immediately started thrusting, but due to his heavy body, only 4 to 5 inches of his dick slid in and out of Daniel’s hole. Even then, this was more than enough to make Daniel moan louder. His eyes rolled in his head, and his mouth was open, unable to do anything but moan.

“I know how it feels, pretty boy,” Rupert said between groans as he thrust hard into Daniel. “I was in your position about a year ago. I know how intoxicating this is,” he said, but Daniel couldn’t register his words.

Daniel could only think of the massive dick, the balls, the heavy belly, and the plump pecs. He could only enjoy the sensation of Rupert’s dick stretching his hole beyond his wildest dreams. Daniel was so desperate for Rupert’s dick that when the man’s thrust slowed down due to exhaustion, he pushed his hips backward to intensify the sensation. Their movements seemed synchronized, the thrusts getting harder, and the sex sounds grew louder. It felt so good that Daniel wanted this to last forever.

“More! Please! Fuck me harder, fatty!” Daniel mindlessly said, desperate for more.

“Hmm. Soon you’ll see who’s a fatty,” Rupert said, and his thrust regained force and speed, fucking Daniel so hard that the young man almost passed out. Still, he wanted more of the biggest dick on the planet. “Pretty boy, I don’t think I’ll be able to pull out fast enough. I’m so close. Your ass is so good,” Rupert cried out as he felt pre-cum already leaking from his dick into Daniel’s guts.

“Go ahead. Nobody will know if you cum in me,” Daniel responded, already feeling the pre-cum filling his guts as Rupert’s thrust became erratic.

Rupert cried out, and a massive wave of cum exploded from his dick, the stream entering Daniel’s guts with such force that his abdomen started rounding out. “Oh, fuck! It’s so good. Your ass is so good, pretty boy.”

“So much! So much cum. You’re making me blow up,” Daniel said, moving his hand to feel his abdomen getting rounder and feeling his own dick shoot a massive load over the mattress as Rupert thrust a few more times into him. “You made me make a mess,” he playfully added, addressing his round belly and his own cum on his sheets.

“That’s nothing to worry about,” Rupert said, finally stopping cumming as they stayed still, catching their breaths and enjoying the afterglow of the best sex they had experienced.

Rupert pulled his dick out a few minutes later, immediately collapsing onto the mattress, clearly exhausted. Sweat covered his torso, and a white liquid dripped from his pecs. Daniel didn’t ask about that and only lay beside Rupert while he rubbed his belly. 

“This was so good, Daniel,” Rupert said, his voice barely a whisper. “We should get some rest. But first, do you mind if I use your bathroom? Maybe take a bath?”

Daniel yawned, feeling suddenly sleepy. “Sure. There’s a large tub in there. All yours,” he said, pointing at his bathroom door. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Daniel. You’re the sweetest,” Rupert said, leaning to the side to kiss Daniel’s belly. “One last thing. Could you help me stand up? It’s a challenge with this huge, heavy belly on the way,” he said, playfully patting his belly.

Daniel smiled and quickly helped him up. “No problem. I’ll do anything you ask me for,” he said, and Rupert smiled.

Rupert pulled Daniel into a long and passionate kiss that made Daniel’s dick stir to life again. “Thanks, Daniel. I really owe you one. Maybe one day I’ll get to pay for what you’ve done,” he said, breaking the kiss. “Now, try to get some rest. This will take a while,” he added, chuckling while waddling toward the bathroom.

Daniel couldn’t help but marvel at Rupert’s size as he watched him move toward the bathroom. The man was so big that each step seemed strangely captivating. The way his belly swayed hypnotized Daniel and made his heart beat faster. He had never felt attracted to fat men, but something about Rupert ignited an unexpected desire in him. He wasn’t even sure if Rupert was actually fat because, except for his ass, his body was firm and his skin taut. A strange combination that Daniel found hot.

Daniel lay back on his bed, exhaustion washing over him. After all that had happened, his own body felt heavy—his ass was sore, and his stomach was distended as if he were five months pregnant. He chuckled at his absurd thoughts and rubbed his midsection absentmindedly, smiling as he thought about the hottie taking a bath in his bathroom.

“Maybe he’ll let me have a go on his ass later,” Daniel mused softly to himself, the playful thought leading him to a slumber. As he drifted off, a loud splash echoed from the bathroom, followed by Rupert’s groan. The sound barely registered in Daniel’s sleep-addled mind as he slipped further into dreams.

“Oh, fuck! Here comes the first,” were the last words Daniel heard from Rupert in the bathroom before he fell deeply asleep.

**

Daniel awoke hours later, darkness enveloping the room. Disoriented, he blinked, and the memories of the day’s events came rushing back. A smile spread across his face at the thought of Rupert, but as he glanced around, a wave of confusion washed over him. The room was empty. He slowly stood up, feeling the soreness in his hole, and went to turn on the lights and check if he was in the bathroom. However, it was also empty.

“He left?” he whispered, feeling an inexplicable sense of betrayal. “Or did I just dream it?” He shook his head, rubbing his bloated abdomen. The sensation reminded him that it was all too real. Daniel felt like a sexual toy, but at least he had enjoyed the experience.

Returning to bed, he lay on his back and glanced at his nightstand, where a sheet of paper caught his eye. He reached for it and began to read.

“Dear Daniel,

I’m really sorry, but this isn’t my choice. You were chosen, and there’s no other way for things to happen. When we met earlier today, I know you felt something. I also felt it. The same thing happened to me a whole year ago.

You seem like a really nice guy, and you don’t deserve all the trouble this will cause, but it’s out of my control. Let me explain: I was cursed, and now you are. This curse has been passed from one man to the next for centuries, and now it’s on you.

When we met, I was pregnant. It sounds impossible, but I had been pregnant for almost a year. The guy who passed this curse to me also left a note, so I know just the basics:

You’re definitely pregnant now. As soon as you wake up, the babies will start growing, and within minutes, they’ll reach full size. You’ll get huge soon. The word “October” comes from a Latin root that means “eight,” so those who are cursed get pregnant with octuplets. That’s why I went to your bathroom—I had just given birth to octuplets. Don’t worry, I cleaned everything.

The thing is, now you’re pregnant with octuplets, and you won’t be able to give birth until you find the next chosen guy and impregnate him. That’s why I said there’s no other way. I had to get you pregnant to be able to give birth myself. You have to find the next one before Halloween, or you’ll have to wait until next October for another opportunity.

That’s why I spent a whole year with such a massive belly. I couldn’t find you last year, but I really hope you find the right man in the next few days. The guy has to be a virgin, at least his ass, but you don’t need to ask—you’ll feel it when you find the right one. If you don’t believe me, your belly must be starting to grow by now, and it will be at least as big as mine in just a few minutes. After that, you’ll have until Halloween to find the guy and give birth, or you’ll be pregnant until next October.

PN: The curse has a side effect. Your dick and balls will grow to about twice their size, so you’ll be quite a sight. I hope we’ll see each other again someday. Goodbye, Daniel.

Rupert”

Daniel felt a knot form in his stomach as he processed the note. It had to be a joke—some cruel prank. But when he looked down at his bloated abdomen, he felt a rush of horror as his belly began to swell. “No, no, no. This can’t be real!” he exclaimed, panicking. The expansion was rapid and unstoppable. He could feel his dick and balls growing, but soon, his belly obscured them from view. The sensation was overwhelming as his belly reached the size of a basketball and continued growing. He moved his hands to caress his abdomen as he felt something moving inside. He suddenly realized this was what happened with Rupert’s belly throughout their encounter.

His pecs started to swell, firm and full, and to Daniel’s shock, he felt a wetness seeping from his nipples. “No, no, stop,” he pleaded as his chest expanded and milk poured out in steady streams. The pressure in his body reached unbreakable levels. He was caught in the overwhelming sensation of all the changes happening, powerless as the curse took full effect. “Please, stop! Stop!” Daniel whispered again, almost crying. But he knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop until he found the next chosen one.

...

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 16

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Warning: Brief mention of S.A.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Five-thirty in the morning. Monday. It had been the day I had been dreading since I’d been whisked away to Dr. Miller’s castle of mystery on Thursday evening. The crushing weight of my feelings overpowered the unanswered questions and the part I tried to ignore - the red flags. I was completely seduced by everything my professor had to offer, from his body to his perplexing home, to the way he looked at me and all of the secrecy involved. Magnetic was the only adjective I had in my mind that could accurately describe how things felt.

When my alarm sounded off, waking both of us, Dr. Miller turned it off and cuddled me close for another extra second or two, holding me from behind.

“I’m going to make you breakfast,” he explained, kissing the top of my shoulder. “Go take a shower.”

I turned to face him and our noses touched as I spoke. “Okay.”

Dr. Miller kissed me and my hand naturally moved to his face. Why did this day have to come? Would I ever get the chance to come back here? Were his words in the heat of our passionate weekend truthful, or just said in the moment?

“I’ll drop you off at work.”

It suddenly dawned on me that I had left my car on campus all weekend. Before I could say anything about it, Dr. Miller spoke, again, like he could read my thoughts.

“I had your car towed to your house,” he informed me. “It’s paid for. I just didn’t want anything to happen to it all weekend unattended.”

I opened my mouth to speak but then stopped.

“I hope that’s okay,” he added. “If there’s anything wrong with your car I’ll personally-”

“No,” I shook my head to let him know I wasn’t displeased. “Thank you.” I couldn't believe I hadn't even given a single thought to my car. And I couldn't even wrap my head around Dr. Miller having it towed to my house.

“I’ll pick you up from work, too,” Dr. Miller offered, and then added, “If you’d like.”

I smiled at him now, beginning to truly feel that the obsessive, little thoughts that had creeped into my brain were mutual. Dr. Miller wanted to be around me as much as I wanted to be around him. He was doting on me and making sure I was happy and content. I loved how he took care of my every need.

He pecked my lips and I took his face in both hands now and kissed him hard. Dr. Miller reciprocated, kissing me back with just as much intensity as he moved partially on top of me. After a whirlwind romance from Thursday night through Saturday, Sunday had been far more low key after the odd all-nighter that still left me uneasy during any downtime where I had too much time to think. I was ready to get back to the whirlwind.

Dr. Miller parted his lips from mine with a deep breath. “Save it for later.” He dove back in for another kiss, “You’ll be late for work.”

“So what.” I giggled and he kissed me hard again. “We have ten minutes to spare.”

“Mmm..” he grunted the word and I could tell there was a hint of playful frustration that lingered in his response. Dr. Miller’s hands locked mine down onto the bed and he moved fully on top of me. “You don't play fair.”

“Neither do you.”

I made it to work on time that morning - barely. When he dropped me off near the main entrance of the building I was thankful no one I was close with was around to ask questions.

Dr. Miller left me with a steamy kiss behind the tinted windows of his Mercedes and tapped beneath my chin with his first two fingers.

“I'll be back at three-thirty,” he assured me.

“Okay.” Our lips touched again and he waited until I was inside before driving off.

Things almost felt foreign when I walked in through the doors of the building I had been working in for so long. It wasn't the surroundings. I felt different.

“Feeling better?” One of my coworkers greeted me with a smile as I entered the office.

“A lot better.” I smiled back., “Thanks.”

All day behind my desk I went through the motions, but my mind was elsewhere. Thankfully everything on my plate that day was routine and I didn't have to think too hard about what I was doing.

My mind flashed back to all the highlights of the weekend. If I was being completely honest with myself, it was the best weekend of my life.

But where did he go Saturday night?

I knew, in time, I had to ask. I had to know.

The hours ticked by like molasses in winter. Each time I paid attention to the clock it had only ticked by in small increments.

Am I being toxic? I wondered. Is my current obsession truly unhealthy, or is it normal to feel this way about someone early in the relationship? Am I Dr. Miller’s girlfriend? Am I just some random girl to him? I didn't think the last one was true. I wasn't the most intuitive person out there, but I knew I couldn't be reading this wrong. The man dropped me off at work and offered to pick me up. He could've politely suggested I go home at any point in our long weekend together but he didn't.

I breathed and looked at the clock again, suddenly wondering where I would be sleeping that night. Another wave of excitement and anxiety washed over me at the thought. I truly felt like my brain chemistry was being altered from all the dopamine releases as of late. I wasn't complaining, but I hadn't exactly relaxed or turned my brain off for an extended period of time for well over a week - possibly a little longer.

“Hey (Y/N).” My coworker, Olivia, wheeled her chair across the low, blue carpet.

“Hey.” I smiled. “What's up?”

“You're taking classes down at Woodbridge, right?”

There was the adrenaline shot again. Anything that had to do with Woodbridge or Dr. Miller instantly put me into that hyper alert mode.

“Yeah.” I nodded nonchalantly, masking it all rather easily.

“How crazy is it about those girls who were killed?”

“I know.” I shook my head. “I was in class nearby when they found the first body. There was a whole crowd gathered around and reporters and stuff.”

“Wild.”

“I know.”

“At least they have a suspect in mind.”

“What? They do.” Olivia had my attention now.

“Yeah, it was on the news this morning. The police even raided his house this morning but he wasn't there.”

“Who is he?”

“Some guy named Alec Pryor. Registered sex offender, confessed to some seriously messed up shit in the past.”

I shuddered. “That's so scary.” I cringed. “And he was just lurking on campus.. waiting.. ugh.”

“Yeah apparently he got released back in, like, April.”

“They should never let those guys out.”

“Right!” Olivia nodded. “Sexual assault is the lowest kind of crime you can commit. The absolute worst. They should just kill those guys. Get rid of ‘em.”

“I know.” I scrunched my nose and shook my head. “So, where is he then? Did they pick him up somewhere else?”

My work friend whipped out her cell phone and began typing furiously with her thumbs before staring at the screen. She scrolled for a moment and adjusted her circular glasses before pausing as she read up on something.

“This article says..” Olivia angled her body toward mine. “They have yet to find him.” She made a face that broke the tension and made me crack a faint smile. “But they're on the hunt for him, currently.”

“Yikes.”

“Don't go anywhere alone when you're near that campus,” she advised.

“They'll catch him,” I said, only slightly confident that that was true.

“I hope so.”

“So crazy.” I repeated the name to myself. “Alec Pryor.”

“Looks like a creep.” Olivia turned her phone around and showed me a picture of the scowling, middle-aged man in a former mug shot.

“They should post his face all over the place so people are aware,” I said.

“I think they are.” She scrolled some more, “Oo, this one is calling it a ‘manhunt’.”

“That means he's on the run,” I said and added, mostly to make myself feel more secure. “He's probably hours away by now.”

Olivia shuddered and rolled back to her desk. “Be careful. That's all I'm sayin’. This is exactly why I have two German Shepherds.”

“I don't blame you.” I sighed, welcoming the interaction. It was a perfect distraction. I needed it to get my overdriven hormones somewhat back to neutral.

A little female bonding did just that, helping the work day move along a little faster.

When the day finally neared its end, I caught a glance of the Mercedes out one of the many windows in the office. I smiled to myself and hurried to finish up the last of my work and respond to the last few emails.

The time between three-fifteen and three-thirty felt like hours. As soon as the minute hand aligned vertically with the number six, I grabbed my coat and headed out the doors with a quick farewell to everybody.

I didn’t know if anyone was looking when I hopped into the passenger side of Dr. Miller’s car. I didn’t care. All I cared about was the man sitting behind the wheel.

“Hey, baby.” He flashed a cool smile in my direction as I climbed in and I slammed the door behind me.

“I love it when you call me that.” I leaned over and we shared a smoldering kiss. Again, I was thankful for the tints. I was breathless when our lips parted and settled beside him in the vehicle. Dr. Miller rested a hand on my knee as he put the car in drive and cruised out of the parking lot.

“Why don’t you let me drive you home,” he said.

I swallowed hard when he didn’t say anything more. Home? I had to go home and sit there and think of him and what he might be doing? I had to sleep without him? I had to-

“I’ll help you pack some things and then you can..” Dr. Miller shrugged, “Decide how long you want to stay at my place.”

Fuck. I calmed down immediately from the insanely frantic thoughts he caused by the dramatic pause. There was the push and pull of emotions again.

“How long am I welcome for?”

“For as long as you decide.” Dr. Miller glanced over at me as we drove and we both smirked.

“Well, then I better pack heavy.”

Dr. Miller’s grin widened as he stared out at the road. “Suit yourself.’

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17

[thefactsofthematter]

hello newsies tumblr! i’m back to post a scene i found in a random wip folder, from a fic that will probably never exist in full lol

please enjoy some sad canon era javid <3

-

"...and I know we don't pray the same way, you and I, but your folks said you might not mind it if I sat with you and did this. Only one God, ain't there, so I figures we can ask Him for all the help we can get, every which way. Ain’t no harm in extra prayers."

That's Jack's voice.

David is awake, sort of, but too tired to open his eyes. His body is itchy, but he's too tired to scratch himself. His throat burns, so he doesn't dare try and speak.

He just lays there.

"This was my Ma's." He's placing something in David's hand. A string of beads, it feels like. "I should take the time to sit and pray it more often. She carried it everywhere. Only thing I've got left of her, really."

He wraps the beads around David's palm.

"You start at the bottom, see," Jack continues, as if he knows David's listening, "and you say a prayer for every bead. And you gotta have an intention, right— mine for today is that I'm asking God to get you better, 'cause you're starting to scare everyone, Dave, what with how you just keep getting sicker and the fever won't break. We can't go losing you anytime soon, so you've gotta get yourself better as soon as you can."

He's very sick, David realizes. That's why he can't move.

He's a bit scared.

But it's hard to stay scared for long with Jack Kelly holding your hand, so he starts to feel calm again.

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti," Jack murmurs.

David hadn’t realized Jack knew Latin. Wonders where he learned it, since he would've left school before the grades they started teaching it. He only went to school until he was eight— he told David that.

"Credo in Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, Creatorem caeli et terrae..."

Jack continues on in words that David's tired brain can't make sense of, but it's rhythmic and soothing. There's a cadence to it like Jack doesn't actually know what he's saying, has just memorized the sounds, probably at church— it's like how David felt about some Hebrew prayers when he was little, just echoing back what he heard others speak.

From bead to bead, Jack mumbles quiet prayers, and David finds himself, somewhere in his fever-addled brain, feeling quite charmed and grateful that Jack would show him this private, vulnerable side of himself. His faith is deeply personal to him, David knows— it's there in the way he never puts on his arrogant show towards the nuns, the way he's quick to take his cap off even on the steps of the church, the way he scrubs the littlest newsies into their very best shape on Saturday nights and drags them to mass on Sunday mornings. David loves to watch him in those short moments before he eats his dinner each day, lips moving silently as he gives thanks.

It's a softer side of Jack Kelly that often stays well-hidden, but makes itself very endearing when it peeks through.

"I think I might be praying for a miracle," Jack sighs, after a long time of quiet whispering, counting along the beads. His voice is a bit shaky now. "But they happens, you know. They said so in the good book. I know it's the very same God lookin' after you and I, and I know He loves you and won't take you away from us here on Earth, not just yet. Ain't your time."

And he takes the beads from David's palm, replacing them with his own hand. He intertwines their fingers and squeezes.

David tries to squeeze back. It's weak, pitiful, but enough for Jack to gasp.

"I knew it," he whispers. "Oh, I knew it, I knew it, Dave. You're there, ain't you? You're listening."

And David wishes he could give him anything more, but he can feel sleep creeping up on him again, so he lets it come. Not much else he can do, but it's nice to hear some hope in Jack's voice.

[mads-nixon]

Hey Mads,

I saw your requests are open. Could i please request a Dating Eugene Roe headcanon? Thank you 💕

Dating Eugene Roe Headcannons

Eugene Roe x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: My first ever BoB fic was about Gene, so he holds a special place in my heart. Thanks for requesting! I loved writing these!! this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

So you and Gene meet in Aldbourne when Easy first gets moved there in September of 43' (you meet in october).

You're sitting in a coffee shop reading in the corner, and he thinks you're easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Being a shy guy, Gene doesn't say anything to you the first time he sees you. He just subtly glances at you from his spot across the shop.

Turns out, he isn't as subtle as he thinks and you totally notice the staring but don't mind it because you think he's very handsome.

You come into the shop every saturday morning, and every Saturday morning, he's there as well. After a few weeks of sneaking glances, you decided enough was enough.

You walk over and introduce yourself to him, and BOY does he go red when you say that you've noticed him.

Despite the awkwardness of the beggining of the conversation, things fall into a steady rhythm, and you find yourself enjoying his company.

Gene's very soft-spoken and respectful (the BEST listener in the whole company if you ask me)

You get to know each other a little bit, and when you have to leave, you write down your address on a table napkin with a grin, telling him you're free the next day at 6.

The next day, he shows up to your house at 5:55 with a bouquet of roses, wearing his dress uniform. He offers you his arm, and the two of you are off to Swindon for the night.

It ended with a sweet kiss under the stars at your porch (there was no light on because of the black-out being in effect)

from there, it was history, and you soon fell for the cajun medic, and he fell just as hard for you.

Whenever he gets weekend passes, the two of you go for day trips to Swindon or London, strolling down the streets softly talking.

In London, you take him to Crystal Palace Park, where you lay out a soft blanket and have a cozy picnic. Your head lays on his lap, and he gently runs his hands through your hair as he talks about his family back home.

You LOVE hearing the different stories of his grandmother and her healing abilities. It only makes sense that Gene would become a medic to help people, following in her footsteps.

As his training continued and the concern of Sobel leading the company grew, Gene began to bottle up his anxieties and distance himself from you slightly.

I feel like Gene is the type of guy who wouldn't want to tell you his problems because he doesn't want to add to your plate, so he suffers in silence.

You confront him about it and he sighs before telling you everything about Sobel and how incompetent he is. (you hate him with a burning passion...possibly more than Eugene does, but it's close.)

Sunday dinner with your family becomes a weekly thing as time drags on. Your dad was hesitant to bring an American into your house, but he likes Gene more than he ever would have thought.

I'd like to think that Eugene buys you small trinkets that reminds him of you (idk where this came from but it's in my mind now)

OKAY...JEALOUS GENE IS HOT, MAN

we all know he can get fired up (after moose get's shot, he rips Dick and Harry a new one), but what gets him really fired up is when he's jealous

Some nights when you're out at a pub, men will make passes at you despite him sitting right there...boy it grinds his gears.

I have a feeling he would just sit there silent because if he opens his mouth, he knows he wouldn't be able to control himself (imagine his *angry* look after Sobel screws up the training mission in curahee) .

You notice and reach out for his hand over the table, trying to calm him down. "I'm going to get us some drinks," you squeeze his hand before getting up.

Gene's eyes follow you as you waltz across the room, and he takes a deep breath.

His gaze falls to the table for a moment, and when he turns back to you, he sees red. There's a British soldier at the bar who's all up in your personal space and is getting closer every second. Eugene can see the discomfort all over your face.

He shoots up from the table and quickly makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you behind him as he faces the guy.

"Do we have a problem here?" He asks, looking down at the man with fire in his gaze.

The Brit cowers instantly, taking his drink off the table before walking away. "No, sir."

Even through the man was super annoying, seeing Gene like that is incredibly hot, and you turn him around and kiss him.

He calms down pretty quickly after that.

Whenever they have to leave for Upottery, you share a sweet goodbye filled with tears (a lot from you and a few from Gene), and promises of writing.

You keep in contact through letter for the whole duration of the war, and the second he can leave after it's over, he comes straight to Aldbourne and asks you to marry him.

Tag List: @liptonsbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @flowers-and-fichte @merriell-allesandro-shelton

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!

[the-guilty-writer]

Is This Home?

Request from anon: Can you do Derek ! Daughter reader (15) she’s still getting used to savannah being there with them, and maybe she gets upset that they don’t hang out as much because of her, and reader has a breakdown and leaves the house in the middle of the night and she gets lost and hides in an abandoned house until someone finds her (maybe a neighbor of Derek’s) and they call Derek to come get reader and she’s just like no I don’t wanna talk to him and he  sits down and is like listen I know you don’t like me being with someone since your mom and I understand that but you will always be my baby, and they go home that night and she sleeps in the middle of them

Derek Morgan x daughter!reader

Summary: Ever since Savannah moved in with you and your dad, you feel like you’ve been losing him. The night he forgets about your special father-daughter time you flee to a place that feels more homey than your actual home.

A/N: I changed it up the abandoned house part just a little bit because I thought this would make it more meaningful, but overall I tried to stick as close to the request as possible. I hope you like it!

CW: I had fun with swear words in this one (I swore a lot when I was 15. Tbh I still do.), reader's mother is dead, kinda angsty with a fluffy ending. Reader loves her Aunt Penny.

---

“Alright, (Y/N). You think you can hold down the fort tonight?” Your dad, Derek, asked playfulling, putting a hand on your shoulder before leaning over the couch to look at you.

You put down your phone and made a face. “It’s Sunday night,” you said.

“Yes,” he said, drawing out the Y sound like he always did when you said something obvious. “Which means that I trust you’ll be in bed by the time Savannah and I get home from our night out.”

“But-” you started, but it didn’t matter; your dad was already headed upstairs to get ready for his date. The only way he would hear you now was by yelling to remind him that you two ALWAYS did movie night on Sunday. Your mom had died when you were ten and since then your dad had made it a point to spend as much of his free time with you as possible. Unless he was away on a case, movie nights were never interrupted. For five years that was how it had been.

And then Savannah came along.

She wasn’t a bad person. She wasn’t mean. But she wasn’t your mom and sometimes it felt like she was taking your dad away from you. The first time it happened, her and Derek had just started dating. You were so happy that your dad was happy you failed to notice that the same day he took her to the park was the day he was supposed to take you to the firing range. The second time it happened you took the metro from school straight to Quantico to show him that you’d gotten straight A’s on your report card, only to find that he had left work on time for once to take Savannah to see a play (at least your Uncle Spencer was impressed and Aunt Penny took you to get ice cream on the drive home). The third time it happened was the day Savannah moved in with the two of you. The Saturday that was supposed to be spent practicing for your judo certification was instead spent lifting and moving boxes.

Since then it had all gone downhill so fast. Dinners that were usually spent on the couch with just you and your dad shooting the shit about sports turned into dinners at the table making small talk about what everyone’s day was like. The messages he sent to you every night when he was away on a case came to your phone half the time and Savannah’s the other half. Even restoring houses with your dad wasn’t the same anymore. You loved to sit around the table with him and pick out colors for the walls from the swatches he brought home, but of course he had to show the options to Savannah first. She always seemed to throw out the fun colors in favor of more “tasteful” ones before you could give your opinion.

And now your dad was ditching you on movie night to take her out to dinner.

If she was a serial killer you wouldn’t have minded- you were used to your dad having to miss movie night to catch criminals- but he was abandoning you for his girlfriend. His girlfriend. You would much rather have been ditched because Hannibal Lecter was on the loose running wild through some town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere than be left alone so your father could go out to dinner with some woman you hadn’t known for all that long. SSA Derek Morgan would have a good excuse for missing movie night then, but he wasn’t a Supervisory Special Agent right now- he was your dad… and he forgot about you.

You went up to your room, not bothering to turn off the TV which already showed which movie you had picked for that night. Sitting on your bed, you picked up the picture of your mom that sat on your nightstand. You weren’t sure if you were listening for an answer from her spirit, or if you were just lost in the moment of missing her, but it felt like you looked at her picture for hours.

There was a knock on your door. You put the picture of your mom down before calling, “Come in!”

Derek was dressed up a bit more than normal- he traded his typical leather jacket for a blazer and his jeans for casual slacks. “So?” He spun in a circle. “How do I look?”

“Like you asked Uncle Dave for fashion advice,” you told him- if there was one thing you were in the Morgan household, it was honest.

“Okay, ouch.” Your dad brought his hand to his chest. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you said. “The slacks make you look old. Wear black jeans instead.”

Derek smiled. “Okay, well I’m gonna be late since I have to change again. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, dad. I-”

The door shut.

“Love you,” you whispered to yourself. You picked up the picture of your mom again, gazing into her fearless eyes. Oh, mom, you thought to yourself, or maybe you were praying to her. You really didn’t know which one. What am I going to do?

---

You rolled over and looked at the clock- unable to sleep. It was nearly midnight and you dad still wasn’t back yet. How long was dinner supposed to take? How had your dad forgotten about movie night? How had your dad forgotten to tell you he loved you? The questions spiraled in your head over and over again, anxiety building in your gut until you burst into tears.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t be in your room, or the house, or anywhere that made you think about how your dad had forgotten about you. You were still in your clothes from the day, having been too upset to change into pajamas. Silently crying you ran down the stairs and out of the house- needing to get as far away from it as possible.

The logical part of your brain knew that this was the best possible way to get kidnapped- a young girl running down the street alone in the dark was the start to just about every horror movie ever. But the logical part of your brain wasn’t working. All you knew was that you had to run.

You were lost in your thoughts and high from the adrenaline that you lost track of where your legs had taken you. Your vision adjusted to the dark and you looked around. You were somewhere you had been before, but you weren’t sure exactly where. If it was light outside you might be able to pinpoint a landmark or a trail and find your way back, but the night was dense. All there was to do was walk.

Your head was starting to ache from crying and your legs were beginning to feel weary. The taste of copper filled your mouth from running in the coolness of the night. You needed a place to stay but you didn’t want to go home. In the distance you spotted street lights- they were dim but it was better than nothing. Maybe from there you could find a metro stop to take you closer to your Aunt Penny’s- surely she would let you stay with her for the night.

The closer you got to the lights the more you recognized your surroundings. The neighborhood was older, but still in a safe location. The houses were charming on the outside, with wrap-around porches and large grassy yards. You knew the place because Derek had bought a house here years ago, when it was just the two of you. It had always been part of his dream to restore a house like it so he insisted that he would wait for the perfect time to start the project.

Of course there was no such thing as perfect timing. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t touched the house in years. Most of his other restorations were bought and sold within months, but this one just sat. The only evidence that he owned the place at all was that he mowed the lawn every two weeks.

You walked up to the front door and pulled a bobby pin from your pocket, picking the old lock with ease and making your way inside. The house was bare of any furniture or decorations. Paint was flaking off the walls and old plastic covered the hardwood floors. You walked around the house, imagining what it would be like to see the place restored in all its glory- with new crown molding and fresh hardware on the doors. You imagined it with a fresh coat of paint and pictures on the walls.

But at the moment it looked abandoned, withered, and unloved- just like how you felt.

---

It was 1 AM when Derek got a call from an unknown number. The first time he let it go to voicemail, but when the same number called him two more times he had to pick it up. At first he thought it was a prank call- some kid trying to mess with him that one of his houses had been broken into by his own daughter- but when he got home and saw that you weren’t in your room he knew it was true.

He was sure that he broke every speed limit getting to the house, but he didn’t care. What was so wrong that you felt like you had to run away? What had happened and how had he not seen it?

Derek pulled into the driveway and jumped out of the car, Savannah right behind him. His neighbor was standing in the driveway holding a flashlight, waiting for him to arrive.

“Thanks for calling,” Derek greeted the woman- she was a nice older lady. “I’m sorry if she bothered you.”

“Oh it’s fine,” the lady said. “I’ve raised three teenagers myself. I know how they are. She says she doesn’t want to talk to you, but deep down she really does.”

Derek sighed. “I appreciate that. If there’s anything I can do to return the favor, please let me know.” The lady smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder before walking away.

Derek sighed heavily and turned to Savannah. “I’ll be back.”

Savannah rubbed his shoulder supportively. “You’re a great father, Derek.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze before letting go and making his way into the house.

It didn’t take him long to find you. You were curled up in a corner, legs pulled up to your chest with your face buried into your knees. You didn’t even look up when you heard his footsteps. He came closer, kneeling next to you so he was on your level, and reached out to touch your hair. At the contact, you quickly leaned away.

“(Y/N),” he said, his voice full of concern. “Please talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Your words were sad with a slight venom behind them. “Just go away.”

Your dad sighed and sat down on the floor in front of you. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.”

Suddenly, all the emotions from earlier came flooding back. You couldn’t help it- sobs racked your body as you pulled your limbs tighter towards your body. You kept your head down and your eyes shut tight, not wanting to even get a glimpse of your dad.

“You forgot movie night-” you managed to choke out between sobs. “You have Savannah now. You already forgot about mom and now you’re forgetting about me too.”

Derek felt his heart crack. He really had forgotten movie night- the one constant promise that your mom would always be a part of him and you. He took a deep breath and pulled you into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he whispered. He felt his eyes begin to water. “I did forget about movie night.” He pulled back to look at your face. You had grown up so much so fast. JJ was always telling him that if he looked away for too long he would miss it entirely and he almost had. “But that doesn’t mean I forgot about your mom and it sure doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about you. I know it’s hard to see me with someone who isn’t your mom- I get that- but Savannah isn’t replacing her. I will always love your mother and you will always be my baby girl. No matter what.”

The mention of the nickname he only ever used for you and your Aunt Penny brought the tiniest smile to your face. Derek pulled you into another hug.

“Can we go home now?” you asked quietly.

“Of course.” He kissed your forehead and pulled you to your feet, holding your hand as you walked out to the car. Savannah was standing there, a sympathetic look on her face. Your dad helped you into the back seat first before helping her into the front. You were so tired from the emotions and adrenaline that you fell asleep before the car even pulled out of the driveway.

---

Derek gently took your seatbelt off and pulled you out of the car in an effort not to wake you up. He was thankful that Savannah was there to lock the vehicle after him and open the front door so he could carry you up the stairs and towards your bedroom. If working out was good for nothing else but still being able to carry his baby girl at 15 years old, it was worth it.

“Derek,” Savannah whispered from behind him before he opened up your bedroom door. He turned to look at her. “Let her sleep in our room tonight. She’s your baby, but she isn’t going to be for much longer.”

Derek smiled softly and walked to the main bedroom, laying you down in the middle of the mattress. He looked down at your face, sleep softening your features. Changing quickly into his pajamas, he snuggled next to you, pulling your body closer to his. Savannah laid down on your other side, a gentle smile on her face as she watched the two of you together.

For the first time since your mom died, Derek felt whole- like the wound to his heart had healed over with a faint scar to remind him of what was, but allowing him to move forward.

“You know,” Derek said quietly. “I’ve let that house sit for a few years. It is kind of a dream project come true so I’ve been waiting for the right time to work on it.”

“Oh yeah?” Savannah whispered.

“Well it’s bigger than this place.” He ran a hand down your hair. “And there are more kids around (Y/N)’s age. The neighbors are nice and the school district is the same. It’s about 10 minutes closer to the hospital and Quantico.” Derek sighed. “I guess I was waiting for a time when the house could become a home.”

Savannah smiled sleepily. “You think you could make it a home?”

Derek’s smile grew. “I think we could make it a home. Together.” He still had his arms around you when he fell asleep that night and by the morning, Savannah’s arms would be around you too.

Soon there would be a restored house, with more dinners on the couch, nights you could spend with your friends when your dad and Savannah went out, a park nearby to walk in, and a large grassy yard to practice judo. But ultimately, it didn’t matter because the three of you would always see one another as home.

[roosterforme]

The Gray Sweatpants | Rooster x Reader

Summary: For you and Bradley, sharing a home comes easily. He is always willing to put in the extra work to make you happy, and he will do it wearing his gray sweatpants and a smile.

Warnings: Fluff and smut

Length: 2100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order! Based on a request.

Living with you was an interesting change of pace for Bradley. He had gotten so used to tiny living quarters and never sharing anything. But now you were here in this big house, along with all of your colorful stuff, and your perfume, and your kitchen gadgets. And you wanted to share everything with him. 

Not a day went by that you weren't wearing his clothing and using his shaving cream in the shower. And you always offered to share your food with him, holding up a sandwich or forkful of food for him to take a bite. You always seemed to be around asking about his day and giving him all of the details of yours, delivered with your own brand of wit and humor that never failed to have him wrapping his arms around you. 

It was one of the first Friday nights after you moved into his house, and now it was your house, too. Every time he got to use the word "ours", it made him happy in a way he couldn't really explain. 

"I was thinking we should plant a garden in the backyard," you said, feeding Bradley a bite of your dinner from your perch on his lap. You were wearing one of his Top Gun shirts and nothing else, and Bradley couldn't imagine living here without you. "I mean, San Diego kind of sucks for flowers, but we're hardy east coast people. We should have a garden."

"We would have no street cred if we didn't have sad, dying, east coast people flowers," he replied, delighting in the sound of your laughter. 

"Exactly! Plus, the backyard is a little scary, Roo. I'll help you clean it up on Sunday, if you want."

"Sure, Baby Girl. We'll see."

But he had something else in mind now.

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

You woke up on Saturday morning to an empty bed and groaned. Bradley knew you had particular rules concerning him staying in bed with you on Saturday mornings. And you expected a certain level of compliance. 

"Bradley?" you called as you stumbled into the kitchen where you found him brewing coffee and eating some toast in just his gray sweatpants.

"Morning, Sweetheart," he rasped, but your mouth had gone dry. You must still be in bed, asleep and dreaming. That was the only way this would make sense.

You made a soft, strangled sound as Bradley reached up into the cabinet and grabbed your favorite mug. "Want some coffee?"

"Bradley," you whispered. He wasn't even wearing any underwear. You could see the outline of his cock pressing against the soft fabric as the pants hung low on his hips. 

You were taking a step closer to him, ready to drop to your knees when he said, "You'll be late for brunch with Cam and Maria if you don't leave soon." You had completely forgotten about your plans.

Your eyes slid up his naked torso until they met his smirking face. "Why are you not wearing underwear?"

He suddenly looked embarrassed, cheeks flushing pink. "I actually need you to show me how to use the washing machine. I'm almost out of clean clothes. Can you show me after brunch?"

You glanced at the clock on the microwave and sighed. You didn't even have time to properly blow your boyfriend like you wanted to. "Yeah, I'll show you after I get home, Roo," you whispered, running your fingers along his length through his pants.

"Oh fuck," he grunted when you cupped him and squeezed softly. He pressed you against the edge of the counter, and you could feel him getting hard for you. 

But you just stuck your chin in the air. "Next Saturday, make sure you stay in bed with me longer." You ducked out of his grasp with a grin while he groaned your name. "Oh, and I don't want to be late for brunch."

You got ready to go out, and when you passed him in the kitchen before you left, he was eating more toast and glaring at you. 

"You gonna come back and take care of this later?" he grunted, gesturing to his semi.

"Sure, Roo. Right after we do your laundry," you said with a wink. He just grunted in response before you added, "And make sure you don't go out in those pants. They are indecent!"

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

As soon as you were gone, Bradley thought about jerking off, but he knew he had a limited amount of time before you would be home again. So he quickly put his old sneakers on along with his aviators and traipsed out through the sliding glass door to the backyard. You weren't wrong; it was in pretty rough shape.

Bradley kicked over a faded lawn gnome and opened up the shed. He pulled out some shovels and a rake that the previous owners had left, and he got to work. An hour later, he was shocked to find that there was in fact a garden bed buried back along the privacy fence. He dug up dead plants and weird lawn ornaments, tossing everything off to the side to get taken out with the trash. 

He stopped working for a minute to wipe the sweat from his brow. The sun was strong even for early December, but at least it wasn't too hot outside. And now, as he looked around, Bradley was pleased to see that the whole space looked a lot better. His girlfriend wanted a garden? Well then she would get one.

"Roo?" you called from the sliding glass door. You were grinning and heading his way with a cold water bottle. "What are you doing?"

He took the drink from your hand and downed the entire thing before he answered you. "Making the yard nicer for you. Check it out. A garden bed."

But you weren't really looking at the yard as much as you were looking at him. You wrapped your arms around his sweaty torso and kissed him. "You're so sweet."

He grinned down at you but didn't dare touch, not wanting to get your cute dress all dirty. "We can go to the nursery tomorrow and pick out some flowers if you want. We can plant them...." His word trailed off as you bit your lip and slipped your hand inside the front of his sweatpants. 

"I've been thinking about this since I left for brunch." Your voice was soft and breathless as your fingers teased his length before you wrapped your small hand around his cock. "Been thinking about these gray sweatpants."

Bradley let you ease the fabric down until he was fully exposed. You were licking your lips and moaning softly. He knew exactly what that meant.

"God damn it," he groaned as you dropped to your knees on the grass in front of him. He was standing in the center of the yard, looking around to see if there was any way one of the neighbors could see what was going on. But when you kissed and licked away his precum before parting your lips and taking his tip, he decided he didn't care. 

Bradley reached one big palm to the back of your head and guided you along. You took him a little deeper, looking up at him as your mouth filled up with each inch of him until your lip was brushing his coarse hairs. You gagged a bit, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked on him. "You're such a good girl. I'll give you anything you want."

You moaned around him, your tongue swirling along the underside of his entire length until you pulled him out to the tip. You kissed him sweetly and softly asked, "You know what I want, Roo?"

Bradley shook his head a little bit, dazed as you let his cock rest against your plush tongue. He was panting now and twitching as your hot breath teased his dick. 

"You tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."

You giggled and smiled up at him with half lidded eyes as your tongue caressed him. You kissed his swollen tip and nuzzled him with your nose before you said, "I want you to fuck me. Right here. In our backyard."

Bradley hauled you to your feet by grabbing your elbows. You squealed with delight, but he hushed you with one hand over your mouth. "I'll give you what you want, but you have to behave. You want our elderly neighbors calling the cops, because they think I'm back here trying to murder you?"

You groaned and licked Bradley's palm, gripping his cock with both hands. "Please, Bradley. Please make it so good that it sounds like that!"

His hand drifted down to your neck, and he led you to the side of the shed, stroking your soft skin as you practically purred for him. His hard dick bounced along, hanging out over his sweatpants as he backed you up against the small building. "Okay."

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

You were so turned on for him, and you blamed it all on his sweatpants. He had no idea what he was capable of in those things. But without underwear? Bradley Bradshaw should have been illegal. 

And now he had your back pinned against the shed with his huge hand on your neck while he reached into your underwear and started to finger you. 

"Oh," you gasped, admiring the way his aviators were sliding down his nose while you rode his middle finger. The pressure on your throat wasn't enough to hurt, but it was enough to make you feel like you were no longer in charge here. And that feeling excited you. 

Bradley's thumb stroked your clit, and you cried out for him. "Shh, be a good girl," he whispered, kissing your lips one time while his middle finger pressed forward on your most sensitive spot. When you whimpered, he kissed your forehead and said, "Yeah, nice and quiet, Baby Girl. Show me how good you can be."

You kept your little noises as quiet as you could, moving your hips in time with his thumb stroking you. When you were close, Bradley slipped his finger out of you, leaving you whining his name. He spun you to face the shed, yanking your underwear down so the lace brushed along your legs before they hit the ground. You planted both of your palms against the siding as Bradley pulled your dress up to your waist, fully exposing you to any neighbor who could have potentially been a little too nosy. 

"Oh my god," you groaned as Bradley planted his left hand above yours and guided himself inside you with the other. 

"You're so fucking wet." His voice was deep and needy as he fucked you, placing his hand on your pussy. He let you rub yourself against him as he bumped you along with his thrusts. 

"Bradley." The second syllable was much louder than the first, your voice rising in pitch with pleasure. "Fuck!"

"Shh," he scolded once more. "Quiet, or I'll stop."

It was an empty threat, you were sure of it. He must be beyond the point of no return, but just in case, you covered your own mouth with your hand. He had you pinned tight between his pelvis and his palm, grinding against your butt, and holding you in place.

The beautiful friction of his palm had you clenching and cumming as your orgasm washed over you suddenly. "It's so good," you whined, needing both hands on the shed to keep yourself upright. "You're so good, Roo."

The string of obscenities he muttered next to your ear were nowhere near as filthy as his cock slamming into you and filling you with his cum. He used your pussy to drain him of every last drop as you pulsed around him, and when he withdrew, you felt your thighs get coated with his mess.

You spun around to face him, eyes wide. "I can't believe you fucked me in the backyard." Your eyes dipped down to his cock, softening and dripping your mixed ejaculate all over those gray sweatpants. 

He tipped your chin up and looked at you over the top of his aviators. "You tell me you want something, I'm going to give it to you. Especially if it's my cock."

You grinned and kissed him before adjusting his sunglasses. "Let's go inside. We have even more laundry to do now." You tucked him back inside his sweatpants before stepping out of your underwear. "Don't forget those," you said, pointing to the scrap of lace in the grass.

You watched Bradley bend down and pick them up, bringing them up to his nose with a grunt as he followed you inside.

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

I hope you enjoyed Rooster's gray sweatpants @thedroneranger

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[andiftheycare]

AU where Suguru’s an overworked salaryman and Satoru keeps stealing his umbrellas as a bad attempt at flirting.

Or the you swan he frog meme but make it a fic

☂️ Part one here, and also on twt

☂️ Part two point one here, and on twt. Part two point two here.

Notes: I resisted posting this bit because I wanted one scene TM to be part of this update. However, this is now 2k so it's too long for a tumblr post so the scene I wanted will be in the next update (I'll try to update every Sunday moving forward!). More romancing and more umbrellas to come. If you like this and you'd like to be friends do interact!! let's be friends!! also as usual it's highly unedited etc will be edited once it's on AO3.

Tags to be aware of: AU, squint and it’s a reincarnation au (more on this soon), office AU, pals I think this will be tagged "Mature" for part 5 :D

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

“Are you looking for a date?” 

Mimiko sits in front of him, hands clasped on the table, while Nanako nods next to her, posture more lax but expression less open. Suguru is hit by the memory of his parents sitting him down and trying to convince him to attend a couple of omiai.

The picture’s so close it makes him smile. 

“We know, like, you’re not old old.” Nanako says, heavily implying Suguru’s next to pension age. “And we talked about it.”

“You… talked about it?”

They exchange a glance. Brief. Quick. Suguru knows what it means when they team up like that. They’re up to mischief. 

“We made a list of people you could date.” Nanako continued, opening her notes app but not showing her screen. “Because you can do better than that—“

“Put that on your umbrella,” Mimiko concludes, palms now open, legs uncrossed. “It’s very…”

Where Mimiko aims, Nanako shoots “Lame.”

Drop dead silence follows, while Suguru struggles, briefly, to connect the dots, until his most recent sticker comes to mind, and he thinks that idiot. Printing shit like that and having his way with Suguru’s possessions. 

“I’m not interested in dating,” Suguru explains, well knowing he’s losing so many points in the eyes of his once doting daughters “It’s to deter criminals from —“

“You know, most of my friends think you’re hot.” Nanako grits that through her teeth, disgust seething from her words. She moves a hand around her face, then “They’d steal your umbrella just to find in you the love of their life.”

“That’s… concerning.”

Mimiko nods. “We don’t want to pressure you, but we thought…”

“If you’re not, like, finding someone because…”

Another glare is exchanged. This time they slightly bow their heads, and Suguru straightens up on his chair, offers them a smile but doesn’t reach to caress their heads. They don’t like that anymore. 

“It’s not because of you.” 

The twins’ shoulders reflexively drop.

“Now, have you finished packing?”

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

The flat is eerily quiet for the rest of the weekend. Mostly, Suguru spends it catching up on some sleep, trying to ignore how tense he feels, how tired he still is after he wakes up in the afternoon to an empty stomach.

Despite the spasming requests of his body, though, he can’t seem to keep anything in, the nausea coaxing him into fasting after a few bites of anything that isn’t plain. 

Suguru doesn’t mind it. 

That’s part of his summer routine, getting asphyxiated by the city heat so much to the point his body rejects nourishment. He’ll get over it soon. 

What’s new it’s the lingering taste of rotten food he awakens to in the morning. It’s worse when he dreams, which is happening with unexpected frequency, and which leaves him in a bizarre state of nostalgia, despite Geto not remembering much of it.

So he sits on the floor of his living room on Saturday night, an untouched open beer in front of him - admittedly, a bad idea - and a couple of texts from Mimiko and Nanako, going through the basic yeah we arrived safely, grandad’s fine but grandma says he needs to get his eyes checked, connection’s terrible as usual.

Have fun, Geto types back, and saves for himself the promises he can’t keep, like, I’ll come with you next year, or I’ll make it to the summer festival next weekend.

Mimiko and Nanako spend most of their summer holidays with their grandparents in the house where Suguru grew up. It’s near where the twins were born, too, so they can visit their parents’ grave and enjoy those seasonal friendships that last less than a month, but seem to revamp with the same strength every time they are reunited. Mostly, they can have someone around rather than rot in their city flat, and enjoy some breeze and fresh watermelon and nights full of stars.

Suguru hasn’t been back in years. Not properly, anyway. The summer’s also one of his busiest times at work.

His phone lights up — 

stuck at the airport 

It’s so boring 

Send help

— and he watches the succession of texts populating his screen. 

After unlocking it, Suguru’s also met with a selfie of Gojo resting his chin on his hand, disgust written all over his face, shades resting on the top of his nose.

They canceled my flight

I can’t do anything about it

Can you, like, come and pick me up?

Gojo sends his location. He’s pinned somewhere far south. 

On what, a giant flying dragon?

Do you have one? 

Don’t be ridiculous 

Suguru takes a sip while Gojo types. The electric fan on the tatami barely moves hot air around him. There’s a memory that isn’t his in his mind, of a younger Gojo lying in front of a fan, moaning, asking Suguru to make it stop, use your weather curse or something, please, Suguru, please and Geto frowns at his fan, at the phone and the open can and then the memory is gone. The absence in the room takes roots in him. 

(“Take off your clothes. That’ll make you feel better.”

“Take them off me yourself, you coward.”)

So short fun story which isn’t neither short nor fun is I’m here for a work gig and there’s a storm

Can’t book a hotel because they’re all full 

Can’t go home because now home is terminal 5

Not thinking, Suguru calls him. If he they have to keep texting, he might as well —

“Satoru.”

“Suguru?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

A breath. Another one. How close is his phone to his mouth? “Well, if this isn’t a fun development.”

“It’s just a phone call.”

“Suguru.”

“Uhm?”

“So are we on a first name basis now?”

Suguru hangs up. Gojo sends him a voice note that’s just him laughing, then video calls him. Suguru should probably take that as a cue to go to sleep at a normal hour, instead of entertaining the maniac on the other side of the country.

“What?” Gojo prods closer to the camera as if that could get him closer to Geto. “Are those earrings?”

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

Nothing gets stolen on Monday. There are now two evil curses protecting his umbrella, on top of the Omamori. 

Maybe that’s the answer. The blessing doesn’t have to counterbalance evil energy; it has to be outnumbered by it. Maybe his grandma would’ve had an opinion on that power imbalance, too.

Yuki, for sure, has one “Oh, are you looking for a special someone?”

She catches him as they enter the building and he’s closing the umbrella, “Or are you craving crab?”

Politely, Suguru smiles at her as they walk to the elevator “You never told me what’s your type.”

“Because that’s unprofessional to ask.”

They press the floor button on the elevator. Yuki leans on the mirror, folding her arms “Well, you know how it is. They keep denying that promotion because you don’t have a family.”

Geto likes Yuki. In the measure where you can like your manager and work well with them and respect the trajectory of their careers. And he knows she’s right, that having two children helped him immensely in progressing, that getting a partner would grant him access to better insurance, a better job, because if you have to provide for a family, then, you need more money. They’re a traditional company after all.

And Geto isn’t old. But when he’ll be in his thirties, he’ll get pushed into marriage by the higher-ups. Those are the rules. Yuki is, once again, doing the company’s bids. 

And she’s right. Geto hates her for it. 

“You aren’t married either.”

“I’m a woman,” Yuki says, the elevator going up and up “I wouldn’t be here if I was.”

Geto shakes his head. “How’s that fair?”

A grin. “Get a wife already.”

The doors open. “You sound like my dad.”

“I’ll set you up.”

“Now you sound like my mum.”

“Smart woman.”

Suguru lets the conversation go as he mostly does when Yuki’s chatter derails, before she gets back into work mode and disappears into a string of endless meetings.

And so the week begins again. Not that Geto remembers the week before, or the one before that. It’s interesting what stress does to your brain, how the repetition of an endless circle of moments stretched to be all the same can deeply mess you up. Yet Suguru’s pass the phase of worrying about the blurred lines of his job - he just does it. He knows that his actions in that building have no meaning in the real world if not enriching the rich, or pleasing some of his bosses, or fattening his bonuses. The latest he can’t complain about, really.

But he doesn’t even sleep at his house, most days, and weekends are for recovering and spending time with his daughters and skimming through the upstanding admin, so it’s hard, sometimes, to remember he’s a person.

Because that requires energy the same way that excitement and joy and anger do, and he’s saving all the bits of it he has to be a decent person when he can.

So he doesn’t date — doesn’t have the time to — and whenever he wants to fuck he can find someone. He can always find someone. Again, another thing that requires a fully functioning brain, another thing he doesn’t miss, that he doesn’t think about much. 

Unexpectedly, he looks at his umbrella, tucked next to his drawers. How silly it is, the whole thievery thing, how it annoys him in a way that’s out of proportion, because that’s what happens to your feelings when you don’t feel them — once they’re out, they’re out in a big way. How, though, there’s something tucked in his anger. There’s 

A message pops up. 

You don’t need to return the suit 

I take you’re back.

Did you miss me?

Suguru turns his phone so the screen’s facing down, a smile cracking on his face. Nanami stares suspiciously at him for the rest of the day.

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

“You’re weird.”

Suguru puffed out a cloud of white smoke. Nanami shakes his head, “I didn’t know you could smile.”

“That’s rude.”

Nanami shrugs “Didn’t know you could smile and mean it.”

“Didn’t know you cared.”

“No one should be that miserable for their job.” He says, with an unflinching expression. 

“You don’t smile much either.”

“I never feel particularly inclined to smile at you, senpai.” 

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

The neighborhood gets quiet past ten at night. When the other salary men hit the karaoke rooms and the company drinks and runs home, Yuki abandons the office with a “Go home, Suguru!” and a cigarette already between her lips, lights flickering above her head.

And with that, the office floor’s quiet, and Geto knows that at some point around that time, Gojo will be browsing the sweet section of the downstairs Konbini, mistaking sugar for nutrition.

“It keeps me awake,” he says once to him, distractedly. “The taste’s better than coffee.”

Geto disagrees, says he’s stupid, says he needs to sleep, and that’s a weird memory to have, because while that one’s real – Geto lived that conversation and stole Gojo’s last gummy from his packet – it also feels like part of multiple conversation they had in a past life.

Another thing Suguru doesn’t believe in. 

He stretches and looks at his screen’s clock, and gets some more work in. He wants that promotion without marrying, which is why he’ll spend July living in the office, clean clothes stocked up in his locker so he can stop going back home. Hopefully his shirts won’t get too crumpled. 

For a second, he thinks about Gojo’s suit hanging in his wardrobe. After all, he might need to go back to his apartment for it.

“Have you lost weight?” Gojo blinks at him from behind his shades.

Geto unwraps his plain onigiri, sitting down. The rain hits the plastic covering them in the outside sitting area of the convenience store. Gojo leans closer, face scrunching and eyes squinting “Like, why are you barely eating your —“

With a gesture that comes with ease, Suguru places the palm of his hand on Satoru’s chest and pushes him back on the chair. Suguru takes him on, from the way his forehead relaxes to the long second he spends looking at Suguru’s hand moving away, and he feels warm. He wants to know what else he’d let his hands do to him.

Suguru clears his throat. “I haven’t.” 

Gojo leans back, legs open and hands in his pockets, “You like soba, right?”

It’s his favourite dish. Suguru, however, hasn’t told him that. “Like, in general?”

Satoru nods. “There’s a restaurant ten minutes from here. If you, uhm, fancy a real meal. It’s open all night”

“Stop hitting on me.”

Satoru grins “Thought you liked it.”

“In your dreams.”

At that, Gojo falters. So unlike him. So unlike the fragments of the boy that visits his sleep. Suguru stops chewing, his stomach grumbling in displeasure. 

“What if you do like it? In my dreams, I mean.”

Throat tight, Suguru follows the movement of Gojo’s lips, drops of rain hitting the asphalt, Gojo’s brief silence rendered inaudible. “Do you dream of me often?”

There’s something unsaid, because Suguru dreams of him every night. When he closes his eyes, he sees blue ones smiling at him and feels sand under his toes. He doesn’t know how it makes him feel, having all that knowledge about a version of Gojo Satoru who doesn’t exist. 

“What if,” Satoru breathes, a sly grin thinning his lips “What if you were younger in my dreams?”

“How much younger?”

“Seventeen.”

Suguru halts. Gojo hides behind his glasses, which are square and not round today. “That’s young.”

“You have shorter hair, too.”

“Weirdly specific.”

The grin smothens into a smile. “And bigger earrings.”

The onigiri lies abandoned on a piece of paper. The air is muddy and warm, and Suguru’s shirt sticks to him like a second skin. Instinctively, he touches his naked lobes. Earrings are not part of his company’s dress code. "Interesting."

“But,” Satoru says, looking up to the rain, “I don’t get to see much of you as you are now, in those dreams.”

“What?”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Like I don’t know what you looked like in high school. I bet you had acne.”

“I never had acne.”

“Liar.”

Suguru breaths in. “What’s your point?”

“Why don’t I dream of you?” Satoru relents, as if annoyed. “Why do I dream of this teenager I don’t know?”

Suguru’s mouth grows dry, at that, heartbeat jumping in his ears. He’s dizzy. “Soba, uhm?”

Satoru’s knees jerk up. “What does it have to do with –”

“I think I might want to grab some. If you want to...”

Gojo’s on his feet before Geto can finish his sentence, mood shifted into something bright, and for now, Geto doesn’t need his dreams to tell him how to feel about this aggravating man.

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 16

Hello, darlings! I wanted to get this to you before I got too busy and forgot. My birthday is on Monday and I'm having a party on Saturday that I'm preparing for today, tomorrow, and most the day Saturday. I hope to get something out during that time, but I might not be able to get it up until Sunday.

Also I found out I was accidentally tagging @chaoticlovingdreamer twice! I don't think it did anything, but it was funny it took me this long to catch on!

Speaking of tagging, it used to be easy to tag from a copied list, just click on name, select drop down, move on to the next. But for some stupid reason I can't anymore and have to delete the last character in their username to get it to pop up. Is anyone else having this problem or is it just my life deciding to make it more difficult again?

Today for your enjoyment: communication, drunk Robin, and soulmate bonding!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

***

Eddie crowed inside when Steve blushed at his comment. “And for record, sweetheart, I could see us tangled in your sheets. Not just the hot sex but everything before and after. All I’m asking is to take it slow.”

Steve gulped. “I’ll go at whatever speed you need, Eds. Honest. You set the pace.” He gave Eddie’s hand a squeeze. “And if you change your mind tomorrow, I’m down for that, too. If you decide we’re better as friends, I’ll be your best friend, okay?”

Eddie smiled. “I think Jeff and Robin might take offense to that.”

Steve laughed. “Nah, nah, Robin is my platonic soulmate, that’s separate from best friend.”

Eddie grinned. “I guess Jeff is more like family then a best friend. All the guys are.”

“There you have it,” Steve said smiling at him, merriment sparkling in his eyes.

They walked hand in hand all the way the way to the Rainbow High Club. They were forced to let go to flash their IDs, but they stayed close to each other, blushing and smiling at each other every time they caught the other’s eyes.

Chrissy’s eyes lit up. “How have I never heard of this place?” she asked, trying to take in as much of the sights as she could all at once. “It’s amazing.”

“Who’re the DDs tonight?” Robin asked, gleefully rubbing her hands together.

Steve, Gareth and Mandy all raise their hands. Eddie pouted.

“Stevie, you’re not drinking tonight?” he whined.

Steve laughed. “I’m working on your tattoo tomorrow, sunshine. I am not working on you hung over.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

*

Now that Eddie and Steve knew where they stood with each other, that last barrier of tension vanished between them. They were laughing more freely. Touching more readily. Just having a blast knowing the potential for more was there waiting for them when they were willing to take that step.

Steve knew where the line in the sand was now and cranked up the charm to eleven. Just being a gentleman.

Eddie ate up the attention like a sunflower in summer following the sun. He felt that last bit of worry just clatter to floor like a chain coming off of a worn gate after so many years being locked away.

Jeff and Mandy ate it up on the dance floor, pulling Gareth with them as they got the shyer man to come out of his shell a little bit.

Brian even managed to get the DJ to play a little metal. Steve sipped on a Coke and laughed as he watched his friends get silly on the dance. He had barely finished his drink when Robin grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor.

He cussed her out but she just kissed his cheek and told him to move his hips for fuck’s sake.

His dancing was terrible, but he let himself join the crowd and sway to the beat.

Eddie said in his ear, “You know in ‘Pride and Prejudice’ being a bad dancer meant you were bad at sex.”

Steve snorted. “Seriously?”

Eddie nodded. “So you know I’ve got to ask...”

“No, trust me when I say I tango better in bed than out of it,” Steve said with a giggle.

“You got receipts for that, big boy?” Eddie asked, dropping his voice low, startling a gasp out of Steve.

His giggle turned into a full on laugh. “You want a list of my very satisfied exes?”

“And their phone number,” Eddie teased back. “If you’re going to win me over Casanova, I’m gonna need references.”

“I think I can handle that,” Steve said in total seriousness.

Eddie pushed him away, a laugh stuttering out of him. “Get off, you menace. Jeez!”

Steve backed up, giving him the space. “You started it.”

“Sorry I forgot you were Mr Charm Everyone’s Panties Off in high school,” Eddie said rolling his eyes.

Steve chuckled. “I’ve still got it, I just don’t date much because I have to run a shop.”

Eddie leaned back in. “And honey, I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve grinned.

*

At the bar a blond man with legs for days and a cocky grin leaned against the edge of the bartop with his elbows. Ink peaked out of the black tank top he was wearing and he had piercings in both ears and a snakebite piercing on his lower lip. He lowered his sunglasses as he watched Eddie and Steve on the dance floor. His bright blue eyes glittered with malice, the grin never leaving his face.

*

Steve got a giggling Robin up the stairs to their apartment and into her bed. He pulled off her jacket and shoes and rolled her under the covers. She made grabby hands at him when he stood back up.

“I’m going to get ready for bed and I’ll be right back,” he told her.

She pouted, but let him go.

Steve made a mad dash to his room, where he threw on his pajama pants and a faded band tee and rushed back to Robin’s room.

“Where you go?” she asked with a frown.

He shook his head and climbed into bed with her. She immediately latched to him like some kind of possessive sea creature. Like a an octopus or a barnacle.

“Why did you surround me with pretty girls?” she wailed. “All the pretty girls all at once.”

Steve snorted. Mandy and Chrissy were not ‘all’ by anyone’s stretch of the imagination.

“Mandy has a boyfriend,” he gently reminded her.

“Did you know she did ballet?” Robin whisper-yelled. “That’s why she has such long legs and great tits.”

“Yes, I was there when she told us,” Steve soothed.

“And Chrissy was athletic, too!” Robin continued. “Cheerleading is scary hot.”

Steve huffed out a small laugh. “What does that even mean?”

“The...” she made a weird motion with her hands, “and the woo...” she threw her arms in the air, “and the ‘yay!’ That’s scary.”

He rolled his eyes. “The tumbling?”

Robin hit his arm over and over. “That, that! Yes. And the hot is the uniform. Have you seen the uniform?” she growled.

Steve laughed. “I was in basketball, yes. You know one of the two sports that has cheerleaders?”

“The skirt is itty-bitty,” she slurred, putting her hands together as close as they would go without touching. “And no sleeves! Bare midriffs too. And and the cute little socks!”

“Can’t forget the cute little socks,” he agreed.

She slapped his arm again, this time harder. “And don’t you dare try to change the subject. I see you.” She pointed at her eyes and then at him, nearly poking his eye out.

“I didn’t change anything,” he muttered, “you started talking and haven’t stopped.”

“I saw you run the bathroom after the concert, gig, thingy...” she frowned. “What is it called the every day one not the tour-y one?”

“Gig,” Steve said gently.

Robin slapped his arm again. “Don’t change the subject!” she hissed. “You got hella horny watching your boy sing!” She threw out her arms and did hit him in the face that time.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I will be better prepared next time we go.”

“You have the hots for Eddie,” she said leaning in close.

But before Steve could answer, Robin was out cold. Her low tolerance for alcohol knocking her out at last. He carefully untangled himself from her embrace knowing that her drunken snoring would be like a buzzsaw in his ear if he slept in her room.

He pulled his shirt off and slipped into his own covers a smile on his face.

*

The next morning he had coffee and the greasiest breakfast sandwich he could find ready for his platonic soulmate when she staggered out of bed and into the kitchen. He handed her a small glass of water and painkillers, which she took under his watchful eye.

“I feel like I should hate for this,” she muttered into her steaming styrofoam cup.

Steve grinned, knowing full well that if laughed, she would straight on murder him and he really didn’t want to go yet.

“Also, don’t think you dodged the talk about you rushing to the bathroom after the show,” she grumped. “Because that was a bit pervy even for you.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he chowed down on his own less greasy sandwich. “I was totally unprepared for how hot he was that close up,” he snarked.

Robin raised an eyebrow. “He did seem particularly out to get you with that little number he was wearing last night.”

“Seriously,” he agreed. “But I’ll know better next time, plan ahead, sit behind the table.”

She giggled.

He propped his head on his hands, elbows planted on their counter. “But enough about that. I want to talk about two lovely blondes making goo-goo eyes at each other all night.”

She pushed his arm causing him to almost smack his face into the counter as he lost the support.

“Shut up,” Robin hissed. “She did not make goo-goo eyes at me all night. I would have noticed.”

Steve laughed. “I noticed you didn’t deny making goo-goo eyes at her.”

She blushed, and took a sip of her coffee to hide her embarrassment. “She’s so pretty and smart and how I am suppose to win her over when she so far out of my league.”

Steve came over and grabbed both of her cheeks in his hands. “Robin Eloise Buckley you are just as beautiful and smart and talented as she is. Just in a different way. I know right now you’re feeling morose because you have a hangover. So trust me in this moment, you are every bit as awesome as she is and if she doesn’t see that then we say?”

“Fuck that?” she whispered.

“I don’t think I heard you,” he said cocking the side of his head so he could tilt his right ear her direction.

“Fuck that,” Robin said with more conviction.

“There you go,” he said and gave her a fierce kiss on the forehead. “Now what I want you to do while I’m gone is watch the ‘Pride & Prejudice’ mini-series with that tub of Ben & Jerry’s I know you’ve been saving and when I’m done I’ll grab Chinese from that favorite shop on the corner, okay?”

She set the coffee down and gave him a fierce hug. “You’re the best soulmate a girl could ask for.”

Steve squeezed her back. “Hard same.”

She laughed. “You are such a dork.”

“Yes, but I’m your dork.”

***

Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

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