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borhap-au · 4 years ago

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Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

Joe Mazzello - Scars.

When your kisses became more intense Joe put the laptop away, stopping the movie. Then he got up from the bed and went to turn the lights on.

“Leave the lights off. Please,” you tried to give him a glimpse of a smile. You knew Joey wanted to make love to you, and you weren’t comfortable with him seeing your body in its full glory. You had some scars you were ashamed of and you didn’t want Joe to notice them.

He sighed quietly. It wasn’t the first time you asked him for a favor like this, in fact, you never let him turn the lights on, and when you were intimate during the day, when the sun was still high up, you used your dark curtains to make the room darker. You said it was to make the atmosphere in the room more intimate, but Joe started to figure out your reasons.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, almost whispering, while sitting on the bed next to you. “What is it? Why do you always insist on having sex in the dark?” he gently pet your leg, wanting you to feel his touch, his closeness, and his affection.

“It’s for the atmosphere,” you used the same excuse again, but this time it just couldn’t work on him.

“I know it’s not. Please tell me the truth. Did I do something wrong?” he looked at you with concern in his eyes. He wanted you to feel just as good as you always made him feel.

“No, of course not. Come on, let’s forget about it. We were in a middle of something,” you put your hand on his bare chest, and then moved it to the side of his body, trying to bring him closer to you. He was shirtless from the foreplay you two already started that was interrupted so that Joe could turn the lights on and have a good look on you that you weren’t planning to allow.

“No, I mean it. Did I hurt you somehow? Did I touch you the wrong way? I always asked you for permission. Did you give me consent without meaning it?” he started to come up with all those different theories or why you acted the way you did towards him.

“No, no, Joey. It’s none of your fault. You were always very good to me,” you reassured him, petting his cheek. You never wanted him to feel bad, as he never did anything to deserve it. He was a very sweet boyfriend and a generous lover, you had hardly anything to complain about when it came to him.

“So don’t I deserve the truth? Why do you hide it from me?” all of his questions came only from the fact he was concerned about you. He wanted to make sure everything that wasn’t alright, would soon become nothing but a memory.

“Because that’s my thing. I try to hide things so you like me better,” you muttered quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“What?” he looked at you in disbelief. “What are you trying to tell me right now?”

“I hide my body from you, so you don’t see it, at least not that well. I just don’t want you to notice… The imperfections and all,” you muttered, still looking down. He got up, and you thought he was leaving, but when you looked up, he turned the lights on.

“No, please,” you immediately hid your body under the quilt. “I’m not ready. Please.”

“Girly… You saw me. My entire body, with all the imperfections. And do you really think I’m so materialistic to care about some minor imperfections? They don’t define your value. It’s your humor, your charisma that make you who you are. Your intelligence. There’s so much more to you than some imperfections that only you notice. Please. I love you for who you are, and not for how you look like, even though for me you’re gorgeous inside out and I feel lucky to be with someone so smart and beautiful. Can I?” he asked, sitting next to you, and gently pulling the quilt. You looked at him for a while and then sighed quietly. You knew you couldn’t hide your body forever. Eventually he had to see it. So you let him put the quilt away.

To your surprise, he didn’t immediately start to look for the things you tried to hide. On the contrary, he smiled to you and focused first on your lips, kissing you passionately. He was so tender that it made you smile to yourself, while prolonging the kiss.

Then he started kissing your jawline and quickly moved his kisses to your neck. You held your breath when he began to take off your shirt, and soon after, your bra. Only then he looked at your chest. There were a few scars here and there. Some of them made on purpose, some of them accidental, and all of them made you persuade yourself that you weren’t perfect, when in Joe’s eyes you were the exact opposite. You were his perfection.

You had most of your scars on your forearms, mostly around the wrists. You always wore long sleeves, bracelets and wristbands, so that nobody could see. But today your hands were naked, and Joe could finally see everything that you’ve been hiding. He began to plant small kisses on your hands. You looked at him a bit surprised.

“You aren’t… Disgusted?” you asked unsure. He smiled to you, petting the side of your body with his thumb.

“Of course not. I would never be disgusted by you. You’re stunning,” he softly kissed your stomach and you immediately pulled in your belly. “No, don’t do that, please. I love your body the way it is. All of it. And I’m really happy I can finally see it in full light.”

He then began to take off your trousers. Legs were also a frequent victim of your razor blade. He moved his hand on your hip, feeling the uneven skin where your scars were.

“Can you promise me you’ll stop?” he spoke softly, not trying to patronize you. It was all out of care for you and honest, deep concern for your mental health.

“I’m already done with this. Those aren’t fresh. I did them all months ago. Definitely before I met you,” you reassured him. “But it doesn’t change the fact I feel awful about them.”

“All the scars are your journey. It’s what you’ve been through in your life. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, I want you to know and feel that I will always love and protect you. But what happened in the past happened, and you shouldn’t feel bad about that. It’s what made you. It’s what brought you to me. I don’t mind your scars, just like you don’t mind all the imperfections on my body. You don’t look at me counting all the things that are bad, you look at me with love. I can see that. So why can’t you see that it’s exactly how I feel about you too? This body, your body, brings me so much joy and satisfaction. Why would I hate anything about it? Your body is you. And I love you,” he started kissing your thighs, especially the places you had scars on. His lips were warm and they made you feel hot inside, because despite the conversation that has been going on, it was still Joe fucking Mazzello kissing your body. And he could’ve had anyone in the world, but yet, he wanted you, and- Exactly. He wanted you.

“And you’re going to stay…? Even though I look like this…?” you muttered quietly, unwilling to stop his kisses.

“You mean gorgeous? Wonderful? Stunning? How do you look like, girly?” he looked at you smiling. “Because you look like all those adjectives to me. I’m not going to leave you because of some imperfections only you see in yourself. I don’t care about them. I care about you, and you’ve always been good and caring towards me. You made me feel loved. You made me feel like the best, most handsome guy in the world, even though I know I’m not one. But that’s the power of your love. And I want to give you exactly the same. I want you to believe me when I say that to me, you are perfect. You’re kind-hearted and funny and you bring light to my life. You’re my sunshine.”

“And you’re my moon and stars,” you smiled and kissed his head, leaning towards him. He smiled too.

“Where you see scars, I see hands that pet my body, make me feel good, give the best handjobs I ever had and trust me, I mean it,” you blushed when you heard that, but you couldn’t hide a smile. “You see scars, but I see stomach that I lay my head on when I felt bad, and you moved your fingers through my hair, calming me down. You see scars, but I see the legs that are not only sexy, but also strong enough to make you walk miles with me on our trips. I see not only the body that turns me on and gives me incredible pleasure, but also the person who this body belongs to. I see kindness, love, friendship. And no, I don’t love you despite the imperfections. I love you because of them. Because every single part of you makes you who you are, and that’s the person I fell in love with. I understand you may feel insecure, but I really hope I’ll be able to help you overcome your problems. Please, don’t ever think again that I’m shallow enough to break up with you because of any of those things you see when you look in the mirror that made you unsure of yourself. I’m sure of you, and I’m sure of us. You should feel like a strong, confident, badass woman that you are. And I want to do anything that’s in my power to make you feel that way,” at the end of the sentence he took your underwear off.

His lips soon wandered around your labia, kissing them, licking, and taking care of your clit with his tongue and lips. While he was doing all of that, his words resonated with you. While your body was filled with enormous pleasure, your mind revised his message. While his hands gently wandered around your body, while he was softly petting your body, your scars, you felt more loved and cared for than ever before. Only then you realized that this situation was exactly the opposite of what you thought would happen. Your fear made you unable to see how much Joe loved you, how much he wanted to make you happy. You felt better about your body now than ever before. Because you saw him treating it with such love and worship, because you realized he doesn’t mind all of the things you managed to convince yourself were too big and hideous for him to see you as sexy. You tried to hide from him, but actually, if he was able to see you long ago, your journey toward self-acceptance would have started long ago. And of course, it was not the end of it, it was just the beginning. But it was the first time you ever felt that maybe you aren’t that bad, that maybe you can be loved exactly for who you are.

Joe was being extra gentle with you. He made sure to kiss and touch every part of your body, so you were aware of it, but not ashamed of it. Of course he was worried about your mental health, because he wanted you to feel happy, and to never again feel the need to scar yourself. But the scars in itself were nothing he couldn’t live with. Actually, he didn’t mind them at all, as long as they were a memory of the past, not fresh signs you’re unwell again. He wanted you to feel good and safe with him.

You didn’t want to be on top, not that night. You already felt exposed, it was definitely enough for one day. But you felt really good when you two did it in the missionary position, with him being on you, protecting you, as if you were under his wings (after all, he was your guardian angel). He pet your cheek and smiled, admiring you. His thrusts were slow and gentle, he was being very careful with you that night, almost as if it was the first time you two ever had sex together. You didn’t mind that at all actually. You felt appreciated, especially when he planted kisses all over your face, making you chuckle. After sex, when he lay down next to you on the bed, he let you hide your body under the quilt. It was enough for one day, he didn’t want you to feel too exposed. But for you it didn’t feel like a necessity anymore, you didn’t immediately cover yourself up like you used to. That night you covered both of you, and simply hugged him. He smiled and kissed your head. That night you went to sleep without clothes on, and you let him pet your body under the quilt. It was just a beginning, but it was a step in the right direction on the journey of self-acceptance.

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queensdivas · 5 years ago

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Wildest Notes Chapter 1

okay so tumblr decided to have a stroke obviously and decided to delete the entire first chapter because. I decided to add the word Chapter 1..so I’m tagging y’all again mostly for my sake. So sorry.

For those of you who have no idea what this is. YOU’RE SO WELCOME AND I THINK YOU’RE GOING TO ENJOY WHAT I’VE GOT COOKING IN MY LITTLE BRAIN FOR OUR MAILMAN GARDNER!

If ya liked to be tagged please let me know.

And I’ll see you guys in whatever I post later!

HERE WE GO!

Chapter 2

Masterlist

And that’ll do! After an entire night of moving and unpacking. I’ve finally made it into my new home! It’s a tiny little hole in this town but I couldn’t be more happy with it. Right outside of the city and quiet enough you don’t hear the traffic. Absolutely perfect!

I walked into the living room where Angus was sound asleep with the sunshine beaming on him. Kind of forgot that he enjoys the sunlight when he’s taking his naps and all the drool that comes from English Mastiff. Hopefully I can put something together for my giant in the backyard so he can lay out for as long as he wants.

Speaking of outside, that's all that's left to do in the house and it’ll be complete. I’ve already got my seeds ordered for the flowers and veggies for the backyard. I have to figure out what I want to do for the front yard. Maybe I can have a line of sunflowers against the fence? Ivy wrapping around the fence? That’ll take months but atleast the weather here is very nice. I’ll have to think of something in order for a much nicer garden for my obsession. Maybe some ferns and some lava rocks? Nah we’re not in the right territory for lava rocks. I already know the backyard is going to have the largest sunflowers I can get my hands on.

I should take a walk around the neighborhood and get some fresh air. And I imagine Angus would just love a walk, even if he’s tapped down on the floor in the middle of the road! But look at him relaxing on the fluffy rug!

“Someone wants to go on a walk doesn’t he?” I asked him as he sat down in front of me waiting for me to clip the leash. Found Mr. Angus under the bridge when I walked from the orphanage to school. He was only a puppy when I first saw him and from that day on I was giving him food from breakfast and left over from lunch. Then he started following me back to the home every night.

Angus and I walked out the front door as I patted the front part of my overalls for where I put my keys. He barked out towards the street as I turned around to see the mailman coming through the gate but stayed back due to the dog.

“He doesn’t bite.” I smiled as I led Angus towards the mailman as he stood there so tall and firm. I don’t even think a gust of wind would blow him over, even hurricane wind wouldn’t knock him down.

Angus began circling the mailman sniffing up and down his legs, down to the tip of his toes. I chuckled as he stuck his nose in the mail bag and sniffed all the letters and tiny packages. The man bounced away from Angus as he dug through the mail to hand me my two envelopes.

“I’m Cora.” I told him as he took a deep breath in.

“Gardner. Now if you’ll excuse me Miss Lister. I have to get back to work and take my lunch.” A 180 turn away from me as he walked out of the fenced front yard back onto the sidewalk. Wait what’s this slip?

“Umm excuse me Gardner.” He stopped as he faced the fence. I walked over towards him with the only thing blocking us was the picket fence. I then showed him the slip as he looked at the slip then back at me.

“It’s a package. That’s a slip.” Obviously but what did I order? Wait did I order anything or is someone mailing back from what I left at the old house? There’s a lot of things this could be. He was about to walk away as I was trying to finish this conversation without him running off.

“Can I assume that you’re bringing it by tomorrow?” He stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards me.

“Section 4.7 of the resident manual stipulates packages of that size cannot be left without the recipient's signature.” Didn’t realize it was such a big package goodness. What on earth could I have left at the house!?

“I’ll be in the back working on some hoeing so just leave it on the corner of the porch. C’mon Angus!” I opened the gate, waving bye to Gardner.

“Thanks Gardner!” I yelled as we began our walk.

Angus and I watched him walk down the street stopping into each of the house's mailboxes. Probably should go the opposite way so it doesn’t look like I’m stalking him.

“C’mon Angus.” I told him as I walked out of the gate down towards the opposite way Gardner was going. Glad to know the first I met was a very tight end mailman. I mean he was a little cute but I should get going.

Angus was absolutely loving all the new smells and environment while walking around the corner onto the new sidewalk. I was humming a quiet song to myself as I heard a very loud whistle coming from the house I was passing. A foam rocket landed right in front of Angus and I for him to start sniffing it. An old woman came stumbling out of the house with a flask in her hand.

“Ah damn it. Too much gas.” She yelled as I picked up her foam rocket as she walked towards me.

“You moved into the house with the yellow door, yes?” You mean my absolutely favorite door in the world? That pretty yellow color that I love? Yes.

“Yes mam.”

“No one tells me yes mam, makes me feel old. Trudy.” She made it infront of me as I handed her the foam rocket. I glanced over to her blue and purple house to see her flowers on the ground were dying.

“Cora. Nice to meet you.” I told her as she looked down to Angus.

“And who is this?” She reached down as Angus began sniffing her fingers and arm.

“Angus.”

“We’ll he’s a heartbreaker. Glad you moved into the house, that old woman who used to own that place was crazy. She once walked out of the house naked like a jaybird.” She took a drink as I nodded along. Glad to know one of my new friends in the neighborhood is an old lady wearing a super long floral kimono.

“I’ll let you back on your walk. Hey if you need anything please stop by whenever ya feel like. I could use a young drinking buddy myself. I make a mean long island iced tea.” Don’t really like alcohol on most days. Maybe a glass of wine at dinner or a beer when I’m grilling.

“I’ll get back to you on that Trudy. Lovely to meet you.” I began walking away as she kept looking at me till she went back inside. So I got mad science living a street or two away and a mailman who's tighter than a screw.

I continued along the sidewalk as Angus was walking a little faster since he was trying to see the entire neighborhood. I stumbled upon a patch of trees as Angus was just dying to start running around in there. Eh might as well. Don’t need to go back home for a few more hours and it’ll take me about an hour to get ready for work. I bent down to unlatch the leash from his collar as he went sprinting off. Don’t worry he’ll come back because he's going to have a nice chicken dinner before work. I began walking on the trail as I kept an eye on Angus as he was climbing on top of some fallen trees.

It’s weird to think a few months ago I was job hunting and trying to find a place to live and now my life is slowly coming together. I need to write to my orphanage mother and let her know that I finally made it in the world. We were worried when I turned sixteen that no one was going to adopt me and by eighteen they kind of just threw you out onto the street. But now look at me! In a jazz band at night and selling my own produce at markets. Just exactly what I wanted in my life.

We reached the opening onto a large tall field that was circled by the entire patch of forest. There was no trail that led into the field but one wrapping around it. A few park benches were placed along the trail as I began going down the path on the left. Angus ran running into the field as he began hopping around in the tall grass.

He barked each time he jumped out of the field till something caught his attention as he began smelling the air. He began trotting around the field as he began picking up the pace till we came across someone on the bench eating. Oh no he must have peanut butter! It’s Angus’ weakness!

By the time I was about to tell him no he was already sitting in front of him with his tail moving across the grass. Crap crap crap! I ran up to notice it was Gardner just trying to enjoy his lunch in peace I’m assuming. But I stopped as Gardner ripped off a piece of his crust then handed it to Angus. He laid down in front of him and quickly ate it.

“I’m so sorry about that.” I told him as I stood in front of him and attached the leash to Angus.

“It’s fine.” Another short answer as he took a bite out of his sandwich.

“Mind if I sit with you for a minute?” I asked him as he looked over his bag to then move it onto the ground next to him. I sat down on the other edge of the bench as I was watching Angus running back into the field.

“I promise I’m not stalking you or anything.” I blurted out as he kept his focus on the field. It was an awkward silence for a few seconds as I tried to think of something to say in order to remove this awkwardness.

“Why this little town?” He asked as I looked over and looked over at me.

“I miss the little town feeling. I grew up in Eureka California and I kind of missed that town kind of feeling. Plus my job is here now and wouldn’t trade it for anything.” I nodded as Angus sat in front of me as I scratched his head.

“What do you do?” Feels like I’m in an interview as he’s silently judging me.

“During the day when I’m not sleeping I’m growing vegetables and herbs for any local markets. And at night I’m a jazz pianist.” He nodded as he looked over at him. I know it’s not a lot of money in my life but it makes me extremely happy.

“You don’t like to talk do you?” I blurted out as he turned his head towards me.

“No I do.” He defended as I nodded. So he likes to talk, but just doesn’t want to talk to strangers. Understandable. I’m a complete stranger who accidentally found him at the park during his lunch.

“So are those hats comfy?” I asked him as he looked up at his white hat.

“They’re good for the summer. Keeps the air flowing through my head and the sun from burning my neck.” I looked at it then chuckled at myself.

“How’s the mail business going then?”

“Fresh air, predictable, solid retirement fund.”

“Already sounds like a better life than what I’m doing.” I could sense he wanted to be left alone. I imagine this is very weird for some stranger to be sitting here with him. I should get going anyhow.

“Sorry I’ll leave you alone. Listen if you ever get out or just bored at home. Come to Club Eclipse on 2nd. Thanks for letting me sit with you Gardner.” I grabbed Angus leash as I began to speed walking down the trail as my body became a little cold. How stupid was that? Honestly that was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done in my entire life.

“Thank you Miss Lister.” He blurted as I stopped dead in my tracks then turned around towards him.

“Cora please. And for what?”

“This was….different.” He grabbed his bag and marched away.

What a..what an interesting man. I hope to see him tomorrow while he delivers my package. Which I’m still trying to remember what exactly it was I ordered. He’s..kind of cute with his quirkiness.

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#gardner langway #Gardner #gardner x reader #Gardner Langway x reader #Gardner Langway Fic #Dear Sidewalk #Dear Sidewalk x reader #dear sidewalk fan fic #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello x reader

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writeyourownlifestory · 5 years ago

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Of Mice and Men {Mouse x Reader}

Summary: You meet a handsome guy in a bar and find that being the girlfriend of someone on a special forces team is a lot more complicated than expected.

Warnings: Sexual activity. Domestic fluff. Ominous ending.

Word Count: 10,051

A/N: Wrote this just to say I did. I saw a lot of love was being given to Gardner, and Pat and thought you know who could use some attention? Adorable special forces baby boy Mouse.

I hope you enjoy all of this. I put my whole heart and soul into it even though Reader isn’t my forte. Fair warning, if you haven’t seen G.I Joe: Retaliation (spoiler warning), things don’t end well for the Screaming Eagles, so be warned, a bit of heartbreak in this one.

Read the following: AO3, Wattpad, or under the cut.

You met at a bar, which in itself is pretty surprising because bars aren't your scene. Maybe you drink, maybe you don't. It all depends on the moment and your emotions. You're there to meet up with some friends or maybe coworkers. You don't remember. Everything before him is a bit of a blur, to be completely honest.

He was with some buddies of his, standing off in the corner playing some game. They were rowdy and loud, which was to be expected. The bar isn't the type of place where you'd sit down quietly and discuss things. You go to laugh, and drink and have a good time. Sometimes the place would have some guy in the corner with a guitar, singing along to old songs, though tonight they stuck with the jukebox and radio.

You were waiting for your drink, leaning against the bar as you listened to some old country song. It was the type of song that everybody knew even if you didn't actively listen to it. You weren't singing along because you didn't sing in public, but you hummed to the chorus when your drink finally came.

You thanked the bartender, wrapping your hand around your glass though just as you turned to go back to your table, it was knocked out of your hand by a passing bar-goer. He stumbled into you, staggering back at the glass crashed to the ground. Liquor, ice, and glass scattered all along the floor.

There was a moment of silence that was filled with shock and annoyances you looked up to face the man who slammed into your arm. He looked just as surprised as you were, with a tad bit of remorse added to it.

"Christ. I am so sorry." He muttered, going back and forth between looking between you and the mess on the floor.

"It's all right," You say, even though it wasn't.

"I wasn't looking where I was going." He mentions even though it was obvious. "I'll get you a new one."

You shake your head because you don't want to be a bother, but the guy is already heading to the bar. He slaps his hand onto it repeatedly to get the attention of the bartender and then looks back at you. You rattle off your drink of choice, choosing to just let the guy buy you another one.

You watch as a worker cleans up your mess and apologize to them even if it wasn't your fault. You don't like to cause trouble for anybody, though they wave you off like it's no big deal. And it wasn't. No use in crying over spilled alcohol, right?

You turn your head back to watch the bartender make your drink, checking to make sure nothing was slipped inside of it. The dark world we live in, but what can you do?

The guy smiles triumphantly as he holds up your drink, giving a dramatic display as he offers it to you. "My lady,"

"You're sweet," You speak, taking the glass up from his large hands, bringing it to your lips for a slow sip. It's sweet and bitter all at the same time.

You stand there, teetering between the bar and the tables until the shout of your name gathers your attention. You look back, suddenly remembering who you were with. You thank him once more, turning on your heel so you could return to your table.

You sit down and try to enjoy the night, chattering with your small group of people who arrived for the small hangout. Now and then you catch the guy glancing your way. You can contently say he doesn't spend the night staring at you as he is busy with his group of friends, but your eyes lock a time or two.

You didn't think anything of it, especially as the bar began to fill up and the sound of the music playing over the radio and the endless conversation is too just for you. You excuse yourself to use the restroom, shuffling through the crowd. There were other bars in your area, but you guessed this one had the most atmosphere. Or maybe it was close and people were lazy. Who knew.

There was a small line building and you step onto it without a second through. You're looking at your phone, trying to keep busy when a voice catches your attention.

"We meet again," The guy in front of you mentions.

For a moment you thought it was a joke. Meeting the guy from before on the line for the bathroom of all things. It seemed a little too cliche, but you try not to overthink it.

"There's only one bathroom. And I've been there for about . . . eight minutes." He confessed, shifting his hand as he took his guesstimate. "I think some guy is getting lucky in there."

"Seriously?" You mutter, raising your brows in surprise.

You understood the kink of having sex in a public place. You could never imagine doing it yourself, but who were you to judge those brave enough to take the chance.

You both stand there, not sure what to do. Sure, he had the option of heading to the alleyway and pissing by the dumpster, but you weren't lucky enough to be able to aim. So you remain online, hoping that the bastard inside the room was enjoying himself.

"Having fun?" The mystery man asked, shifting to lean back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest.

You shrug. You're not having a bad time, even if this isn't your scene. You can be social or you could be unsocial. You could bounce off the walls or sit quietly in your room. All depends on the situation. Tonight, you're enjoying yourself though of course there were other things you'd love to do. Other things you could be doing if you weren't in this cramped bar, waiting online to pee.

"Are you?" You asked, trying to get a good look at him.

The bar was dim though his hazel eyes shined well enough. He's cute enough, you think. Boyish smile with dimples. The regular looking guy with a nice build and strong arms.

He bobs his head, proceeding to explain that he was meeting up with a couple of guys from work. He mentions that he hasn't seen them in a while, as they were all stationed in other places. You wondered what he meant, but didn't question it. You just stand there and listen, shifting your feet as you silently thanked yourself for choosing comfortable shoes.

When the door to the bathroom opens, you watch as a guy and girl slip out of the room together. They were blissfully happy and there is a simmering in your stomach when you catch a glance of their linked hands and wrinkled clothing.

Rather than stepping inside, the guy holds the door open, gesturing for you to go in. You shake your head, reminding him that he waited a lot longer than you had, but he refuses. "I'm special forces. I can hold it, trust me."

You take the hint and shuffle inside, trying to best to be quick so the poor guy doesn't have to suffer any longer. You think about what he said, about special forces and being stationed and realize he's military based. You don't know what to do with this information and carry on with what you were doing.

You exit a moment later, shaking your hands because you hate those stupid air dryers. They never work right anyhow.

The guy is nowhere to be seen and you wonder if he decided to piss out in the alleyway after all. You look around curiously, though it's too crowded to see anyone. You shuffle back to your table and remain for another hour, laughing and commenting about whatever subject comes up.

You get a Lyft home because you've been drinking and you don't think about the special forces guy until you're settling in for the night. It's a silly cliche to meet a cute guy at the bar but then again, cliches exist for a reason. You don't allow yourself to wonder if you'd ever see him again, because you have very little intentions of going back to the bar any time soon.

Except you do go back, against your better judgment. It's busy again and you and your associates arrive later than usual. There is no table to sit at, so you're standing in the corner. Someone bought you a drink, which is nice because you don't have much cash on you, but it tastes strong and you don't have the stomach for strong alcohol.

The music isn't that good and you last about an hour before finally making an excuse to leave. You ramble off some bullshit that you don't will be taken seriously because honestly, what does it matter if you stay or go. You can be a good company but you surely won't be pissed on this night. You head out the front, standing off to the side as you go to order another ride home.

"Heading out already?" You hear over your shoulder and you turn to see the special forces guy. You didn't expect to see him, even if you did take a casual look around when you first entered.

A few other men make their way into the bar and you guess that is his selected crew. You rattle off the same excuse as you had to your friends/coworkers/whoever they are at this point, though he doesn't buy it the way they did.

"Shame. Was hoping I could buy you another drink." He admitted, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"I already had one." You confess, thinking about to the bitter-tasting bottle that you held for the entirety of your stay.

"I could buy you something else." He offers slightly, gesturing to the pizza place across the street.

It was small and dingy, but the place pizza places always are. Places that have to promote themselves as a family-friendly restaurant isn't going to give you good tasting pizza. Maybe delicious garlic knots or pesto ravioli, but if you wanted good pizza, you have to go to a place smaller than a New York City apartment.

You ate earlier, but who could say no to free food, so you follow him across the way, discussing different toppings and such. You aren't a picky eater, not really. Sometimes you prefer one thing over another, but in the end, you're just happy for the food. You order your pie, which is scattered with all different things and sit down at a small table you both have to squeeze into.

You're sucking on the straw of your fountain drink when the pizza is placed beside you and you both dig in. He is halfway through his slice when he speaks up, swallowing down hard when a certain realization hits him.

"I don't know your name."

You speak it softly, taking a bite of your slice after the name leaves your lips.

"Morris." He admits. "Friends call me Mouse."

You cock your head, trying to understand why. He isn't exactly small, so it wouldn't be a proper comparison nor is he large enough to make the nickname ironic. You just bob your head, deciding that Morris is good enough for you.

You make idle chit-chat and learn more about each other. You tell him what you do for a living and he talks about his military life. The pizzeria lightening is better than the bar, allowing you to get a good look at him now. He's cute. Boyish and handsome. You snort as he takes a large bite, nearly taking the entire slice, crust included into his mouth. You both laugh it off as he chews, luckily not choking on his little antic.

You wonder if any of the others will leave the bar and come here, seeing you. Would they question you, see if you ditched them for a guy? Would they be right?

No one else comes in after that, so it's just the two of you lost in your little world. You finish your pizza and drinks but remain sitting and talking until the place is closing up and you get kicked out.

"Can I give you a ride home?" He asked, holding his keys out.

You thought about saying no and thanking him for the pizza, but the idea of talking to him for a little while longer was too tempting. You follow him to his truck, hoping in easily enough. You give him the address but he doesn't put it into a GSP or anything.

"Are you from around here?" You ask casually, wondering if you've lived in the same area and never knew about it.

"I'm from all over." He tells you as you head out onto the road. He takes it slow, keeping the conversation up as you go. You don't live far, but you don't mind the gentle motion.

When he finally pulls up to your place, you both pause. You thank him for the company and the food and he does the same. You see a small flush across his cheeks and he's looking between the steering wheel and yourself until he finally breaks.

"Can I call you sometime? The text you?"

You don't give your number out often, mostly because nobody asks for it. You also don't date that much because of reasons X/Y/Z. Still, you give him the number anyway, passing him your phone so he could put his number in.

When you get it back, you thank him again for the night, hopping out of the truck and heading into your place. Your phone buzzes as you walk through the door and you see a message from "M" with a mouse emoji. The message is simple enough, asking if you were free tomorrow.

Another message comes in, asking if it's too soon to ask. You chuckle softly, thinking about what you had planned for the following day. You worked but were lucky enough to get out at a decent time.

You offer it up to him and Morris jumps, swearing to pick you up an hour after you get out so you both had time to get ready. There are butterflies in your stomach for the rest of the night and even during the day. You don't text him first because you don't want to come off as too eager.

You knew it was silly. That it was all stereotypical bullshit. If you were excited you were allowed to be. No one should make you feel bad for wanting to see someone or do something. Morris does text you however, checking in to see how you're doing and asking if there was anything specific you wanted to do.

You didn't know if it was a date or a hangout but so long as you weren't taken back to that bar, you didn't care. He promised to plan the whole thing and you trusted his judgment, putting your phone away so you could get some work done.

When you get home, get ready. You shower, letting your hair dry as you pick out your outfit. You try to keep it casual, but you want to look cute. You put something together, deciding to be a bit outrageous and choose heels this time. You apply your makeup and sit at the kitchen table, waiting patiently for him to arrive.

The butterflies in your stomach remain as the familiar truck pulls up and just as you go to open the door, he hops out, a small bouquet in hand and smiling bashfully. "I was just about to knock." He admits shyly.

"Bit old fashioned, don't you think?"

You had never gone on a date before where the guy arrived on your doorstep to knock and greet you. This wasn't the fifties nor a small town. Usually, it was a text saying they had arrived or more than usual, you'd agree to meet at a chosen location.

"Well, I can be pretty old fashioned sometimes." He confessed, holding the flowers out for you to take.

The bouquet is small but lovely. You've never been given flowers by a guy before. Family sure, but not a date. You're beginning to realize that this is, in fact, date and the butterflies just get worse, but you more solid few it, following him off to his truck.

He's rattling on about his plans for you both and you can see that he is a bit nervous too. It helps you realize, though you have to laugh silently. Why would he be nervous? You were nice to look at and good company, but nothing to get nervous about. He was sweet and nice, something very hard to find, so it was normal for you to get a bit nervous.

You go for dinner at a place in town that isn't a chain restaurant or fast food place. He pulls in your chair and asks you about work the moment you're sitting down, showing off how attentive and caring he could be. It throws you for a loop, but you don't question it. Instead, you choose to enjoy it, asking him the same questions as you get to know one another better.

He has been in the military nearly his whole life. He was a specialist and while he didn't want to go into detail, he made it very clear that he was very good at his job.

"Have you ever killed someone?" You ask boldly, halfway through your meal.

He is silent for a moment, outweighing his options. "Only the bad guys."

"How do you know who is good and who is bad?" You question, leaning in close. "I mean, technically, from their side, you're bad and they're good. Who is right and who is wrong?"

You didn't know what reaction you'd get. He could be angry for you questioning his line of work or call you stupid for calling someone against the military anything other than the villain. Instead, he laughed it off, leaning back in his seat with a laugh. "Very philosophical of you."

You're both silents for a moment and while there is a gentleness to his face and voice the things he is saying are very serious. "I guess I just want the world to be a better place to live. And maybe the things I do care a little unethical but I have to believe I'm succeeding in one way or another."

"Like a modern-day superhero." You say and it makes his smile widen just slightly.

"Maybe." He whispered, turning his attention back onto his meal.

You spent the rest of your dinner eating and chatting about this or that, little things that you wouldn't discuss with a stranger because you know they wouldn't care. But Morris isn't a stranger at this point. When the bill comes he pays before you can even grab it.

"You can get it next time." He promises, placing the money down and standing from his chair.

The possibility of another date is already hanging in the air and it leaves you in awe as you follow him out of the place. The weather is nice so you walk for a bit, finding that talking to him was oh so very easy.

You decide to grab some ice cream and you make a very big deal over the fact that you're paying for it. He just laughs it off and gets his double scoop, following you around the town as the warm air whirls around you both.

You continue to walk and talk before going into his truck and driving around for a bit. The conversation never dulls though you know it has to come to an end as the hours continue to tick on. He pulls up in front of your place and you're both smiling brightly.

He walks you to your door, like the gentleman he is and you thank him for a lovely time, finding that you can't remember such a great night with any other former suitor. He says the same, squeezing your hand gently. You stand there for a moment and think that he will kiss you but instead he lets you go and makes his way back to his truck.

You go into your home, finding that he has already texted you, leaving you with a promise that the next date will be even better. You go to bed wondering when the hell you entered a hallmark movie.

Or maybe a lifetime movie as hallmark is always a bit too fluffy and sweet while lifetime offers a bit of drama, which is exactly what comes your way. You go on your second date, which is even better than your first.

You argue over who pays since you paid for the ice cream and Morris fights that that didn't count as the second date. You try to do what he did and persuade him to hang on until the next date when he could go back to flashing his cash but the persistence doesn't work. He becomes quite suddenly and you wonder if you had done something wrong.

"Are you okay?" You asked after stepping out of the restaurant.

Morris looks whiplashed, lost in thought that you had ripped him from. His bright smile is back and he plays it off like it was nothing.

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's go skip some stones." Taking your hand, Morris leads you down to the water. He picks up some rocks and begins tossing them and you watch as they skip across the surface.

He shows you how it's done and when it's your turn the rock sinks almost automatically. He tries to show you again and you have to admit the second time is a tad bit better but it's still a pathetic attempt.

You try a few more times, stopping only when you hear him say your name.

"I'm heading out tomorrow," he admits to you quietly. "When I come back, will you go out with me again?"

You paused, not realizing that had ever been an option. Normally people went on one date and then another and then another. You had teased him about your next date but his response threw you for a loop and for a small moment you wondered if he didn't want another. Now he was giving you puppy dog eyes like you were bound to say no.

"When are you coming back?"

He shrugged, stepping closer. "Hard to tell. But will you?" He smiled then, full of boyish charm. "Gotta give me something to come back to."

You rolled your eyes and turned, tossing the rock as it sunk into the water. "Someone has to teach me this shit," you told him, smiling on your own as laughter erupted from him.

It was a week later when you heard back from Morris. You didn't worry about it because this was his job and you knew he was far across the sea, saving the day and everything in between.

You had just showered and was sitting in your bed, being lazy and comfortable when your phone began to ring. You looked it over, seeing it was Morris calling you and you slid your finger across the screen to answer it.

"Evening beautiful,"

"You made it out alive," You mused, laying back in your bed, your towel wrapped head nestled against the pillows.

"Always do. I didn't disturb you did I?"

You look over at the clock, checking the time. "It's barely nine."

"Not too late for a date then is it?"

You do a double-take, surprised by his question. "What are we gonna do at nine pm on a weeknight?"

"Are you doubting me, Y/N?" He laughs but softens suddenly. "We can wait until tomorrow. Or any other day of the week. I just got back and wanted to see you."

He sounded so sweet, so sincere. You had been away from one another for a week with no contact at all. She guessed he couldn't bring his phone on missions of whatever they called them, but he was back now and he wanted to see you.

So you agree. You dress and attempt to apply on makeup but he's over before you finish, knocking on the door. You hang out at your place, on your couch. He brought over food and you just eat together, talking and catching up.

"I don't know what you can tell me," you mutter, wanting to hear whatever he can say.

"Nothing special. Saved the day and all. Job well done for now."

"When do you have to leave again?"

Morris shrugs, toying with his food. "All depends. My team is useful so we get called on a lot. It can be a pain in the ass but no reason to complain about being too good at something."

"So you just...wait for the call?"

Morris leaned his head back against the couch, offering a frown. "It's not ideal. But I get paid to live nicely enough. I get to take out a pretty girl whenever she lets me."

"You say that like I'm not a cheap date."

"No lady is cheap and that's fine by me. You deserve to be pampered; even if it's just taken out at nine-thirty at night."

You laugh because even if it's cheesy, it's still one of the sweetest things you've ever heard. You carry on eating, moving to throw it all in the garbage once you're both finished. Morris follows you, staying close and watching as you work around your kitchen.

"You know. There's another reason I'm glad I came back." He mentions, taking the trash bag from you so you can refill the bin with another one.

"And what's that?"

"Well, you know what they say about the third date,"

You look over your shoulder then, raising a pointed brow at him. "Do I?" You asked. "Refresh my memory."

"The third date is when you get the first kiss. The first date is too soon and the second date is when you're testing the waters. But on the third date?" Morris shook his head, taking away as he stepped closer to you. "That's when you know it's for real. That you like this person and want more."

You find yourself speechless. Such an old fashioned theory that in reality should be laughable and yet you aren't chuckling, you aren't smiling. Morris was a grown man expressing how much he wanted to see you, how much he wanted to kiss you. Grown men didn't do things like that.

Or maybe they do and you've just never dated a grown man before. Just silly boys who wanted their dicks touched and someone pretty in their bed.

Morris moves in closer, making his way into your personal space and backing you up against the kitchen counter. He's close enough that his breath is on your face. It's warm and welcoming.

"Do you want more with me?" He asked quietly, those hazel eyes shimmering under the lights of your kitchen.

You've wanted a lot of things in your life. Things you've been lucky enough to have and things that seemed more like a dream, completely unreachable. Morris didn't seem like one of those things. He was here in front of you, offering you the world and all you had to do was take it.

And so you did.

You stepped forward, deciding to meet him halfway for the kids he had been waiting for. You kissed him slowly, just testing the waters out though it was obvious Morris had other plans.

He swoops you up, wrapping those strong arms around your frame as he deepens the kiss. It's more intense suddenly and you finally begin to realize just how much he wanted this. How much he wanted you. You found yourself lost in thoughts of him thinking of you while he was on his mission, one that was dangerous and lengthy.

You wondered if Morris spent his time thinking about you the way you had thought about him. If he truly did want more than just physical contact and he spent those nights in wherever he happened to be dreaming about seeing you again.

You've never thought so highly of yourself before. You never thought of yourself as someone worth thinking about. You're a good person but never could you imagine someone kissing you, wanting to see you the moment they got back home. The idea alone seemed so far out of reach but here he was. This amazing man who was holding you so close to him, sucking on your bottom lip as if you keep your lips attached for as long as possible until finally releasing you.

"Yeah." He whispers finally, the feeling of his warm breath tickles your cheeks. "Definitely worth the wait."

And just like that, with very little effort, you're completely smitten.

You get used to having a guy around. To having a boyfriend. It's nice at first, having someone to talk to aside from coworkers and friends. It's nice having someone to laugh with and kiss. It's also very nice to have someone always around, specifically someone who happens to be very useful and also very nice to look at especially when in uniform. You had never thought to see a guy in camo or more so, military dresses, would you attractive but Morris opened a lot of doors for you. Both literal and figuratively.

None of it is easy. How could it be? Regular relationships are hard but being involved with someone in special forces just flat out sucks. His schedule is wonky and sometimes he is gone for long periods. He isn't a doctor who is always on call and has to be pulled away in the middle of the night but he does get short notice sometimes.

The worst had been one night while you were at his place. You had gone on a mini-golf date and retired back to his apartment after destroying his ass. Morris is amusingly competitive and was playfully bitter over losing to you but was more than happy to have you make up for it with some adult-friendly fun.

You had yet to sleep with each other through this particular night seemed to be just right. He put some movie on while you sat in the couch and you both watched t for about three minutes before the arm that laid across your shoulder began moving downwards. You went from sitting beside him to straddling his lap with his hands on your hips holding you in place.

Foreplay wasn't your forte but it didn't take a genius to turn a guy on. Some heavy petting and tongue action seemed to be just the trick and as you found his hand slowly creeping up under your shirt, his door was suddenly open.

He moved swiftly, flipping you into the couch to block you from the intruder. You were scared out of your wits because of the sudden realization that someone very well could want him dead took over and for a few seconds, you just kept your eyes closed and clung to him, fearing the worst.

Morris realizes suddenly though he doesn't move automatically. "How the fuck did you my get in here?"

"You think we can't pick a few locks? We're well trained, Mouse." A man responds.

"This is illegal," Morris argues.

A second voice comes over this time a woman's. "You weren't answering your phone."

"Well, I'm sort of busy at the moment."

Suddenly the man comes into view and smiles. "Mouse has a little friend over." He acknowledging. "Hello, friend."

You open your mouth, possibly to say hello though nothing comes out. Morris shifts then, moving off you and going to stand in front of the man to block his view. "What is it you need so badly."

"Duke needs the information you gathered the other day." The woman explained from across the door.

"And this really couldn't wait?"

"What do you think?"

Morris clenches his jaw, turning his head to look back to you. With a heavy sigh, he leaves the room and retreats off to another part of the apartment. You sit up slightly, looking between the two. You don't know if they look like special forces because really, what does special forces look like outside of their uniform? If Morris hadn't told you that he was military then you wouldn't have ever guessed.

Nobody says anything to you. The woman is checking her phone while the guy is just smiling bashfully. When Morris returns he hands something to the man. "That's it. Tell Duke that he can come himself next time if it's so important."

"Tell him yourself," the man replied, frowning as the woman walked in and scooped up the file of information.

"We head out tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred." The woman responded, already heading out of the place.

Morris let out an audible groan. "Of course we do."

"She's cute, Mouse. Do you call her kitty?" The man questioned, chuckling to himself as he left.

Morris sighed again, going to relock the door after the departure of the others. He apologies to you, explaining who they are and whatnot but you brush it off. He doesn't have to explain anything to you. His job is big and important and most important very private. Whatever information they needed was very dire so who are you to fuss about it.

You stand to leave, searching the door for your shoes when Morris takes your hand. "Stay," he requests gently. You remind him that he has to leave tomorrow at six. Probably even before that, but he doesn't budge. "I'll leave you the key. You can come and go as you please until I come back."

The passion from before is gone so you know there won't be any sex tonight but it doesn't bother you much. You agree to stay because he wants you to and you follow him to his room for the night. Like his apartment his bedroom is pretty bland, not filled with much. You had mentioned it prior that he should take his place feel more like a home by adding a few things though Morris admitted he didn't see the point.

Before you, he had lived so sparingly. He went from mission to mission, more or less living for his job and nothing more. He had gotten quite cryptic one night and admitted that the lack of belongings made it easier for those who had to carry on for him after he passes. It was a cold slap in the face that his career of choice could very well end rather badly.

Not wanting to think about that now you dressed down for the night, thanking Morris when he passed you one of his shirts to sleep in. You couldn't remember the last time you shared a bed with someone or if you ever did. Without a word, Morris pulled you into his arms. He didn't come off as someone who enjoyed snuggling or spooning but he was full of surprises you had quickly found.

You slept peacefully in his arms, feeling utterly and completely safe in the warmth that was just him. When you woke you were alone in his bed, the pathetic chill of Morris' absence sent a shiver down your spine and you stayed in his bed for as long as possible before finally leaving.

You don't go back to his apartment right away. It feels strange without him there but a sudden idea sparks you to return. You bring a few things, some from your own home while others were purchased at stores in town. Little things to make his place feel more personal. Paintings and signs from his favorite sports team. A poster from a movie he had raves about that you framed and placed in the middle of the movie.

You didn't take many pictures together though the ones that you gave, yo upturn out and out in picture frames. It's so domestic you could cry and when Morris finally returns, he almost does the same. Gone were his blank walls and slightly bleak outlook.

It was almost a week when you saw him again, once again late into the night. Very late. The clock showed a single digit for the time and when you woke at the sound of the frantic knocking on the door you realized it was closer to sunrise than sunset.

Morris was at the door, standing in the rain looking like a drowned rat. Or maybe drowned a mouse.,you didn't understand why he was there. He could have waited until the morning or even the afternoon. Who knows where he had been or if he had even gotten any sleep.

You opened your mouth to speak, to question him and get him out of the rain but he cut you off swiftly.

"Did you put all that stuff in my place?"

You paused, unsure of how to respond. The answer was obvious. You brought the pictures and posters and knick-knacks. You wanted to take his place seem more comfortable and thought it would be a nice gesture. You never imagined he would be upset about it.

"The frames and everything else."

"Yes." You replied, forcing the words out from behind your teeth.

You opened your mouth to speak again, to apologize and promise that you would get rid of everything before he knew it but you never got to say a word. Morris was on your in seconds, kissing you deeply and holding you close despite his sopping wet clothing.

You fell into the kiss easily because how could you not? You missed him and he missed you, and even though it was ridiculously late you weren't going to push him away any time soon. He took the silent memo to continue and decided that enough was enough and lifted you into his arms.

Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was. Sometimes he would wear clothes that would make him look so average, so normal and then you'd get a reminder just like now that shows just how much effort he puts into his body for health and fitness.

He walked you to your room and plopped you down onto the bed. You watched with bright eyes as he peeled away from his wet clothing. You've seen him shirtless before, only for a few moments, but now was so much different. Now you were up close and personal with this beautiful creature and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch.

Morris let you because he wanted it too. It was very clear that you both wanted this, right here, right now. It wasn't ideal and it wasn't planned out, but neither of you could care. He used those deft fingers that pulled triggers on guns and missiles to open you up, his sticky-sweet voice whispering in your ear.

He said all the most wonderful things, bringing you closer to the edge. You had never gotten off on someone else's fingers before. Your own perhaps, late into the night when you were lonely and hungry for affection and a personal touch. You would lay back in your bed and watch a movie or listen to music or watch porn or maybe even listen to porn. Whatever the moment called for. Maybe you thought of someone specific or maybe you called out your name. Whatever did the job.

Now the only name you were crying out was his. Morris. Mouse. Morris L. Sanderson.

Such an interesting name. A lovely name. One that you wanted to hear and say again and again and again.

He muffles your whimpers with his mouth, lingering just long enough to remove the rest of his clothing. You expect him to dive right on in, using your juices as lubrication, but he never does. Instead, he wraps his hand around his cock, tugging and pulling on it as he swore and grunted, finishing off moments later.

You were both left panting, sticky and covered in a mixture of your seed. Morris moved to lay beside you, kissing you with a strange amount of passion for someone who just ejaculated all over your sheets.

You eventually remove those sheets and your sweat covered clothes. You snuggle up together on your bare mattress, those strong arms wrapped around you ever so tightly.

He thanks you for adding the things to his apartment, for trying to make it more comfortable.

"I wanted it to feel more like home." You confess, nuzzling against his chest.

You knew it was cheesy and disgustingly romantic, but you wanted to make him happy. To make his apartment somewhere he comfortable and wanted to return to after being away for who knows how long.

Morris breathes in your scent, his cheek resting against the top of your head. "It does. Well, almost."

You tilt your head, your own eyes locking on those shining hazel marbles. "Almost?" You mimic, wondering what it was you could have forgotten to add. Perhaps a few plants that he could water or maybe toss in a pet. Some fish or a golden retriever. "What's missing?"

Morris doesn't answer with words, because he doesn't have to. He tilts his head down and kisses you. Slow, with meaning, making it quite obvious that the thing that was missing from his apparent home is this. You and him, laying like this. In a bed after the bliss.

You knew it was cliche and silly. Something you normally would have chuckled just thinking of. But sometimes home isn't an apartment with photographs or house plants. Sometimes its a person. Sometimes it's you.

Things weren't rainbows and unicorns after that. Relationships went up and down and while sometimes it felt like the honeymoon stage would never, ever end while other times you felt like you had the whole universe against you.

You moved in together a few months after being together, which in theory was maybe a bit too quickly, but there was always that underlining fear that there may be no tomorrow. That though Morris promised to come back time and time again, there was always a possibility that he just wouldn't. You knew that was possible for any person.

Whether they be special forces or work at a 9-5 office job. You never know when it's your time, so why to bother waiting around for things to happen when you can just make them happen.

You made his formally lonely and blank apartment into a home. A place that you filled with plants that you watered and walls with even more pictures than before. You had discussed getting a pet, perhaps dog or cat or something crazy all together. One night you had talked about having children though Morris didn't comment much.

The world was full of possibilities, but your boyfriend didn't think to think of the future, because he didn't know what it would hold. The first time you had sex came later than expected, all after his strange confession that possibly leaving you with a child was a legitimate fear of his own. It seemed those in his line of work were not permitted to have families or relationships.

It wasn't against the rules, but the reality of leaving someone behind. And while that wasn't ideal, some people didn't care. Whether it be due to their reasons or wanting to carry on a legacy. Morris didn't like the idea of leaving a family behind. Or having a family outside of his team, to begin with.

But that was all before you. Now, things were complicated.

Morris came and went, following the orders of his higher-ups. The Screaming Eagles, as his sub-team had been named, were professionals and just as he had mentioned before, you can't complain about being too good at something.

At first, you don't let it bother you. He's always careful, always back within a few days. It's when he starts going more often and staying away far longer that you begin to get irked. You know you shouldn't. After all, if he didn't save the world, then who would?

It got scary a handful of times as while he did come back to you, sometimes he would be a bit more damaged than before. A scar here. Bullet mark there. One time he was in the hospital for over a week, having just barely dodged getting blown up.

It was terrifying, getting the phone call from someone you didn't know telling you that your boyfriend was laid up, just partial conscious with bruises and bandages. When you went to see him, he tried to crack a joke, tried to get you to smile, but you couldn't. You were happy he was alive, but that didn't change the turning in your stomach.

He was home for a while after that, healing up, but you knew it wouldn't be for long. His team needed him. Perhaps even more than you needed him. Teammates would show up out of the blue to check on him and while getting to know other Screaming Eagle members was exciting and brought a sense of normality to it, you couldn't help but be bitter.

Whether they be special forces or work at a 9-5 office job. You never know when it's your time, so why bother waiting around for things to happen when you can just make them happen.

The world was full of possibilities, but your boyfriend didn't think to think of the future, because he didn't know what it would hold.

It had been the largest fight you both ever had. You don't truly remember what even set it off, but before you knew it, you were screaming and fighting, arguing over things you wanted and didn't want.

How utterly unfair it was that he could come and go for days or even weeks and all you could do was wait for him come back.

"I always come back!" He shouted, his voice rising as the anger bubbled inside of him.

"For now." She shot back. "You came back after nearly being blown to pieces. And here you are, still healing, still carrying those physical and mental scars and you're already planning to go back."

"I have to go back. This is what I do. This is what I have always done."

"And I get that!" You insist. You aren't trying to get him to stop. You'd never do that to him. You knew Morris loved his work, you knew that this was what he was meant to do, but he had to understand. He needed to comprehend how unhappy you were in this situation.

"Then what?!"

"I'm scared!" You confess loudly. "I'm scared of not knowing where you are or what you're doing. I'm scared of you never coming back. And I know it's immature and I know I this is what you do, but I just..."

You threw your hands up, unsure of what else to say. What could you say? Your feelings were obvious. You were scared and sad, and unhappy. You wanted this man all the time and you couldn't have that. It was unfair and you were ashamed to feel this way, but you just couldn't help it.

"I'm not going to apologize, Y/N," Morris confessed, stepping closer to you. "We could break up and maybe we should, but I won't be the one to do it. I can't. Call me a selfish bastard, but I want you. I want things I never thought I would want. Never thought I could want."

Breaking up would have been easier. You could have scrapped it all as a wonderful memory and went back to your old apartment or find a different one. You could find another person who had a regular job and didn't disappear for days on end. Who wouldn't get blown up during a massive fight and didn't have a ridiculous codename?

"Say the word and I'll leave." He promised, reaching up with those strong hands to cradle your face.

The same hands that would pull the trigger and end the lives of the enemy were holding you so carefully like you were the fucking world.

"Just say it and it will all be over." He whispered, those hazel eyes bright and wide as he waited for you to make the choice.

All you would have had to do was say the word. He could have walked away and it would all be over.

But you didn't want to do that. You hated how much your heart was hurting, but you knew that the pain of being apart wouldn't be any less painful than the pain of being together even if you were separated time and time again.

So rather than saying the words and ending everything, you brought your lips to his, kissing him soundly. You caught him off guard, which was never easy to do as his senses were always spot on, but tonight you found yourself finally able to stop the special force's specialist.

He caught on quickly, of course, moving his hands from your face and down to your waist, lifting you into his arms. He didn't bother bringing you to your bedroom and instead dropped you right onto the couch where he ravished you ever so properly.

Sex had always been enjoyable but was it completely different from Morris. He was so attentive to you and your needs, wanting to get you off before he did. You had never been with someone who cared about you as much as he did. Who loved you as much as he did.

And you never loved anybody the way you loved him. Your Morris L. Sanderson. Your Mouse.

You enjoyed your final days together for as long as they could last. You went into the city and date multiple date nights. You spent days in bed, rolling around in the sheets and tucked away from the rest of the world. You went back to the bar where you first met and pulled Morris into the bathroom where you fucked his brains out, finally experience the thrill of having sex in a public place.

It was wild and spontaneous, something you'd only want to do with this one person.

You try not to think about when he'd have to go. He would return to his team and carry on saving the world. That day doesn't come quickly, but it does come eventually and you don't let it bother you. You can't because what is the point of crying? Of fighting? He'll come back. He always does after all.

So you kiss him goodbye and promise to see him again.

Morris leaves and you're left alone again, carrying on with life like always. You went to work and bought food for the house and watered your plants. You looked into getting a pet so your home wasn't so lonely when you were alone.

When Morris returned, it was the same as always. He kissed you wildly, spending a good while making love to you late into the night. Morris was a passionate person, but at no other time was the most full of need and desire than on the days when he would return.

Normally he wouldn't speak of what had gone down while he was away, but on some evenings would be more talkative and this night in particular. He mentioned that they were getting closer to finishing whatever was started and that a new plan was being made. You didn't understand what he was getting into and fell asleep listening to his voice.

When morning came, you cleaned around the room, finding no sign of a condom. You found Morris in the kitchen, eating cereal on the couch. He was rambling on about how lovely you looked, hair messy from sleep as you stood in nothing more than his tee-shirt and your panties.

"We forgot the condom." You mention to him, pausing to wait for him to get upset.

You knew there were other options for protection and whether or not you were on the pill was up in the air currently. Morris looked up from his cereal, swallowing his final bite. "I know." He admitted quietly. "Realized when we finished."

"You're oddly calm about this." You mention, thinking back to the long conversations you used to have with him about pregnancy and having a child. Neither of you was ready then but time went on and things changed.

You didn't know how you felt about the subject, mostly because you haven't thought about it for a while.

"Doesn't matter." Morris shrugs. "If it happens, it happens. No reason to worry."

"No reason to worry?" You repeat, raising a brow to him.

Morris bobbed his head, turning his attention back onto his cereal. "No reason to worry." He replied, his eyes focusing on the television before him.

There was no reason to worry. No pregnancy came and you began to wonder if Morris was disappointed because of it. Sometimes you could watch him watching you as if he was waiting for a chance to come that never would.

You use condoms when you have sex, though not every single time. Only when he knows he is going to leave, but never when he returns. It's an unspoken agreement of you two. Whatever happens, happens. You wouldn't push for it, but you wouldn't wholeheartedly try to prevent it either.

You both grow comfortable in the life you've created with one another until one day Morris throws a wrench in your plan. A wonderful wrench in the shape of a house. Not an apartment or a loft or a sublet. A house. An actual fucking house with a yard and a garden and multiple bedrooms.

You lose your mind in not so many words, unable to fathom that this is something you have. You're a homeowner. Your boyfriend bought you a house to stay in. A house that you could make your own. You don't believe him, insisting that all of this was just far too out of reach for either of you.

Morris is just standing there, smiling with his gorgeous smile. "You can make any place a home, but I thought . . . why not make it a bit more permanent?"

"This is . . . Morris!" You're flabbergasted, unable to fully process all of this.

So you jump his bones, laughing and smiling, kissing him with every ounce of happiness that you could muster. He carries you into the house that isn't exactly furnished but that doesn't matter. You make love on the floor, riding him into oblivion and crying out his name without worries of neighbors hearing through the walls.

You spend the weekend moving in, finding yourself thankful that Morris had a lot of friends who were strong enough to carry all your boxes for you. They stayed to celebrate afterward. Duke, and Roadblock, Clutch, and Lady Jaye. Everyone whose names you were just finding out.

You sat in your back yard, all of you drinking beer at you sat around a handmade fire pit as they talk stories about their past missions. You were seated on Morris' lap, with his arms around your waist as he held you tightly.

You laughed at the tales they told about your wonderful boyfriend, all of which were silly and wild and brave. When the night came to an end, Morris put out the fire and you were in the kitchen cleaning up. Duke and Jaye approached you, thanking you for the good night and wishing you a happy home warming.

"It's nice you know. Seeing him happy." Duke mentioned. Duke wasn't the type to say a lot, but when he spoke, you knew it meant something. "Keep it up," With a pat on your shoulder, the two left the house, leaving you and Morris alone in your home.

You were able to enjoy it for a few more days before the man was called away again. It was strange, being alone in this wonderful house. It was more open than the apartment and it would certainly be a lot to get used to, but you'd make it work.

Morris would come and go, come and go. You lived your life as well as you could. You were happy and sad, you missed him terribly but were always glad to see him come back.

You were laying in bed one night, one before he was supposed to leave. This trip was the biggest yet. Duke had come over a few nights before going over the planning and while you were in and out of the house, off to spend some time with friends, you caught a bit of the conversation. If they succeeded in this, then retirement was possible.

Retirement never even seemed like something attainable for Morris. He was too young. Too good at his job. But maybe, just maybe, it was something he'd want and could have.

You had made love slowly, letting only the light from the moon peek in through your window. You chose not to get dressed, allowing only the blanket to cover your naked bodies as you stayed wrapped up in one another afterward. No condom had been used this time around and Morris continued to kiss your cheeks and lips as you laid together.

"I have something for you," He admitted softly.

"Oh? And what is that?"

"It's in the nightstand." He said, tightening his arms around you. "But you can't have it yet."

"What?" You laugh.

"You can open it when I come back."

"Why bother telling me then?"

Morris just chuckles and kisses you. It was his personality. He was witty and charming and one hundred percent a wiseass. He would spoil you endlessly, but make you wait for it just to make a point across even if you didn't know what the point was.

When morning came, Morris was gone, leaving behind a note and a little stuffed mouse for good measure. It was plush and precious and you took hold of it, keeping it close to your heart. You roll over, going back to sleep so you could dream of this wonderful man. You dream of opening up your gift and picturing the life you'll have together.

A life full of happiness and joy. With pets and kids and everything in between.

A day passes and then another. Nothing you're not used to. On a particularly nice night, you go out to the water and begin skipping stones or well, attempt to. On the final try, you finally get it.

The small stone bounced across the water surface, disappearing off into the distance. You jump triumphantly, searching around to see if anyone was around to witness your achievement. You were alone, but it didn't bother you much.

It would be something for you to tell Mouse when he came home.

And he always came home.

Just like he promised he would.

#G.I Joe Retaliation #Retaliation #Morris Mouse Sanderson #Mouse x Reader #Joe Mazzello X Reader #Joe Mazzello #X reader #reader fanfiction #fanfic #writing #military #military x reader #joseph mazzello x reader #Joseph mazzello #military boyfriend #he is like an angsty #gardner langway

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deaky-trash · 5 years ago

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Promise | Eugene Sledge x Reader

Pairing: Eugene Sledge x F!Reader

Word Count: 305

Warnings: Mentions of war and death ig?

A/N: I really have been wanting to post more Eugene so PLEASE request him more. Or Gardner or Pat. Any character PLEASE i need requests fam

Y/N was sitting on the small town home's sofa, reading a book as she heard the knock on the front door. She was alarmed and hesitated at first, but eventually stood up to answer the door. She was hoping, praying it was her Eugene.

Y/N loved Eugene with all her heart and she had felt so empty since he had left for war. She missed him dearly and the bed felt colder and colder every night that her sweet Gene wasn’t there holding her in his arms. She was praying to any God or deity anywhere that Eugene hadn’t gotten killed in battle and that he had returned home to Alabama safely

She reached out, but hesitated to open the door at first, her hand inches away from the doorknob. And then she heard his voice. “I know you’re in there, darling,” Eugene remarked, knocking on the door once more. “The lights are on and I smell supper!”

Y/N immediately flung open the door and nearly tackled Eugene into a hug, smiling and kissing him as if it was the last thing she’d do. “Genie!” she chirped, kissing his cheeks.

“Aww, I missed you too, Y/N/N!” He chuckled as she kept kissing around his face, eventually holding his wife’s face in his hands and kissing her passionately. He had missed Y/N too, and in the months that had passed, he had saved up all of his love for when he got back home to her.

He pulled away, but kept her face close to his, pressing his forehead to hers. “I missed you so much, Y/N/N…” be mumbled against her lips. “I was so scared you weren’t coming back, Gene,” she murmured in reply, kissing him gently. “Well, I’m here now, and I’m staying with you. Promise”

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gotboredwrote · 5 years ago

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Anchored, But Irradiated // GL!JFM

Pairing: Gardner Langway x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.9K Style: One-Shot (prompt: person A having a broken leg and person B has to carry them up and down the stairs to their bedroom every morning/night) Warnings: Fluff (to quote a reader: #holyheckinmoly there’s a lot of it), swearing Summary: Gardner has to deal with a broken leg on his route, forcing himself to establish a bond between him and you, the nurse who helps him. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: @love-me-a-good-prompt , you’ve done it again. Thanks for the inspiration! I changed it a little bit to fit this character better, but the idea is there. Expect to probably be tagged in a lot of my stuff because your ideas are lovely and I always give credit where credit is due. P.S. I hate the name of this story - I tried for like 20 minutes to come up with something better but I just couldn’t.

Masterlist

“Gardner, I told you that one day this was gonna happen, you never listen to me.”

The sound of Calvin’s voice echoed through Gardner’s brain, scolding him for something he already felt stupid for letting happen. The two of them were currently seated in the emergency room because Gardner tripped over the ledge of his boat and felt right onto his leg, breaking it. Calvin all but dragged him into his car, Gardner, for once, at a loss for words. Not saying what came to mind only because the sheer amount of embarrassment he felt was overwhelming. The orthopedist came back into their room after having put on Gardner’s cast and grabbing the discharge papers, now accompanied by a new nurse that neither boy had seen before. The two looked at her questioningly, giving the doctor a chance to explain himself.

“Normally, we don’t allow one of our on-staff nurses to help out with at-home care, but we know that Calvin works full-time, and that you are a mailman.”

“Carrier.” Calvin shot Gardner a look as if to say ‘there’s the Gardner we all know.’

“Regardless. Clearly, this is going to inhibit your ability to do your job properly, so that is where Y/N comes in. She’s already been cleared through your office and ours, so she will be helping you both at home and at work. Obviously, this is covered by insurance, but don’t think of her like that. She’s there to help you and be your friend, too.”

“Um, okay. I guess since you cleared it with my boss.”

“Great. Now, all I need for you to do is take these papers to the front desk, and you are good to go. I’ll see you in eight weeks to remove the cast. Nice meeting you both.”

The doctor made his way out of the room, which left Gardner and Calvin alone with the new face. They were both staring at you in somewhat a state of shock, which made you a little uneasy. But, you had worked with worse clients than two guys who were about your age, so you felt like you could handle them.

“Well, I think you two have clearly had enough of the hospital atmosphere for the day, why don’t we get going so I can make sure you’re situated for the night, Gardner?”

“Okay.”

“Wonderful. Calvin, you can lead the way to the front desk with his paperwork. I’ll push him in his wheelchair behind you.”

Calvin picked up the paperwork and started to make his way to the front. You were left alone with Gardner, and you reached over to help him stand and he retracted himself from you. Physically moved away so you could not touch him. It was as if nothing about the situation had been explained to him.

“Gardner, you do know that I will have to touch you in order to help you, right? You need someone to balance on.”

“I know. I’m just not very good with other people. Especially them touching me.”

“I understand, hon.” You let out an adoring sigh. “But you’re going to have to trust me. Sure, there are certain things you can do without me or with crutches, but sitting and standing, doing your job, those kinds of things are not doable with crutches. If anything, they’ll make you less stable, and you’re not allowed to put weight on the cast.”

“I know,” Gardner practically whined while looking down at the floor. His face pained you, because it was a clear mix of emotions. He was obviously upset with himself for allowing a dumb injury like this to happen, but he was also dealing with an internal battle regarding you. And you did not want him to hate you by the end of this experience – he seemed like a nice guy after all. You dropped the floor in front of the bed where Gardner’s legs were hanging, opting for this method of looking at his face versus grabbing his cheek to avoid crossing a boundary before he gave you the okay.

“Calvin is probably wondering if we got lost on the way to the front, so I think it’s about time we go. Do you trust me, hon?”

Gardner made eye contact with you, shaking a little bit from embarrassment. He nodded his head a little bit, giving you the okay that you needed, and you lightly patted his knee, beaming up at him to show him how proud you were for overcoming that hurdle. You had been informed of Gardner’s condition, and you were not going to push him too far. You just wanted to get him to trust you, and he confirmed that he did. You stood up in your place, and grabbed the folded wheelchair placed next to his bed, opening it for him. Once all the proper motion-locks were in place, you walked back in front of him, extending your arms forward.

“Just pretend like you’re going to hug me and wrap your arms around my neck so I can get my arms underneath yours. That way I can balance you while you turn and sit down using only one leg. Remember to only put weight on the non-broken one.”

Gardner took a deep breath in, and ever so gently, like you were made of glass, placed his arms on your shoulders, hands lightly plopped on the back of your neck. You took most of the initiative and grasped the underside of triceps, the entirety of your arms pressing upward against his, bringing him to stand at his full height, which was much taller than you. Then you carefully instructed him on how to turn around on one foot, and changed the way you grasped his arms when he went to sit on the chair. Once he got himself situated and comfortable, you propped his leg up on the leg rest, unlocked the motion locks, and crossed your arms in front of him, smirking.

“See? That wasn’t so bad. Now the hard part is done until we get to the car. I’ll just push you around from here.”

You went behind him to grab onto the handles of the wheelchair, slowly pushing so as not to move him too harshly at first. You gathered up momentum, and before you knew it, you had caught up to Calvin, who was attempting to score a date with your coworker who was at the front desk.

“Calvin, she’s married, hon.”

“Oh, I-I wasn’t trying… to… yeah.”

You smiled pitifully at him, laughing a little bit, and took Gardner’s discharge papers from his hand. You helped him fill them out before making your way to Calvin’s car. Once there, he looked at you as if waiting for instructions.

“Alright. I will get Gardner in the car with you, and then I will fold up his wheelchair and bring it with me to his place. Once there, I’ll take everything on myself, you won’t have to worry about a thing, Calvin.”

“But what about meals?”

“I’ll always arrive early to cook and stay as late as he wants me to.”

“So, I’m useless in this equation?”

“No, honey. There are just certain things I have to do for Gardner that you aren’t medically qualified to do. If you wanted to cook him breakfast one day, that’s totally fine, I just have to help him get to the kitchen and whatnot. But for now, let’s get Gardner into the car so you two can show me the way to your place.”

With that, you helped Gardner get into the passenger seat of Calvin’s car, instructing them to not leave the parking lot until they saw you drive up to their car. Once you flashed your lights at them, he pulled out of the lot and you made your way to the house. Stepping out of the car and grabbing Gardner’s wheelchair, you noticed the boat parked in front of the house.

“I live on that boat.” Gardner blankly told you once you got him in the wheelchair and started pushing him toward the house.

“You’re joking, right?”

“How do you think he broke his leg?”

“You fell off the boat? Is that why you looked the way you did back at the hospital?”

Gardner’s eyes went wide and he was thankful that you were behind him and you could not see his face and how red it had gotten, embarrassment resurfacing. You could see his shoulders tense up at your question, and you wanted to think of something that might make him feel better about how he got hurt. Then it dawned on you.

“Gardner, hon, I have helped people who have injured themselves in much more embarrassing ways than tripping. Remind me one day to tell you the story about the guy who was having just a little bit too much fun with himself using a plant, of all things. I have some real doozies for you, I promise.”

You could see Gardner’s shoulders slump back to their original posture, and he actually turned around to face you. Still pretty red, but awkwardly smiling, too. It was adorable. Unconsciously, you decided to smile back and ruffle his hair a little bit, a little bit more than stunned when he did not shy away and even smiled a little bit more warmly.

After getting Gardner settled in for the night the night before, which was a doozy in and of itself because he did not want to change in front of you, but he was having trouble doing it on his own, you told him that you would be around bright and early to help him get ready before work. He had snuggled down into his bed, and you had ruffled his hair one last time for the night, wishing him a restful sleep. You left Gardner for the first time since you met, and drove home. Gardner, meanwhile, looked down at his leg, a constant reminder of the new presence in his life. The new distraction. He was snapped out of his thoughts when the hatch of the boat flew open, revealing a loud-mouthed Calvin wanting to know what he missed once you two were alone.

“Calvin, nothing happened.”

“Don’t lie to me, brother. I know she had to help you with everything. That means she helped you change. Was it steamy?”

“What?”

“What yourself! You seriously cannot tell me you don’t think Y/N is cute?”

“I don’t distract myself with stuff like that.”

“Well, I for one think she’s just as beautiful as her friend at the hospital. Just, y’know, warn me before she comes in the house. Just in case.”

“Calvin, if I’m in the house, so is she. The only time she won’t be with me is when I’m sleeping. Which I would like to do now. Goodnight, Calvin.”

Calvin shrugged his shoulders and sighed, not understanding how his friend could not even find you the least bit attractive. What Calvin did not know, though, was that Gardner was thinking about you like that. That was part of the reason he looked so embarrassed at the hospital. Sure, most of it was actual embarrassment from how he got hurt, but a little portion of it was insecurity. You were stunning to him, and he never really thought most girls were even cute, and he was just him. He knew there was no hope for him to try anything, considering he was already shy to begin with. He just wanted his leg to get better so he did not have to think about the inevitability of rejection later on.

The next morning, you arrived at Gardner’s boat when you had told him you would, and you helped him get ready for work. This mainly involved getting him dressed and making him breakfast while he watched. Toast with butter and jelly. He always had the same thing every morning, and never changed it. Except this time, he told you to make some toast for yourself, too. His way of saying thanks for what you would have to put up with these next few weeks. You had reminded him that it is your job, and you would not do it if you did not want to. Gardner informed you that he always ate his breakfast while he walked to work, and you told him that that was completely fine.

“I can hold your toast so you can push me, if you want.”

“That’s sweet of you, Gardner, but I think I can manage.”

You could see his face flush red when he turned away from you, as if you embarrassed him again. You did not mean to do so, you just stuck the piece of toast between your teeth lightly, and used the hand that was not pushing his wheelchair to run your fingers through his hair. Something you realized calmed him down whenever he got flustered. He admitted to you that no one is allowed to touch him the way that he let you, and you felt a sense of pride. It made you feel warm and fuzzy that a client trusted you that much. Especially one as cute and passionate as Gardner. You had made it to the post office, where you were greeted by his coworkers. You explained the story, thus embarrassing Gardner again. You felt bad each time it happened, but something like this for Gardner is not easily forgotten or gotten over. But he grinned and bared it for you, appreciating your calming demeanor and hands that would stroke his hair anytime you sensed he was overwhelmed. You even did it in front of his coworkers, and even he had to laugh to himself when he saw the looks on their faces. Once Gardner had grabbed his bag and all the mail that was due out for the day, the two of you started his route. You had established while walking over to the post office that you would push him as close to the mailbox of each house as you could. If it was at the door to a house that had some steps, despite breaking postal code, he would just instruct you on how to place everything in the mailbox for the purpose of keeping up with the time he has established these past six years. Despite your legs being marginally shorter than his, you managed to keep up the pace he wanted and you made it back to Calvin’s at the usual time. Something Gardner mentioned in your conversations was that when he got home from work, Calvin would usually be cooking dinner and he would shower away the grime and sweat he accumulated throughout the day. This could possibly be the hardest challenge both you and Gardner would have to face throughout these eight weeks, but if you could get through it once, you could get through it every day. You two had not discussed how this would happen, but you had an idea from previous clients about what the best plan of action would be. You just were not exactly sure how you wanted to bring up the idea to Gardner. You decided on forwardness.

“I was thinking… why don’t I help you sit down on the floor and you can lean back against the bathtub. I’ll wash your hair that way, and then I can move you to be sitting on the ledge of the tub and I’ll give you a sponge bath. Everywhere except the places that would make anyone uncomfortable. Would that work for you?”

Gardner’s breathing had increased tremendously, but he understood why he could not sit in the tub – his cast would get wet and he would just extend the tortuous process of remaining in the cast an extra day.

“Y-yeah.”

Once you and Gardner managed to make your way up the steps, you helped him sit down on the floor by the ledge of the tub. You were about to unbutton his shirt for him, but then you remembered you only needed to do that for the clients you helped that had broken arms. You had to physically stop yourself from grabbing his shirt, and this time it was your face that flushed with color.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s… force of habit.”

“It’s okay. I basically have to get used to it anyway, right? Sponge bath, and all?”

“R-right.”

You let Gardner take off his work shirt while you started running the water. While you continually checked the temperature, you felt his one arm bump you while removing the white tee shirt he wore underneath his uniform shirt. He was going to just toss it to the side like he normally would, but for some reason, he could not let go of it. He lightly toyed with the sleeves while it laid across his stomach. You turned to look at him, realizing that he had gotten redder once his bare chest was out for you to see. He almost seemed insecure about the way he looked, which you felt was endearing. Contrary to how he felt, you though his little tummy was cute, just like the rest of him. You turned back around to check on the water, but ran your hand through his hair, this time tugging lightly. Reassuring him that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. You made a mental note to tell him about the one unruly man you once had to do this for while you washed his hair. When you tugged his hair, you thought you heard him whimper slightly, but pushed it out of your mind because the water had reached the temperature that you wanted. You stood up to unhook the showerhead from the wall, and to grab Gardner’s shampoo and conditioner. You confirmed your suspicions of the whimper, despite all efforts to push it out of your mind, because you felt him whine lightly against your leg when you stood up, as if he missed the close proximity you two were sharing. When you knelt back down, you realized that he had been staring up at you watching all of your motions. You returned to the comfortable spot next to him, smiled sweetly and ran your hand through his hair again, earning you yet another whine. What had gotten into him?

“Alrighty, hon, lean your head back as far as you can without hurting your neck. I’m going to start washing your hair, okay?”

“Okay.”

Gardner leaned his head back, and soon after felt the warm gush of water from the shower soak his auburn locks. You had ceased running your hand through his hair while the water drenched it, and you just watched the water run off the ends of his hair into the tub, as well as the relaxed face he had on. He really looked at peace for the first time since being in the hospital yesterday, and it made you really happy with yourself that you were the one to get him to this point. You were really starting to like this boy, and you hated yourself for it. This was a work companionship, you were not allowed to have feelings for your patients… were you? The more you thought about it, you realized that almost all of your patients were older people, people way out of your age range to date. The few that you had been assigned to that were remotely close to your age were in committed relationships, or people you did not find attractive or had bad personalities. Gardner was none of these. He was kind, shy, right around your age, grounded, and a little quirky – just how you liked your guys. You could not help but wonder about the possibilities. But you had time to daydream another day. The sweetheart relaxing at your side needed to have his hair and body cleaned after a long day of working in the sun. You did, too, but you were not as worried about yourself as you were Gardner in that moment. You carefully laid the showerhead down in the bathtub so as not to have a fountain splashing all over Gardner and Calvin’s bathroom. You squeezed a dollop of Gardner’s shampoo into your hand, rubbed it between your palms and fingers lightly to coat them, and started massaging the liquid onto his head. Immediately the whines returned. But this time, they were not as breathy, or high pitched. They came from a place much deeper in his throat that made them lower in tone and much clearer to the ear. No longer whines, but moans. Quiet, but moans nonetheless. That did not stop you. You realized that the way you normally ruffled his hair would not cut for cleaning it, and he seemed to like the light tugging you did when you ran your hand through his hair to calm him down, so you figured working that into this would not be all that bad of an idea. Each time you ran your fingers through his hair, you tugged lightly at the thickest point and then massaged his scalp lightly. You looked down at his face for a split second, and the boy looked like he was completely in heaven, blissed out beyond comprehension. It almost looked like the face he would make while in a state of ecstasy, not that you minded his expression. You smiled, and moved your eyes back to his hair. Once you felt that his hair had been properly cleaned, you rinsed your hands in the water that had accumulated in the bottom of the tub, and proceeded to pick up the showerhead to rinse out the suds.

“There was this one time I had to work with this guy who had broken his dominant arm.” You spoke at a whisper, earning Gardner’s hazel eyes flittering in your direction. “I had to do just what I am doing for you, except that I don’t mind doing this for you. This guy was… disgusting, frankly.” Gardner chuckled, but it was cut short when you ran your fingers through his hair again to make sure the water ran over each and every strand. “He was unruly, and just not a clean guy. I was so happy that he had his other arm to clean his body. I don’t know if I would have ever recovered from washing him. His hair was enough – matted and curly. If it would have been properly taken care of, I’m sure his hair would have been gorgeous. Except he didn’t and it was always greasy and looked like a bird’s nest.”

“Why are you telling me this story?”

“Because I saw the way you toyed with your shirt when you first took it off. Like you were nervous to not wear a shirt in front of me. I need you to know that you are the last person who should worry about that.”

“Why?”

Shit. You backed yourself into a corner. What would you tell him? That you thought his body was cute, especially his tummy? That he was clearly the last person who needed to worry about his weight since he walked like ten miles a day and looked healthy? You decided to just be forward with him again. It worked last time, so who is to say it would not work again?

“Honestly? You’re just really cute, Gardner. Everything about you.”

Gardner could feel his face flush, and not from the hot water running through his hair, sense that his pupils dilated, and that his heart was beating loud enough to hear it in his ears, but for once he did not turn away. He faced the compliment head on, hoping that you would appreciate the braveness.

“Ditto.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Ditto. Calvin taught that word to me. It means ‘I feel the same about you.’ I don’t think it’s an actual word though.”

Had Gardner just called you cute? Everything about you cute? Well, you’ll be damned, maybe this could go somewhere once he was better and no longer in your care. You repeated the process from moments ago with Gardner’s conditioner, earning a few more whines and groans from your new favorite mail carrier. Once his hair had been thoroughly cleaned, you turned the water off from the showerhead and let it flow freely from the spicket. You placed a hand on the back of Gardner’s neck to brace it for the initial stiffness it would surely feel from hanging over the edge of the tub like that for a while. Once his head was up, you lifted him up to sit on the edge of the tub. He stared at you with half-lidded eyes, looking sleepy, while you grabbed a small towel to rub on his head. His legs were spread apart lightly, so you stood in between them, his eyes level with your chest, but that was not where he was looking. His eyes peered right up at yours, shining like all of the galaxy’s stars were within them. You had placed the towel on his head and started to massage the towel around, gathering up the water that would drip down his back so he would not get the shivers. He simply watched you focus, adoring the way that your eyes squinted a little bit and you pulled your lips in upon one another. Once you felt that his hair was dry enough, you removed the towel from his head, laid it across the back of his neck, and pulled lightly on either end, bringing his head the slightest bit closer to your body. You smiled down at him, pleased with how sleepy you were making the boy look.

“Feel good, hon?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. I realized that there isn’t a real need for me to give you a sponge bath when you have the use of both of your arms, so I can leave while you do that and sit –”

“Would you still do it?”

“What?”

“I was… kind of looking forward it. You have a very relaxing touch, Y/N.”

“Oh, um, sure. Just let me know if I get to a spot that makes you uncomfortable, okay, hon?”

“Mhm.”

You told Gardner you would help him stand so he could remove his uniform shorts, and then he could sit back down in just his underwear. Giving you access to everywhere you needed to clean him. You walked over to the linen closet and grabbed a plush washcloth, and picked out the soap that Gardner liked to use, wetting both under the hot water. Then began the part that was sending both of you into overdrive. You had to wet his body before applying the soapy water to it, so you just went for it. Starting at his shoulders, you lightly rubbed the washcloth down his arms, and came back up to his chest. Slowly you made your way down his entire torso, stopping about five inches above the hem of his underwear, to avoid making his boxers wet and to make him uncomfortable. Then you added the soap to the mix and lightly scrubbed his skin to get off any grime that accumulated over the course of his shift, despite you doing most of the walking. His eyes continued to glare at you, but in the most loving and sleepy of ways. You rinsed off the soap from his body and he made a motion as if he was going to try to stand, thinking you were finished. You pushed him down by the shoulders, earning a sharp intake of breath from him, and now wide-eyes. Still sparkling with all the stars in the night sky, though. You proceeded to wring the washcloth of its dirty components, running fresh water over it. Then you kneeled down, still in between his legs, and brought his face down to look at your own. The next thing Gardner knew was he felt the damp cloth all over his face, gently stroking to open up his pores to clean the delicate skin of his face. His face had already been red, but the close proximity and the fact that the washcloth was hot made it worse. He did not mind, though. He just continued to watch the look of concentration on your face, until he was snapped out of it.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart, don’t wanna get soap in them.”

Gardner did as he was told, and let the suds run down his face, reveling in the feeling of you washing them away and patting his face like you were telling him he was your good boy. Once all the soap had been properly rinsed off, you grabbed the larger bath towel and began to dry off Gardner’s body. You left his face last again, and when you got to that point, you unknowingly had inched closer on the floor to him, so that when you removed the towel from his face, your face was a mere few inches from his. You both stopped breathing momentarily, not realizing how close you really were. Gardner then lightened the mood by flashing a dorky smile at you.

“Thank you, that felt really good. I hope that wasn’t weird of me to have you do that.”

“Oh, no, honey, not at all. It was my pleasure.”

“You’re really good to me.”

“All part of the job, lovebug.”

The nicknames you continually gave Gardner were a habit of yours with practically everyone you met. Honey, hon, and sweetheart were you go-to’s, so where the hell did lovebug come from?

Calvin had written a note that told you that dinner had been done for a while, and he had plans to go out that night, so he put portions for each of you in the refrigerator. You did not mind, and Gardner suggested that you eat in his boat so you two can tell each other work stories. You loved the idea, so you wheeled Gardner outside to the boat and carefully got him inside using his crutches. Once you got him situated at the small table inside, you told him that you would be back in ten minutes with dinner for two, courtesy of Calvin. You ruffled his now almost completely dry hair one more time and made a beeline for the kitchen, where you were pleasantly surprised to find some homemade pizza slices. While you were heating up your dinner, Gardner noticed a note on the table of the boat, left by Calvin.

“G, I heard you making those sweet sounds in the bathroom. I told you I knew you thought she was cute. Make a move, brother! -C”

Gardner flushed with embarrassment, ripping the note to shreds so that you would never see it, despite the fact that one could argue actually hearing the sounds he made was worse than reading the note. It did not matter. He had to just think of you as his nurse. Nothing more. despite how hard that was becoming. As if on cue, he heard the hatch of the boat open and the smell of fresh, warm pizza entered the boat.

“Ready to eat and gossip, Gardner?”

“Yes ma’am.”

While the two of you ate your dinner, you told Gardner a bunch of stories relating to all the quirky patients you encountered through the years, including the man with the pleasurable plant. It made Gardner laugh so hard that he almost choked on his pizza, earning even harder laughs from both of you when he could breath properly again. Gardner told you the small bits of gossip about the people on his route that he could gather from their mail, and showed you his stamp collection. You hung on to every single word he said about it, which made the feelings he was trying to subdue hit him full force on the head, because no one ever really cared about his stamps. Not before you. Before you knew it, it was almost time for you to ‘clock-out,’ so to speak, from helping Gardner for the day. You took everything back into the kitchen and washed the few dishes really quick to help Calvin out, then made your way back to the boat. You half expected sleepy Gardner to make a full return and him already be passed out by the time that you got back, but to your surprise, he was sitting straight up against the makeshift headboard, which was really just a wall, of his bed. Looking like he was thinking hard about something.

“Lovebug, you oka—”

“Would you spend the night?”

You were positive your jaw hit the floor.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. That was… completely uncalled for. You can leave, I’m good. I can make it to the bathroom on my own and –”

“If you want me to stay the night, I will.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I might just need to borrow your clothes, and I would need to run home and grab some stuff. I only live a few blocks over, wouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.”

“Can I ride with you?”

“You sure can, hon. C’mon…”

You lugged Gardner in his pajamas back outside and into your car, and he waited patiently while you gathered what you needed. Once you were back in the boat, you helped Gardner settle back into bed, while you got ready for the night. Despite going home, you were insistent that the least he could do was let you borrow one of his old tee shirts, so you would have less laundry to do the next day. He did not mind, and tossed you an older, worn shirt. You crawled into bed with him, not even considering the couch as an option, and laid down right beside your boy, eyes fluttering shut at the warmth spreading throughout the bed.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, hon?”

“Can you make me a promise?”

“Depends. What’s the promise?”

“That once this cast is off we can still be friends. Hang out like this.”

“Gardner?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll make a vow to remain this close to you for the rest of my life.”

Eight weeks had flown by, each day following the same pattern, just the way Gardner liked to live his life. Back at the hospital, Gardner had his final x-ray and was allowed to have his cast removed. He made sure that you were present, because frankly, the little saw scared him. But all went well, and you helped Gardner stand for the first time on his noodley leg. It had lost most of the muscle from all the walking he did, but the doctor reminded him that it would come right back as he continued to use it. He remembered the vow you made him, and as you were walking him and Calvin back to their car, he had a smug face adorning his features.

“Why so giddy, lovebug?”

“I think my leg is going to be pretty weak for the first couple days, and the doctor told me you don’t work tomorrow.”

You could see where he was going with this, and you were completely fine with it.

“Seeing as that you are no longer my personal nurse, I would love to know if you would care to join me on my route tomorrow, Y/N?”

“I did make a vow, didn’t I?”

“One I plan on making you keep one way or another.”

“It’s a date, Gardner.”

Meanwhile, Calvin was staring at you two with the happiest of expressions, which quickly turned sour.

“Hey! Why can Gardner get the girl but I can’t? Hmpf. Well, at least you two are sickeningly cute.”

Permanent Taglist: n/a

Specific Story/Character Taglist: @gardnerlangway (imagine taking care of our baby boy!!)

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first-ex-wife · 6 years ago

Text

Long Away

hey guys! so about a week ago I got so angry about the way Dear Sidewalk basically brushes off Gardner’s parents leaving him–rather than allow us the pain that we deserve–that I wrote a fic about it! just a bit of self-serving exploration, but I am really proud of it! and I just found out that posts with links don’t always show up in the tags, so I’m now posting it here for you guys to enjoy! you can also find it on AO3 if you prefer, my username is the same there, and it’s one of only about 3 Dear Sidewalk fics! anyway, enjoy!

Gardner’s 15 when it happens. It’s a pretty ordinary day, a Friday. School’s the same as always, and Gardner pretty much just goes through the motions, going from class to class, taking notes, chatting with Calvin during their lunch period. It’s all just incredibly mundane, no indication of what’s to come. Which is a lot.

Gardner’s walk home is also the same as normal. Calvin accompanies him most of the way, until they reach the corner of his street, where Calvin turns left while Gardner continues straight. He spots a mailman across the street as he makes his way through the neighbourhood, and he cheerfully waves to him. Gardner’s been thinking about it a lot lately, and he’s started to contemplate becoming a mailman himself. He enjoys walking through the neighbourhoods—especially on days like today, when the sun shines down on him brightly, warming the sidewalks and brightening his surroundings—as well as interacting with his neighbours. He thinks it’d really be nice.

Gardner reaches his house, a tiny split-level with gray siding and a little garden surrounding it. The flowers are just starting to bloom in the increasingly warm weather, and a few of them display bright petals as he passes them on the way inside.

In contrast with outside, the inside of the house is incredibly dark. All of the curtains have been drawn, casting the whole house in shadows. Gardner drops his backpack on the floor by the kitchen table and flicks the light on.

Except, there’s no kitchen table. It’s gone. In fact, all of the furniture is gone.

“What the…?” Gardner carefully moves through the room—not that there’s much in the way of his movements now—examining his surroundings. The entire room is empty, not a single sign of the life that had previously filled the home. Everything had been here just this morning when Gardner had left for school. Now the kitchen is empty, and it echoes with the sounds of his footsteps, heavier and louder in the abandoned space.

“Okay…” Gardner says. He’s a little bit weirded out, but not overly worried. Maybe his parents had been intending to paint and just forgot to tell him? Or else, it is completely possible he just forgot. Sometimes he gets distracted. It’s probably nothing.

For a moment he does wonder where his parents are. If they moved all this stuff, they definitely didn’t go to work this morning. But then he figures they’ve probably just gone out to get the paint, and the moment passes.

Gardner picks his bag back up and carries it up the stairs to his bedroom. When he opens the door, he is a little bit relieved to find everything exactly the same as he left it. Everything’s completely fine. Nothing to worry about. He sits down at his desk and starts on his homework, working for about an hour before he decides he wants a snack.

The fridge and oven have been removed, but Gardner figures there’s definitely still food in the cupboards. He’s thinking about the crackers his mom always buys, round ones with a garlic flavouring, and he’s excited to have a few when he opens the cupboard and finds it empty.

“Oh.” Emptying the cupboards just to paint definitely seems like overkill, but alright. Maybe it’s not even painting. Maybe it’s something else. Of course, if Gardner’s parents were doing a complete kitchen overhaul, certainly he’d remember something about it, right?

Gardner moves into the hall and opens the pantry door. Again, completely empty. And now he’s starting to get worried. He quickly moves into the living room, testing out a hunch, trying to quell the sinking feeling in his stomach. Certainly there’s an explanation for all of this. He just needs to stay calm until he figures it out.

Gardner enters the living room. It’s dark, and he can’t see the lamp—which is not a good sign, he’ll admit—so he carefully makes his way to the window and pulls the blinds open. The room is empty. Well, not entirely empty. There are still pictures of him on the walls, Gardner through the ages. But somehow, this is a not a comforting detail. Everything disappearing from the house except for traces of him is not exactly comforting. It’s ominous.

“Definitely not a great sign,” Gardner mutters. He leaves the living room and heads back up stairs, throwing open doors and starting to examine the rooms. Bathroom: empty. Guest room: just a bedframe and a mirror left behind. Master bedroom: heart-wrenchingly empty. He crosses the room in quick, somewhat frantic strides and pulls the closet door open. There’s a lone hanger lying on the floor, but that’s about it. Gardner feels his heart miss a beat. For a moment it struggles to regain its rhythm, and he feels like he’s going to die. Eventually it evens back out, but part of that feeling remains.

Gardner stands there for a long moment, just staring at that stupid hanger. He feels like his legs are about to give out. But he’s not done, so after a moment he manages to gather his strength and returns to the hallway. He throws the hall closet open for good measure, but he’s not shocked by what he sees. Empty.

He’s not exactly sure what he has to gain from doing this, but he storms down the basement anyway, just to see. No surprise, it’s empty. On shaking legs he makes his way back upstairs and is relieved to make it to one of the few pieces of furniture left—his bed—before he completely collapses.

Gardner tries to think of reasonable explanations. He’s wracking his brain, trying to come up with something—anything—that could possibly explain what’s going on. Why his parents would take every piece of furniture from the house except for his things. It has to mean something. There has to be a reasonable explanation. Unless—

Unless they’ve just run off without him.

He’s trying to stay calm, trying to cling to the rational possibilities that don’t involve a heart-breaking conclusion—as basically non-existent as they are. He thinks back to this morning. He ate breakfast at the table, as he always did, while his parents got ready around him. They were preparing for work, he recalls, and the memory feels like a stab to the heart. But what’s worse is what came moments after. He remembers finishing his cereal, quickly brushing his teeth, and as he passed his mom on the way back downstairs, she stopped him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and saying “I love you, Gardner”. He remembers how he had replied that he loved her too. Certainly a woman who was planning on leaving him wouldn’t have stopped to say “I love you”. Would she have? It seems a bit needlessly cruel.

People lie, says a nagging voice in the back of his head. Maybe she would’ve.

Tears start to form in Gardner’s eyes, his breathing becoming a bit more choked. Maybe they didn’t love him. And that’s why they’re gone. That’s why they took all their stuff and left his, even going so far as to make a point of leaving behind the pictures of him, memories of the son they left behind.

“No,” Gardner says. “No, that’s ridiculous. There has to be a reason.” He felt like maybe vocalizing these thoughts would make them feel more true, but that feeling disappears the second he tries it out. And now he’s started to cry, and he feels like he can’t stop it. He can never stop it. So, he just gives in, letting his fears wash over him as the tears start to fall from his eyes, landing on the comforter in dark wet spots.

His parents have left him. For whatever reason, they have decided that they no longer want to live with their son. They’ve left, they’ve taken all their stuff, and they’ve left him behind. Everything else was important enough to take, but he’s left behind. Forgotten, just like that damn clothes hanger. Unwanted, unneeded, unloved. He tries to think of why this is happening. What he possibly could’ve done to provoke this. It makes him cry even more to try to come up with an action of his that would lead his parents to literally run off without him, but honestly, he has nothing. Parents are meant to love their children unconditionally, aren’t they? Maybe they’ve just never loved him, and they’re just finally doing something about it.

Gardner cries for what feels like hours. When he finally calms himself down a bit—taking deep breaths and clutching a pillow to his chest for support—his throat feels like it’s actually been scraped from the inside, an awful raw sensation that leaves him with pain when he swallows. When he looks in the mirror, his eyes are red and swollen, the area under them shockingly puffy. The tip of his nose is bright red, but the rest of his face is shockingly pale. He looks a bit like he’s dying, or at least suffering under incredibly severe allergies. He eyes linger on his face for just a bit too long and suddenly he’s crying again, and it takes at least half an hour to get back to a calm-ish state. After that, he avoids looking in the mirror, turning to face the other way on his bed.

When his breathing is steady and he’s found some tissues in his backpack to wipe his face, Gardner carefully composes himself, sitting up in bed and looking around the room, trying to formulate a game plan. It’s about 7, the sky outside just starting to darken, so he figures he needs to act soon before it gets too late. His stomach growls a bit, and he remembers that he never did have a snack, hasn’t eaten since maybe 11:30. At the same time he truly can’t imagine putting anything in his stomach without wanting to immediately throw it back up.

A surge of anger suddenly flares up inside of him nonetheless. It wasn’t bad enough that his parents would just disappear, they couldn’t even leave him some food? He’s 15, he has no job, no money of his own, no way to support himself, and they would just leave him alone in this goddamn house without even some crackers to get by?

Gardner gets up and paces the room, the anger flowing through him. He spent 15 years thinking his parents loved him and they left without a warning, and they couldn’t even be bothered to leave him some fucking crackers or… something. Anything. Admittedly he still has his bed, and his clothes, but that’s not exactly going to keep him from starving, and eventually he’s going to have to leave this house because he has no money, and even if—if—his parents counted on someone taking him in they still left him alone, and—

Gardner catches his eye in the mirror. He looks crazed. His face is no longer pale, but bright red, flushed to match his nose. His hair is messed up, fluffy on one side and flat on the other, and his eyes are burning with anger. Without even thinking about it, he lets his fist fly across the room. It makes contact with the glass and his reflection shatters, tiny shards flying everywhere, one even scraping across his cheek.

Gardner feels the pain dully, almost as if he’s feeling it from afar, like he’s not quite connected to his body. He’s still angry, and now the adrenaline is pumping, and he thrusts his fist into the same spot again. Without the glass it just comes up against the mirror-backing unimpressively. He punches it again, and again, except that now his anger is fading a little bit, and the pain is taking over instead. He brings his fist up to examine it. Blood gushes from the cuts where his knuckles made impact with the glass, spilling onto the floor, and his feet—and the shards of glass around his feet that he’s going to need to watch out for—where it soaks into his socks.

Gardner carefully moves to grab the last of his tissues, trying to sop up as much blood as he can. He’s already starting to regret doing that, but it’s just that this whole situation has him so out of control, and the realization of that is making him angry again—or maybe ready to cry, or maybe both, he isn’t sure—and the whole thing is just one big emotional loop that he will never free himself from, so he may as well just sit here for the rest of his life and cry and punch things and cry because that’s all he’s ever going to want to do again.

The tissues aren’t doing a thing to stop the bleeding, simply disintegrating into nothing with incredible speed. Since there’s about a 0 percent chance there’s any paper towel or napkins left in the house, Gardner decides that he really only has one choice, and he yanks his dresser drawer open, looking for an old article of clothing. He finds a blue t-shirt that he no longer wears and uses it to wipe at the trickle of blood he feels pouring down his face before tightly tying it around his hand. Then he lays back down on his bed. He notices his backpack sitting on the floor, a few broken bits of glass on top of it. He wonders if he should grab it and do something, maybe shove a few things into it like a change of clothes and go figure out what he’s going to do? He could always go see Calvin, he supposes, though he hates the idea of being a burden on Cal’s parents, hates sticking them with the responsibility of taking care of him just because his own parents couldn’t do it. The Bensons don’t deserve that.

Still, Gardner thinks, as he rolls onto his back and stretches his legs out, it’s really his only option. Other than staying here, of course, which really isn’t much of an option at all. At the very least, they might know what he needs to do.

Gardner stares up at the ceiling and lets out a yawn. Yeah, he should probably just go do that, before it gets too late. The sky’s already darkened quite a bit since the last time he checked. But his mattress is comfortable, and between the crying and the punching and the loss of blood and the not eating, Gardner can’t help but feel a bit sleepy, all the adrenaline and emotion drained out of his body, leaving him drowsy. Still, he’s going to get up. He has to get up. Any moment now, he’s going to…

When Gardner wakes up, it is now fully dark out, only the moon shining in through the window, casting a small patch of white light that slides over his stomach. For a moment he feels peaceful, the events of earlier that day forgotten. But then it all slams back into him and he groans with the memory. For a moment he wonders if maybe it was all just a vivid dream, but the way his right hand aches confirms that this nightmare is in fact his real life.

Gardner rolls over onto his side, where the bedside clock says 10:30. Shit. So much for leaving before it got too late and being as little of a burden as possible. Still, he has to admit that he does feel a bit better after his nap. His head aches a little bit but his emotions have kind of evened out, at least.

Gardner gets up fairly quickly, resolving that if he can leave soon, it still won’t be too late. Apparently he moves too quickly, though, because he almost collapses the moment he stands up, feeling incredibly light-headed, his vision spotty. “Right,” Gardner mutters to himself as his vision slowly reforms. The combination of blood loss and not eating is definitely not a good thing. But at this point there’s nothing he can do to fix it but make the journey to the Bensons’. And hope that if he happens to pass out along the way, someone will at least find him and take him to the hospital.

Gardner makes his way slowly across the room, turning the light on as he nears the remains of the mirror. He carefully walks through the shards of glass and reaches his backpack without feeling anything stab into his foot, which he takes as a good sign. His socks offer some padding, at least.

After Gardner grabs his bag he considers adding in the homework he started on earlier, which lies on his desk under the former mirror, but it’s covered in spots of blood and he figures if there was ever a situation that homework could be excused, it would probably be this. Instead, he carefully makes his way back to the other side of the room and quickly shoves in a few shirts, some underwear, and a pair of pants. That’s all he really needs right now. Anything else he needs he can come back for later.

His hand has started to throb with pain and he carefully unwraps it. It’s stopped bleeding, for the most part, but the skin is red and raw, with a few strips of skin still clinging on. Gardner resists the urge to pick at them and wraps the shirt back around his hand. Shrugging on his backpack, Gardner makes his way out of the room, brushing the soles of his feet to make sure there are no bits of glass stuck to his socks.

Gardner stops in the kitchen as heads outside. His throat is still feeling raw from earlier, and he figures it’s the least he can do for his body to actually drink something. He looks around for anything he can use for some water, but all the cups in the house are gone, of course. He thinks back to if there’s anything in his room, but he’s pretty sure there isn’t. Eventually he just settles for putting his mouth under the tap. It hurts a bit to swallow, but Gardner hadn’t been aware just how dry his mouth was, so it definitely helps. He stands under the faucet for maybe a minute before he decides to move on.

It’s cold outside when he opens the front door, and for a moment he wonders if he should go back and look for a coat. He can’t remember for sure if he opened the hall closet, so there may still be something of his in there. But he’s already standing outside with the door locked—if that’s truly necessary—and he’s tired and at this point actually very interested in eating something, so he just focuses on the walk ahead. The Bensons only live about a 5-minute walk away. He can do this.

As Gardner turns away from the house, something catches his eye. The boat, still sitting in the driveway, as if nothing’s even changed. His parents kept promising him that one day they would take it on the water, one day they would do something with it. But now it’s still here and they’re gone, and it seems that that’s never going to happen. Gardner’s always loved the boat. It has a bed below deck, and sometimes his parents would let him sleep out there, pretending that he really was on the water, an adventurer out at sea. It holds nice memories at least, even as Gardner fights down a bit of anger at the fact that they never kept their promise. He wonders if they left anything behind in cabin and resolves to check it out at some point.

Right now he focuses on the road ahead. His nap definitely helped, but Gardner still feels tired, and the light-headed feeling isn’t helping too much. He just focuses on one foot in front of the other, and when his stomach growls he just tries to ignore it.

The trip feels like it takes hours, but eventually Gardner finds himself standing in front of Calvin’s house. He can’t really see his watch in the dark, but he estimates it’s probably 10:45, and prays that’s not too late. His one saving grace is that at least it’s a Friday, so maybe they haven’t gone to bed too early.

Gardner knocks on the door with his good hand and waits a few moments. He thinks he can see a light on inside, but after what feels like a few minutes, still no one has come to the door. He guesses he can’t exactly blame them for not wanting to see who’s at the door when it’s nearly 11 PM. Still, he tries again, a bit harder, and when that still doesn’t illicit results, he rings the doorbell.

He’s about five seconds from collapsing onto the front step and just staying there for the rest of his life when finally someone comes to the door. It’s Calvin’s mom who answers, and she adopts an anxious expression when she sees him.

“Oh, Gardner, hi sweetie,” she says, clearly trying for warmth but still sounding worried. “Are you alright?”

Gardner can only imagine how he looks right now, but he’s certain it’s not alright. He glances down at his hand, and Mrs. Benson’s eyes follow.

“Oh sweetheart, what happened to you?” She gently takes his arm and unwraps his hand, examining the damage. When she meets his eye again, the level of concern on her face makes Gardner tear up a little.

Gardner isn’t really sure how to answer her question, and after a moment Mrs. Benson ushers him inside. “Please, come in,” she says, leading him to the kitchen table, where he numbly takes a seat. He’s working up to asking if she has anything to eat when she hurries out of the room, saying that she’ll go get some bandages and fix him up.

While he waits, trying not to pass out but starting to feel very close—the walk really took a lot out of him, and it’s not like he had a ton to give—he stares at his hand, blinking every few seconds. While he’s distracted with that, he doesn’t notice Calvin enter the room.

“Gardner?” he asks, concern colouring his voice.

Gardner’s head jerks up, and he’s rewarded with spotted vision and nausea. Too fast, apparently.

“What happened to you?”

Gardner opens his mouth to respond, but he can’t bring himself to say anything. It all feels so real. It was always real, of course, but sitting in this brightly lit kitchen, full of warmth and family and a lot of things he no longer has, and having to actually say, out loud, what’s happened? It’s all just so much. So, Gardner just lets out a few choked little sobs and looks back down at his hand instead.

Calvin is still hovering, clearly worried, but luckily Mrs. Benson returns at this point, carrying alcohol and bandages and Polysporin. She quickly gets to work tending to Gardner’s wounds, and no one says a word, the room quiet except for Gardner’s intake of breath at the sting of the alcohol.

When his wound is properly bandaged, Mrs. Benson looks up at Gardner, and he feels like he has to face her. Calvin’s since taken a seat at the table, and he watches the two intently.

“Gardner, sweetie, what’s happened?”

Gardner starts to answer, but as simple as it is to say “my parents left me”, his head feels incredibly fuzzy, and he can’t organize his thoughts. Besides, if he gives her the answer, it will only lead to so many more questions. He needs to eat something first. Drink something. Try to get himself back together.

“Could I have something to drink, please? Maybe some juice?” he adds. He can’t think of where he’s remembering it from—not that it matters too much right now—but there’s a part of him that knows he should get some sugar in his body to make up for the blood loss.

“Of course, hon. Is orange juice okay?”

Gardner almost nods, and then thinks better of it. “Yes, that’s great.”

“Is there anything else you’d like?” Mrs. Benson adds as she heads to the fridge. “We have some cookies.”

Not exactly the best dinner, but better than nothing, so Gardner quickly gives his assent. “Yes, please.”

While Mrs. Benson pours Gardner’s juice, Calvin watches him intently. Gardner keeps his eyes on his hand while he waits. He needs to drink something first, eat something first, before he can do this. Even then, it’s iffy.

“Here you go,” Mrs. Benson says, setting down a glass of orange juice and a plate of some store-bought cookies in front of Gardner. He immediately picks up the glass and drinks about half of it before starting in on a cookie.

“So, Gardner,” Mrs. Benson starts. She seems a bit nervous to pose her question, and considering Gardner’s already brushed it off twice, he can’t blame her apprehension. He quickly finishes his cookie and starts on a second one, glancing up at her as he does. His head still feels clouded, but at least he feels more confident that he won’t pass out. That’s a start. “What exactly…” she trails off for a moment. “What happened to your hand?”

Gardner sighs and takes a long sip of juice. “When I got home, after school, the house was empty. Completely empty,” he adds. “Everything was gone, except for my stuff. Every trace of my parents had just disappeared.” Mrs. Benson’s eyes are wide with shock, and the concern on her face brings a few tears to Gardner’s eyes. He focuses back down on his hand. “So… I sat in my room, and I just felt… a lot, and at one point I just got so mad, and my reflection was just so crazy, before I knew what was happening, I’d punched the mirror.”

“They just left?” she asks, and Gardner can swear she has a hint of anger of her own in her voice.

Gardner shrugs. He feels like his emotions are precariously balanced and he doesn’t want to get set off again. “I guess so,” is all he says in return, picking the chocolate chips out of a cookie and eating them.

“Oh sweetheart.” Mrs. Benson stands and wraps her arms around Gardner. It’s a nice gesture, but it reminds him of his own mother, and soon he’s crying again. He’d thought for a moment that maybe he had no more than a few small tears left, but here it is, real, full-on ugly crying, once again, and he’s not sure if it’s going to stop—if it’s ever going to stop, or if this is just his life from now on, a constant, drowning sadness that threatens to swallow him whole, intercut with periods of violent anger and the occasional trap of feeling calm—so he just leans into it, but he’s feeling so much, feeling too much and he kind of just wants to sleep for the next 5 years, and then maybe after that he’ll finally be okay.

Except that he won’t be. He’ll never be okay because his parents clearly don’t love him and how do you get over that? The only people in the world who are always supposed to be there for you, to love you unconditionally and to take care of you and they didn’t want to do that and now they’re gone and how is Gardner ever meant to do anything more than cry about that?

Gardner’s breathing is becoming more and more laboured. He doesn’t feel like he can catch his breath, feels like the more he tries the less he’s able to, until eventually he’s just going to suffocate. He’s acutely aware that he’s probably hyperventilating, maybe having some sort of panic attack, and he needs to get a grip, but he just can’t do it, and he’s mad at himself for not being able to, but he can’t. He can’t fix this.

“Gardner.” He’s suddenly aware of Mrs. Benson’s voice, breaking through his sobs. “Gardner, please, deep breaths,” she coaches. He tries, but he’s still not sure if he’s getting there or not. The room suddenly feels so tiny, like it’s closing in around him. “You just need to slow your breathing,” she tells him. She no longer has her arms around Gardner but is now kneeling in front of him. She demonstrates how to take a proper breath, and Gardner attempts to follow along. After a few of these he’s back to breathing normally, though he hasn’t exactly stopped crying. Mrs. Benson stays there, rubbing his back, for however long it takes him to actually stop crying, if not for good then at least for a little bit. Then she stands up and looks down at him. “Do you want me to make you anything? Did you have dinner?” Gardner shakes his head. “Alright…” she glances back at the kitchen, searching for something. “Um… what do you think of a sandwich? Would that be nice? I could do ham and cheese, or peanut butter and jam.”

“Ham and cheese sounds nice,” Gardner tells her, and she smiles.

“Great,” she says. “And I’ll get you some more orange juice too,” she adds, grabbing the empty cup before heading back to the fridge.

“Gardner?” Calvin asks. Gardner had almost forgotten that he was even there.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. That’s a really shitty thing to have happen. You don’t deserve this.”

“Thank you,” Gardner says. It’s a nice bit of reassurance to have. Although at least if he had done something to deserve it, he might understand why it was happening, be able to trace it to something he had actively done to ruin things. As is, the idea that it wasn’t his fault, that nothing he could have done would’ve stopped this… it just makes him feel so powerless.

They sit in silence after that. Calvin seems a bit uncomfortable with the whole situation, and Gardner honestly prefers not to talk about it right now. Or maybe ever. Who knows? Maybe one day he’ll be able to talk about it a lighter, detached sort of way. But not right now.

“Here we go,” Mrs. Benson calls, placing a sandwich in front of Gardner, along with his glass of orange juice.

“Thank you,” he tells her, taking a bite of the sandwich. For a second, he kind of feels like his stomach is going to reject it, but he chews slowly and he’s slowly able to kind of ride out that feeling of sickness.

“So, Gardner, of course you’ll take the guest room tonight, but I just want to let you know that you are welcome to stay with us as long as you like. Or else… I don’t know if you have any family you’d like to me to call?”

Gardner shakes his head and takes another bite. “It was really just me and my parents. All of my other family’s out of state, and I don’t even really know them.” Gardner keeps his voice as steady as he can, and has to admit he’s pretty proud of how calmly he manages that information.

“Then you’ll live with us, of course,” Mrs. Benson says brightly. Gardner isn’t sure how he feels about that statement—he really doesn’t want to be a burden, and especially to make them deal with him just because his parent didn’t want to—but he figures that’s a conversation for when it’s not almost midnight. He thinks back to his parents’ boat. If worst comes to worst, maybe he could just live there. He likes boats. Of course, he’s not exactly sure if the reminder of them would be more comforting or heart-wrenching. Another conversation for later, he supposes. For now, Gardner just nods and focuses on his sandwich. He’s felt tired for a while, but it suddenly hits him that he’s exhausted, the side effect of feeling so many emotions all in one day.

“I’m sorry that this happened to you, Gardner,” Mrs. Benson adds. She sweeps a bit of Gardner’s hair out of his face; the bangs are constantly falling in his eyes. “But I want you to know that we are here for you, alright? We’re going to take care of you. You’ll be okay.”

Yet another tear slides down Gardner’s cheek, but it seems to be all his body can manage at the moment. He nods his appreciation to Mrs. Benson and finishes his sandwich. All he wants now is to sleep.

Calvin guides Gardner upstairs to the guest bedroom, and he simply pulls off his socks and jeans before collapsing into bed.

Gardner was worried at first that as soon as he got into bed he’d no longer be tired, but instead forced to lay awake all night, running through all the ramifications of what’s just happened, what his life is like now. Mercifully, however, that doesn’t seem to be an issue, and he’s asleep within five minutes, though his dreams are confusing, an unexplained sense of worry looming over them, and they jerk him awake every few hours, though he quickly falls back asleep each time. It may not be the best sleep he’s ever had—or anywhere close—but it’s something, at least, and his body seems pretty grateful for that when he finally pulls himself out of bed the next day, the bedside clock announcing that it’s around noon.

When Gardner enters the Benson’s kitchen, he finds Mrs. Benson sitting alone at the table, drinking some tea. As soon as she notices Gardner she jumps up, offering to make him some breakfast, whatever he’d like. Gardner doesn’t want to put her out too much, so he just asks for cereal, and she returns a moment later with a bowl and some milk.

“So, Cal and his father had to go out for a little bit, but I thought after you had your breakfast that the two of us could get gather the rest of your things?”

“Sounds good,” Gardner replies, even though there are about a million different reasons that the proposal does not, in fact, sound that good. Namely that the idea of facing that house again makes his heart start to speed up, but Gardner does still need his clothes, and he wouldn’t feel right about Mrs. Benson buying him new ones.

“Great,” Mrs. Benson gives Gardner a bright smile. She really is the sweetest woman, and Gardner’s beyond thankful for that.

After Gardner finishes his breakfast and changes into a different outfit, he and Mrs. Benson make their way back to his house. Or his former house, Gardner mentally corrects himself. Each of them carries a few moving boxes with them to help pack up his stuff. It’s been decided that they’ll remove the furniture once Mr. Benson is available to help them, but since there’s already furniture in the Benson’s guest room, Gardner tells Mrs. Benson just to do whatever she wants with the old stuff. She seems sad at this dismissal of his belongings, but eventually formulates a plan to sell the furniture and give him whatever money they get, so that he can have a little bit of cash for himself. Gardner likes that idea a lot, liking the small amount of control it gives him in his own life, a little bit of independence to take care of himself.

As Gardner makes his way through the house, he can just feel Mrs. Benson’s shock behind him, the way that she keeps looking around at the empty space. While they don’t need to pass through the living room to reach Gardner’s room, she wanders in anyway, and Gardner can literally feel the outrage radiating off of her as she takes in the pictures on the wall. After taking them in for a moment she starts pulling them all down, snapshots of Gardner throughout his life so far. Gardner when he was maybe 8 or 9, dressed in a baseball jersey and beaming up at the camera, a few of his teeth missing; Gardner as a baby, wearing a onesie and cuddling a stuffed bear; Gardner at the beginning of this school year, hair falling across his forehead and covering one of his eyes. She carefully places them all into a box before moving back onto their mission.

“You know…” Gardner starts nervously. “You really don’t have to take those.”

Mrs. Benson gives him a sad look. “I’d like to, Gardner. Besides, if you’re going to be staying with us, it only feels right to have a few reminders of you throughout the house. Make you a real part of the family.”

Gardner works very hard not to start crying at that, and just barely manages to succeed. He’s so sick of crying.

Mrs. Benson audibly gasps when they reach Gardner’s room, despite the fact that he’d tried to prepare her beforehand for the state it’d been left in. Broken glass glitters in the light pouring in from the window, some of it smudged and stained with his blood, which has since dried into flaky brown spots dotting the floor and the desk. Gardner’s hand aches a bit as he thinks about what happened there the day before.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about the mess,” he says.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I understand,” she tells him, and she kneels down to start cleaning up the mess. She’d packed a little hand broom and dustpan when Gardner had mentioned the glass earlier, and she uses it to clear the floor.

“I can do it, if you want,” Gardner offers. “It was my fault, after all.”

Mrs. Benson smiles at him and stands up. “Thank you, sweetie. It is a bit rough on my knees.” She hands him the broom and dustpan. “I’ll get started on the closet, alright?”

Gardner nods, and sets to work sweeping up the glass. Normally he might find it to be rather boring work, but right now the simplicity is calming, and even the scrape of bits of glass against the floor is somewhat soothing.

Once Gardner’s cleaned up the glass the best he can, he dumps the shards into a garbage bag that Mrs. Benson brought with her and starts placing books into a box. By the time he’s finished, Mrs. Benson has managed to carefully fold and pack all of his clothes, and has started packing away some of his miscellaneous belongings. The total comes to about 5 boxes, none of them all that big. It’s a little bit sad to look at his life that way, narrowed down to 5 small boxes. He grabs a box and starts carrying it down to the car, trying to ignore the thought.

Once everything’s packed up and Gardner’s sitting in the car, he notices the boat again, still sitting in the driveway. “Oh!” He turns to Mrs. Benson. “The boat. Um…” He’s suddenly a bit nervous to ask the question, in case Mrs. Benson doesn’t want a giant boat sitting in her driveway. Gardner briefly considers if it would be a good idea to ask her to help him sell it, but as nice as the money would be, he thinks he wants the boat itself more. It’s a reminder of his parents’ broken promises, yes, but it’s also got a lot of good memories behind it. “Do you think we could move it to your house too?”

“It’s important to you?” she asks. She seems a bit shocked.

Gardner nods. “Very.”

“Then of course, sweetie. We’ll get it later when we come back for the furniture.”

Gardner smiles. “Thank you.”

Gardner settles in pretty easily after that. The Bensons are incredibly kind, and basically treat him like another son. It’s nice to live with Calvin, too. They’re both only children, and the feeling of having a brother is incredible to both of them.

Gardner still wakes up from awful dreams some nights, confused about the exact content, but feeling incredibly unsettled. Overall though, things are going rather well. He feels peaceful here, and accepted. It’s still hard, sometimes, thinking about his parents, how they left him. But it’s getting a lot easier. He even talks about them sometimes with Calvin, reminiscing on things they did together, and he mostly doesn’t cry anymore. Occasionally it gets to him, usually sneaking up when he least expects it, so that one minute he’s fine and the next he’s crying so hard he can barely breathe, but the Bensons are very supportive, and he’s getting better at calming himself down.

Gardner waits about three months before he finally goes out to the boat. The cabin is just how he remembered it, with a little kitchen area, some seating, a bed, and a few random books lining the shelves. It’s nice in there, and it reminds him of how things used to be, when he would sleep out there in the warmer weather. Gardner hasn’t realized how much he missed that until he’s sitting on the bed, staring around at the achingly familiar surroundings. As grateful as he is to the Bensons for taking him in, he has to say admit that he hasn’t exactly gotten used to his new room. He’s decorated it with the things from his old room, but it just doesn’t feel the same. It doesn’t feel like it’s his.

This boat, on the other hand, is his. A place that really feels his own.

After that first visit, Gardner starts bringing some of his stuff out to the boat, slowly filling it with his belongings. He leaves a few things behind in his bedroom inside, but the majority of his belongings end up the boat, including maybe half his wardrobe.

Gardner also starts sleeping in the boat more, rather than staying inside the house. The first time Mrs. Benson realizes this she seems a bit alarmed, but Gardner tells her that it helps him sleep better, and as much as she seems to want to argue it, she lets him have this. People have been gentler around him lately. He’s not sure how to feel about that, but in the cause of being allowed to sleep in the boat, but decides to just embrace it.

It takes a while, rebuilding, and healing. But the Bensons are there for him, kind and caring and embracing him with their love. And eventually, Gardner starts to think that he might just be okay. Maybe.

#dear sidewalk #joe mazzello #dear sidewalk fanfic #joe mazzello fanfic #gardner langway

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enthusiastic-sarcastic · 5 years ago

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wow the seasonal depression is really hitting today 😂 Do you guys have any fanfics that you’ve recently read and would recommend to me? I would very much appreciate it cuz I need a nice distraction 😅❤️

#lexi rambles #fanfic recs #borhap #queen #bill hader #the beatles #tim murphy #gardner langway #and the list goes on and on

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deanscroissant · 5 years ago

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j.m. one-shot request (3)

Request: @johndeaconlover Hi! How are you? If you do not accept such a request, you may send me the answer privately. Well, although I haven't seen it yet Dear Sidewalk, but I've read some fanfic, Gardner is a cinnamon muffin. Anyway, could you write something about him based on Taylor Swift's song, Lover? With a little smut, I'm very thirsty for it! Please, thanks for your attention! Xxxx

A/n: So sorry this took me so long. I really, really, really hope I fulfilled your wishes. This is my first time writing smut, so don’t come @ me if it sucks lol. If I’ve made any mistakes I apologize in advance. Hope you like it and whoever reads this. Feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

Warnings: fluff, a pinch of angst, and smut (18+)

Word count: 1590

Gardner Langway, the man that used to be a stranger to you now your husband. Last month, in April, was when you two tied the knot and since then you’ve been the happiest woman alive. It seemed like you knew him for years when you first met him. It was like rekindling a friendship you once had.

When Gardner showed up at you front door as your new mail carrier two years ago you instantly fell head over heels for him. He was different. It was something about him that you couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe it was how shy he was when you communicated. He didn’t talk much at first and you wanted to get to know him more, so you tried for a while to build up the courage to ask him out for coffee or a walk at least.

But little did you know that Gardner was doing the same behind closed doors. When he first met you he wanted to kiss you right then and there. Your beauty was captivating, but he didn’t seem worthy of being with you. You were way out of his league. He shouldn’t even bother trying.

But a few days later Gardner mastered shoving the negative thoughts away, all by the help of Calvin, who knew something was up with him the minute he came in the house for dinner that night. Gardner was being in denial, not wanting Calvin to know about his attraction to someone he didn’t know for a least a month.

And here he was, standing frozen at your doorsteps, anxiety taking over his state of mind. He ran his sweaty palms down his denim-covered thighs as his breathing hitched. “Just do it.” he whispered. He gulped and closed his eyes and counted to ten slowly before he reached to ring the doorbell.

Meanwhile, you were upstairs getting ready to go over to his house. You sat at your vanity putting on your favorite lip gloss when you hear your doorbell ring. You weren’t expecting anyone today, so you wonder who it could be. When you open your door, there stood the person who stole your heart. He was clearly nervous. You didn’t even need to ask what he was doing here because you just knew what he was going to ask you. So with a blushing smile, you say, “Yes. I would love to.”

From then on the rest was history. You two were inseparable. You did not want to let him go. He was a drug you couldn’t get enough of. The more you were around each other, the more open you began to be with each other. You seem to fall more and more in love with him every time you saw him. You would gush over the little things he would do or say. You’d die of laughter when you would tell him a joke and he would think you were actually being serious, or when he would tell a corny joke and you would try to act like it wasn’t funny, but end up laughing anyways. You loved learning about his favorite hobbies, his favorite foods, books, what he likes and doesn't like, everything.

You cherish those moments with him. But the memory that stood out the most was when he proposed to you a year later on your anniversary date. You were at the park having a picnic when he popped the question. Everyone who was around watching were so happy for you two when you said yes. You couldn’t stop crying or laughing because you couldn’t believe you were going to marry your soulmate.

Immediately after the proposal Gardner moved in with you. You asked him about the boat he lived in and he wanted to keep it, but he didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t want it sitting in front of his brother’s house, so you told him to just keep it and move it to the backyard.

It took you months to plan the wedding. You both wanted a small wedding with your family and Gardner’s friends and his brother. It was hard trying to find a venue since it was the only thing putting y’all behind. But you ended up finding one, which was way out of town about two hours away. But you didn’t care. It was perfect and it was worth stressing over.

After the ceremony you left for your honeymoon to the Grand Canyon. You wanted to surprise Gardner about visiting the Grand Canyon because all his life he dreamt of being there, so you were more than glad to fulfill that dream of his. “Okay, are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” He asked you for the fifteenth time today when the plane had landed, “I think I might combust if you don’t tell me.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at how he was looking with the blindfold you told him to wear, “You’ll see when you get off the plane, Gardner, for the hundredth time!”

And when he finally took off the blindfold when you told him to, he couldn’t contain his excitement. You saw a side of him that you haven’t seen before which definitely surprised you. He was acting a fool from the airport all the way to the hotel. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy watching him fangirl about being in the same state as the Grand Canyon.

You’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the kisses he was giving you on the way there. It was oddly turning you on seeing him like this. When you and Gardner finally confessed your love to one another was when you two had sex for the first time. You weren’t a virgin, and Gardner wasn’t either and it honestly shocked you when he told you the story.

But it was the best sex you’ve ever had, and since then you couldn’t take your hands off of each other. You happen to look down at Gardner to see a bulge in his pants, “Mmm,” you bit your lip as Gardner kissed down your neck, trying not to moan loud so the Uber driver could hear you, “I should surprise you more often.”

“I would be totally down for that.” he murmured and lightly bit down on the soft flesh of skin. As much as you were enjoying this you had to push him away, “Baby, wait until we don’t have company to do this.” you said softly with a giggle so the driver couldn’t hear.

But Gardner wasn’t having it. He started pouting and pulled you closer into him, burying his face into your neck, “I need you.”

“We’re almost there.” you wrap your arms around him while kissing the side of his head, “Then we can have as much time as we want with each other.”

*********

Gardner crawled back up from paying special attention in between your legs and lined himself at your entrance, “Are you ready, baby doll?”

Being high off of your last orgasm you nodded lazily, wrapping your arms and legs around him as you lick your lips, “Yeah. Please, Gardner..”

Gardner nods and slowly enters you. Your eyes flutter close and a soft moan escape your lips. Gardner whimpers into your neck and slowly pulls out, then back in rhythm. Your nails drag down his back as Gardner pulled away from your neck to kiss you deeply. This was what home felt like. Gardner was your home. You two belonged to be molded together, to explore each other and to love each other in different ways.

You whimpered into the kiss before pulling away to catch your breath. Gardner rests his forehead against yours as he stares into your eyes, those gorgeous eyes that he gets lost in every time you look at him. He moves your legs up more to deepen his thrusts before quickening his pace. Your moans became louder as so his pants. He was getting close. He could also feel you getting closer as you clench around his length.

“Baby, I’m gunna cum.” you breathed out before sucking on his neck, which made Gardner begin to tremble. “F-fuck, me too.” he says. He reaches for your hands and pins them above you to lace his fingers with yours. Your core begins to tighten, and after a few thrusts you cum as you clench hard around his dick and your legs and arms tighten around him. Gardner’s thrusts falter and cums deep inside you, a mixture of moans and whimpering against your neck.

You both lay in each other’s embrace as you listen to Gardner’s heartbeat while he softly taps his fingers against your arm with a content smile. Your other hand was laced with his that was placed on his chest, which he would give kisses to it ever so often. This moment was so special to Gardner. He’d never thought he would live to get married. He’d never thought someone would love him as much as you did. He thought the people he knew a long time ago was supposed to love him, watch him grow up, be a family with him, and stay in his life until the day he died. But he has you now to make up for all of that. He wouldn’t even trade you to get any of it back.

You couldn’t believe this magnetic force of a man was now yours, and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello x y/n #requests #my post #gardner langway #gardner langway x reader #gardner langway smut #joe mazzello smut #dear sidewalk

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justapurrcat · 5 years ago

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Updated Masterlist~

Fics to Love and Appreciate

Extremely wonderful fics wrote by extremely talented people, simple as that.

… yes, they’re all about Joe Mazzello and his characters. I’m a Joe girl. I’m sorry. Or maybe not.

Series

Joe Mazzello

All is Merry and Bright – @crazylittlethingcalledobsession

Just Go With It – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

My Sweet Lord – @ursoself-satisfying

Natural Selection – Holy Spirit – @mrbenhardys

On the Frontline – @justasupersonicwoman

Stress Relief – @a-night-at-the-0pera

Virtues Uncounted – @a-night-at-the-0pera

Eugene Sledge

Sincerely Yours – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

Gardner Langway

A Bit of Sunshine – @for-my-life-still-ahead-pity-me

Anchored, But Irradiated – Role Reversal – @gotboredwrote

Unconditionally – @ladyfogg

Pat Murray

Cold is the Night – @ladyfogg

paper rings: a series – @patmvrray

One-shots and Headcanons

Joe Mazzello

baseball – @almightygwil

make you mine – @almightygwil

Moving Day – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

Oranges – @rogerina-yee-haw

Sex Ed – @deakyfordays

The Mistletoe Plan – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

Your Former A-hole Friend – @spacedustmazzello

Eugene Sledge

Dance With Me? – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

Dog Tags – @brian-roger-deaky-and-fred

The Lily of Death Valley – @gotboredwrote

Gardner Langway

1600 Kismet Avenue – @gotboredwrote

Long Away – @marielle-heller

Mouse

Of Mice and Men – @writeyourownlifestory

Pat Murray

Never Have I Ever – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

A Whole Lotta Love – @ursoself-satisfying

Love With Its Back Turned – @gardnerlangway

Tim Murphy

Six Questions – @gotboredwrote

Jungle Love – @39-seas-of-rhye

#joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello x reader #eugene sledge fanfic #eugene sledge x reader #gardner langway fanfic #gardner langway x reader #gardner langway x oc #morris mouse sanderson fanfic #morris mouse sanderson x reader #pat murray fanfic #pat murray x reader #pat murray x oc #tim murphy fanfic #tim murphy x reader #selfreblog

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borhap-au · 4 years ago

Text

Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

A blue day.

It took a lot from you to actually get up from the bed and check your phone after you heard several messages coming in. For you, it was one of the blue days. You were strong, trying to deal with everything, but it kept piling up and finally it was too much. It just overwhelmed you. You spent the entire day in bed, under your blanket, without caring to change your clothes from yesterday or wash your hair. You just physically couldn’t make yourself do it. So when you saw a few messages from Joe, saying he’s going to come to your house in the evening, you immediately panicked. You didn’t want him to see the mess that was your room, or the mess you were that day. You didn’t expect anyone who didn’t struggle with depression to understand what you’ve been going through. You knew a lot of them would never do anyway. For some of them, you had everything they wished they had. But it was just the surface. Sure, among other things, you had a handsome, caring boyfriend, who was just a dream come true. But in all honestly, despite the fact you loved him very much, you couldn’t really gave all of yourself to that relationship. You were full of fear caused by the depression – you were scared that you weren’t good enough for him, that he was just wasting his time with you, that he was a source of jokes because he had such an “awful” (in your mind) girlfriend. You thought that either he’s going to realize how unfortunate he is to end up with you and leave, or he’s going to get stuck with you forever and be unhappy. Either of those broke your heart. So what you couldn’t admit to Joe, but what you had considered in the past, was deleting yourself from his life. You thought that’s the only way for him to let go of the burden and finally be happy. You never said that out loud, but Joe was suspecting it might’ve crossed your mind. So when you sent him an emoji of a blue heart (a code you had, for telling him you’re having one of the blue days, but you love him and don’t want him to be worried, that you just need some time alone) he wasn’t planning to leave you to your own devices. Especially since was scared you would choose a razor blade.

Joe understood your struggle, at least from a perspective of a person who wasn’t dealing with similar problems himself. He was the second person you were the most open and honest with, right after your therapist. He knew you, the real you, and he loved you for who you were, which was almost completely unbelievable and impossible to you. It took you a long time to open up to him, but when you finally did, you felt a bit better – especially after he didn’t leave you, he kept coming back, talking to you, trying to help you. He was good at finding “small” solutions – things you usually did for a few hours, but they had a lasting effect, with you going even as long as a week without having bad, overwhelming thoughts. He bought you an aquarium with several different species of fish, since you loved animals. Observing them made you feel peaceful. He also took you on a road trip, where you could cut yourself from everyday life and have some vitamins from the shining sun. He made you laugh by having various funny and sometimes weird ideas. He let you put make up on him to practice, you both used colorful foam to make your hair have crazy colors for a few days. You sometimes pranked people together. He overall could just make you laugh, which at times was almost impossible. You usually didn’t fake anything around him, and that was really important and refreshing for you. But as it is with depression, after the good days come the bad days, and today was unfortunately one of the latter. You sighed quietly when you saw his text back.

“I’ll come anyway. I just missed my girl too much,” you put your phone away and almost cried as you began to clean up your room. It was just too much for you. You felt helpless and unable to do the simplest tasks, the emotional pain was taking over the control of your body. You sat on the floor, trying to come up with any excuse that would persuade Joe not to come. You didn’t feel that bad in ages. You knew you will have to fake your happiness not to concern him, but today it felt like too much to ask from you. You just didn’t want to pretend.

Before you came up with anything that could make Joe stay at home tonight, he was already at your door. He knocked on it, and you jumped surprised and scared. After a second of bringing yourself together, you told him to come in.

“Hey… Your mom let me in,” you nodded hearing that. You looked down. Didn’t want him to see the make-up you had on from the previous day, or that your eyeliner was all over your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess. You were wearing just a simple tracksuit. You had no energy to get up, so he sat next to you.

“Please, don’t. I stink,” you muttered quietly, moving away from him. Only then you saw that little teddy bear he was holding in hand.

“It doesn’t bother me. Here, I brought you a present,” he gave you the teddy bear and you took it, looking at it carefully. It had a little sweater on, with your and his initials in a heart. You had to admit, it was cute.

“Thank you, it’s lovely. But please, don’t come closer. It may not bother you, but it does bother me,” you muttered quietly again, softly cuddling the toy to your chest. He nodded his head.

“So we’ll start with a bath, how about that?” he smiled and you looked at him with a visible exhaustion in your eyes. He knew you wanted him to go, but he just couldn’t let you be all alone when you were in such a state. He wanted you to feel his presence, his support. You knew he wasn’t going anywhere, so you slowly nodded your head, without saying a word. He got up and went to the bathroom that was attached to your room. He started preparing the bath.

You looked at the teddy bear again. His fur was really soft, and he was all white. You were planning to call him Joey, as it was your favorite nickname for your boyfriend, and you wanted to always have a Joey to hug at night. Soon after that, Joe came back to you.

“May I?” he asked, and when you didn’t object, he picked you up. You left the toy behind, on the floor. Joe took you to the bathroom and make you stand on a rug, while he began to help you undress. There was nothing sexual about it, on the contrary, it was almost as if he was a parent helping his child out after a long, exhausting day. He looked after you with care and protection. It gave you a sense of security.

After your clothes were already in the laundry basket, he helped you to get in the bath. He himself sat on a small stool next to the bathtub. The first thing he did was taking care of your yesterday’s make up, by washing it off. You didn’t like your bare face, but he actually loved it. He gently pet your cheek, but when you didn’t look at him, he took his hand away, not to do something you may not like. Then he took a sponge and began to wash your body with a shower gel. You were hardly feeling it. You felt like you were drifting away, like you were somewhere else, under the water, while your body stayed there with Joe. He felt you disconnecting.

“Hey, beautiful,” he kissed your temple. “Where are you now?” he asked, smiling slightly. You looked at him and tried to smile back.

“Right here, with you,” you put your hand on his and began to softly pet it.

“If you want to get anything off your chest, I’m here to listen,” he reassured you.

“Thank you, honey. But not today. Today I don’t have the strength to talk,” you explained to him, and you knew you’d understand without questioning it.

“Darling… I don’t want you to be mad at me for asking this question, but I have to make sure. Were you taking your pills?” he looked at you with concern, trying to find any way he could help you.

“Yes,” you nodded your head. “They just made my dose a little smaller… Apparently it’s a bit too early for that,” you answered him honestly.

“We will make sure they bring back the right dose. I’m glad you’ve been taking your pills, honey. I’m really proud of you,” he pet your head. “Always remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you,” you looked at him and gave him a little smile.

“Thank you, Joey. I don’t know where I would be without you,” you muttered and held his hand, because you needed to feel his presence. He got the message.

“Do you need a hug?” you nodded your head and he cuddled you, petting your back. You liked everything about hugging Joe. His warmth, the smell of his perfume, his closeness. He held you for as long as you needed, he wouldn’t dare to break out of a hug first, knowing how much you needed it. So after some time you broke out of it, because otherwise you would stay in his arms forever. Not that you minded that.

“I love you,” you whispered so he could barely hear it. But he knew you meant it.

“I love you too. So, so much. You’re like my own personal piece of sunshine. I want to be with you forever,” there was an actual honesty in his words. There was something about him that just made you want to believe him, even on the days you didn’t believe yourself. “Did you sleep well tonight?” he asked with care.

“I barely slept at all, I kept on waking up,” you sighed quietly. Bags under your eyes were a proof of that.

“Are you having nightmares?” he held your hand now, petting it with this thumb.

“All kinds, the worst kinds,” you answered.

“What about meals, did you eat?” you shook your head.

“Mom brought me something earlier, but I couldn’t take a smallest bite without feeling like puking,” you explained to him and he kissed your shoulder.

“So how about I’ll make you something? Remember when we made pizza together? It was nice, wasn’t it?” he smiled, trying to make you remember the better days, and make you feel better. It really was a nice day, the pizza day he mentioned. It was when your mom had a girls night out and he stayed with you. You cooked a pizza together, making a huge mess, but it was fun. And the pizza was delicious, despite the fact it looked absolutely awful.

“After the bath?” you asked, looking at him. He nodded with a big smile.

“Yes, after the bath. I’ll make you anything you want. And then we’ll watch your favorite Disney movie. Would you like that?” you nodded your head slowly. “So we will. Now come on, tilt your head back. We need to make your hair wet.”

When he was washing your hair, you calmed down a little bit. His touch, his fingers running through your hair, his gentle massage, all made you feel a bit better. Later he helped you get out of the bath and dried your body up with a towel.

When you came back to your bedroom, you began to brush your hair, while he was drying it with a hair dryer. The warm air filled up the room and made you feel better. After that, you put some actual clothes on instead of a pajama in case your mother was in the kitchen. Yes, you were an adult, but still, it would be quiet uncomfortable to expose the fact you were just naked around your boyfriend like that. Even though your mom actually liked Joe. She saw the good impact he had on you.

While in the kitchen, Joe started off on his own, trying to make some traditional Italian pasta from a recipe he found on the internet. But when you saw him struggle, you soon joined his effort, so now you struggled together. You chuckled as you were trying to make something out of the things that you had, instead of those that were actually in the recipe. Joe was cracking jokes all the time, and it actually helped you forget for a little while. You focused entirely on him.

When you finished, you went and had a dinner on the balcony, talking about stars, cosmos, and people passing by on the street. Joe wrapped a blanket around you to make sure you won’t get cold. He asked you about how you felt and kept on reminding you that you’re valid and important for him and if you ever needed him, he’s there. Then you came back to his room and watched the Disney movie he suggested earlier. Before the ending, you were already yawning.

After all of that, late at night, he suggested he should come back home, but at this point you didn’t want him to go, so you persuaded him to stay. You felt better falling asleep in his arms, and he held you tightly, petting your back. The Joey bear was lying next to you on the pillow.

The last words you heard from your Joe before falling asleep was always “I love you,” whether it was through a text, call or in person. Tonight was no different.

“Sleep well, honey. I love you,” was the words you heard from him while you already were half-asleep from all the day’s exhaustions. You had a feeling that this night will be better than the previous one. And you sure hoped that if you had a nightmare, Joe would appear in your dream to save you, just like he protected you in real life.

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borhap-au · 5 years ago

Text

Sub!Joe. Testing the waters.

Since you started having sex with Joe, you did it mostly in the missionary position, except those few times when you did it on the bathroom countertop or in the kitchen. The sex was great, you never complained, Joe gave you basically everything you needed, but you had a feeling he wanted to try something else. Yet anytime he got around to suggest a new thing, he backed out, as if he was embarrassed of what he was going to say and always changed the subject. You grew more and more curious, not only because you were interested in what he was hiding, but also because you genuinely wanted to give him the kind of pleasure he needed. So one time when you were sitting on the couch watching TV, you pulled yourself together to start the conversation. You took the remote and turned the TV off, which usually meant you were about to get intimate, so Joey smiled to you and got closer, but you stopped him, leaving him leaning towards you with a surprised face.

“In a second, okay, honey? I want to talk to you about something” you said looking at him carefully, while he gave you a confused look.

“Is everything okay?” he had to ask to make sure while looking you in the eyes and hoping to see the answers he needed. You nodded and smiled slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, it is. I just wanted to ask you about something” you softly pet his hand and he smiled to you, encouraging you to continue.

“Go on then” he held your hand, having literally no idea what topic you’ve planned to start.

“Um…” you stopped for a few seconds, trying to remember the best way to ask this question that you came up with earlier. “Do you have maybe… Like a sexual fantasy or kink you didn’t tell me about yet? Like something you maybe don’t know if you like, because you never tried it before? Just something you’d like to try out but maybe you’re embarrassed to ask or something like that. I mean, I just want you to know I’m your safe place, and I wouldn’t make fun of you, or make you feel bad about it in any way. I want you to trust me the way I trust you” you smiled slightly to give him assurance and comfort. He looked at you carefully when you were saying all of that and then looked down to considerate what he was about to tell you and slowly nodded his head.

“I have something actually… Um… You know how I’m always on top? Maybe you’d like to change the position sometimes or something like that? Just so you know, we can bring some freshness to our sex life and not go for the routine. Unless you like that and that’s what you’re comfortable with, then it’s completely fine, because I like our sex life and I love you and I think you’re amazing and-“

“Joe, do you want to be submissive?” you interrupted his monologue, because he started going round in circles with his declaration.

“Yes” he said without hesitation, as if he was relieved you suggested that and he didn’t have to say it himself. So you were right, there was something, and he really was embarrassed to admit it. You weren’t surprised, since a lot of men still thought that being submissive is emasculating and that a man should never allow a woman to take the lead in bed, because traditionally it was the other way around. Not that Joe believed in that sexist bullshit, but maybe he was afraid of his friends’ reactions if they ever found out. Men were weird when it came to stuff like that.

“Okay, so we know what to do next” you smiled showing him you’re completely fine with it. He sighed relieved and smiled back. “Do you want to try it out now, or do you need some time?” you asked to make sure.

“Oh, it’s all okay. We can do it now” you nodded and he sat closer to kiss you. You kissed him back, but when his hands began to wonder around your zipper, you stopped him.

“My way, remember?” you smiled and he nodded. You could sense he was thrilled. “Come on, up” you both got up from the couch and you took his hand, leading him to the bedroom. He pet your hand with his thumb and involuntarily bit his lip, unable to hide his excitement.

You made him sit on the bed and sat right next to him, smiling. You helped him take his shirt off, but he didn’t make a move to remove any of your pieces of clothing – he tried to be patient, as he was slowly getting used to the new experience, where he had to wait for your permission. You made him lay down and got on him, softly kissing his chest and assuring him of your affection. You were always tender in bed – you both were. Even at the times when you did it more roughly, the aftercare became more “intense” to make sure you both felt good and comfortable. You would stay longer in each other’s arms, even saying nothing, just petting each other’s bodies and planting soft kisses on one another.

You liked it when you rested your head on his chest and he was breathing heavily, you liked when he was all hot because of you. You liked what you were able to do to him and you loved the fact he allowed you to search the territory even more now.

You kissed him softly and then looked him in the eyes.

“I think we need to set some rules first” he nodded in agreement. “How far can we take this?”

“Well, we will definitely be able to take it much further as we go… But go easy on me the first time, okay? It’s just to test the waters, try things out…” he said quite unsure of how to put his thoughts into words not to make it sound like he doesn’t trust you.

“Don’t worry, it’s just to check this whole thing out. Not to scare you off” you chuckled quietly. He smiled slightly and pet your cheek. “Can I tie your hands?” He smiled wider and nodded. You got up to take one of the ties he hasn’t been using anymore. When you picked it, you came back to bed, this time sitting on Joe. He smiled and held the bars of the bed as you tied his hands down to them. You could sense the excitement building up in him.

You leaned forward to kiss him and he eagerly kissed you back. He intuitively wanted to pet your cheek or the side of your body, but when he moved his hand he immediately understood he won’t be able to do it this time. Instead, he held the bars tighter, waiting with anticipation for your upcoming moves. While you took your kisses lower, to bestow his neck with the sweet presence of your lips, your hands began to unbutton his fly. You took your time with moving forward, teasing Joe with your slow moves. You then slowly began to kiss your way down his chest, as your hands took his trousers off his legs. You threw them away and stopped your kisses on his abdomen, where you continued with a small licks, your wet tongue combining perfectly with the hotness of his skin, as he couldn’t wait for you finally taking proper care of his cock. He raised his head looking at you, and you looked him right in the eyes, with a little smirk wandering on your lips. He felt the pressure slowly building up in his loin just from looking at you being so close to where he wanted you to be the most. But you didn’t plan to give him this satisfaction just yet.

You sat up, and annoyingly slowly took your shirt off. You then put it away and began wandering with your fingers around his chest, as if you were painting something on it. You were distracting him, changing his focus all the time, not letting him stick to just one thing at a time. You softly stroke his nipples and moves your hands down to his stomach, slightly tickling him. You then finally gifted him the view of your breasts, when you removed your brassiere. He smiled seeing them, but then again, he was not able to touch them. You raised your brow, smirking. You knew what he wanted.

You placed your legs on each side of him and leaned forward, supporting yourself on your hands. He stuck his tongue out and raised his head to reach your nipple, but anytime he came close, you moved up a little to tease him, not letting him get what he needed quite yet. You looked down and saw that he was looking at you with those eyes of a sad puppy, and you just couldn’t annoy him anymore. You leaned down so he could easily place your nipple in his mouth without raising his head, so he could be comfortable. You felt the wetness in your panties as your partner was sucking on your nipple as if it was the last source of water on earth. You closed your eyes, breathing heavily. Joe changed the breast and now was taking extra special care of your other nipple. He was just too good. He was doing more to you with just that one thing than you did to him this entire time. Or so you thought.

A little whine escaped his mouth when you moved back, prohibiting him from playing with his currently favorite toy. You then took off his boxers and removed your trousers with your underwear. You placed yourself above him, but this time in the 69 position, giving him the hope that he will be able to taste your pussy anytime soon. But it was not quite what you had planned. You made sure he was not able to reach your crotch with his lips or tongue and then leaned forward, taking his cock in your mouth and softly stroking him, making him both hard and wet at the same time. It was not a difficult task since he was already quite hard from just your teasing.

Joe was breathing heavily and a little groan escaped his mouth now and then, but in truth, he was actually very close to whining. He was never a one-side lover, he didn’t like receiving all that much when he wasn’t able to give it back to you. He liked sex to be even, with the same amount of pleasure on both sides. You never had more generous partner in your life, making this a quite unusual situation in your life, but ironically, it made you want to take care of him even more. You loved getting him off, like you got pleasure simply from seeing how happy and blissful he was after orgasm. But the view was obviously not comparable with how good he made you feel and how beautiful he looked between your legs.

“Baby girl, please… Allow me” he muttered breathing heavily, with a begging tone of voice.

“Oh, no, honey” you smiled, petting his inner thigh. “You’re the baby boy today. And you will be a good boy, who does as he’s told” your tone of voice was a mixture of unconditional love and firmness. You were not planning to allow him to taste you anytime soon, the view was just so he would get more excited dreaming of it… And obviously to tease him. A few times you got a bit lower so he could touch you with the tip of his tongue and get a little taste, and soon after you pulled back up.

After you get bored with it, you changed the position. You were now sitting completely naked between his spread legs, your hands wandering on his wet cock. Your thumb was running up and down on the most prominent vein. Sometimes your fingers went in circles around his glans. You also took some care of his balls, playing with them as Joey was breathing heavily and groaning.

When you felt he was a bit too excited, you moved your hands back and let him cool down for a few seconds. You did that a few times until he finally said, or more exactly, whined, hardly being able to hold it in, almost begging you to let him off the edge:

“I’m close…” his voice became hoarse and that turned you even more than the view of your boyfriend being a total mess under your touch. You didn’t lose your dominating position though.

“And what should you say now, honey?” he looked at you for a few seconds, not quite getting what you wanted. Then he understood.

“Can I please come, my Queen?” you smiled, liking the new title and nodded. You didn’t plan to ruin his orgasm anyway, you wanted him to really like his first experience in this field. You took him in your hand, stroking him like you usually did and it didn’t take him long to come.

He groaned loudly closing his eyes. When he was taking his time to recover, you took tissues and removed his cum from your hand and his legs. You were smiling, cause you liked it, and you sure wanted to do it again. You were hoping he liked it too.

“Princess…” you chuckled quietly hearing you came back to your usual title. His eyes were open and he was smiling. “Fuck, I loved it so much.” You weren’t expecting that reaction, so you smiled even wider. You then began to untie his hands, his wrists red from how hard he was holding onto his tie.

“I loved it too, Joey. Hope you’ll want to do this again.”

“Oh, I want to do this again. But first, let me take care of you” he sat up, put his arms around you bringing you close to him and then kissed you passionately.

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