#it's a good song! but i am not a jukebox! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pickingupmymercedes · 28 days ago

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Let it happen - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Let it happen - Gracie Abrams - @alessandrahamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: angst with hints of fluff (because apparently that's a favorite around here)

wordcount: +2k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, the kind of light that makes you forget the world can be sharp and unkind.

I blinked, rubbing the last traces of sleep from my eyes, before the familiarity of the room tugged me back to reality.

His room. His LA house.

You’d think I’d be smarter by now. But here I am, in his bed, heart in hand, ready to offer it up like a fool for the hundredth time.

I shifted under the weight of the sheets, the scent of him clinging to the air—cologne, something clean and woodsy, mixed with that hint of soap I’ve come to know too well.

We’re really doing this again, aren’t we?

I pushed myself upright, trying not to think about how easily I fell back into the shape of his life, like I never really left.

I caught sight of his sweater thrown over by the stool, my shoes kicked off somewhere near the door, evidence of another night spent tiptoeing through familiar, dangerous territory.

The house was quiet, just the faint hum of LA outside, muffled by the walls.

Maybe I should go back to sleep and hope to wake up in the right bed this time. Maybe I should grab my stuff and sneak out before he sees me. Save myself the trouble of figuring out what this is all over again.

But I pulled on his sweater without a second thought—apparently, I wasn’t done making bad decisions.

I tiptoe my way toward the kitchen, half-expecting to find him there, making one of those post-workout protein shakes he pretends taste good. But the space is empty—spotless countertops, gleaming appliances, and a bowl of perfectly arranged avocados I’m sure he didn’t buy himself.

What am I doing here?

And it’s a good question, one I’ve asked myself a million times. What the hell am I doing, letting myself get caught up in this again?

I know how this ends. We’ve been here before. Me standing in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, convincing myself that I can handle whatever this is without losing my mind.

The house still smelled like it always did, fresh coffee and the faint scent of whatever aroma he insists on using in his humidifier.

My eyes catching on little things as I passed. Roscoe’s leash on the counter, a half-read book on the couch, my own scarf tossed carelessly over the armrest. The one from the last time I was in this house.

A reminder of the life we’d built, the one we let slip through our fingers. The one I’m trying to convince myself we can build again.

Because of course, I’m always hoping, always diving back in, like there’s some magical version of reality that won’t end with both of us in pieces.

Like I can out-stubborn heartbreak this time.

I reached the sliding door to the porch, my hand hesitating over the handle. I can see him sitting on the steps, Roscoe curled up beside him, the morning sun painting him like this ethereal soul. Peaceful. At ease.

Like he wasn’t wrestling with the same mess that tangled inside me.

His hand moved absently scratching behind Roscoe’s ears, and the sight made my chest feel too tight, too full. All at once.

I hate how much I’ve missed this. Him. Us. It’s ridiculous, really.

I should have learned by now that this is what we always do. Like we’re some kind of tragic romantic who never learn when to walk away.

I slid the door open, trying to keep quiet, but the wheels rattled against the track, betraying me.

He glanced over his shoulder, and a slow smile curved his lips when he saw me. I felt my chest squeeze at the sight, and I swear I try to ignore it.

“Hey,” he says softly, like he’s afraid of breaking the quiet. “Didn’t hear you get up.”

“Yeah, well, you were busy this handsome.” I nod towards Roscoe, who’s already trotting over to me, his body dancing like we’re old friends.

I crouch down to give him a scratch behind the ears, trying to ignore the way my chest tightens when Lewis just keeps watching me, his expression open and unguarded in a way that makes me feel like I’m on the verge of falling apart.

“You want some coffee?” he offers, lifting his mug like it’s some peace offering. “There’s more inside.”

I shrug, trying to keep my voice casual. “I’ll get some in a minute.”

He nods and looks back out at the horizon, like he’s giving me space to settle into the morning. But I don’t move. I just stand there, feeling like an outsider in a place I used to know so well.

And the worst part, I’m not even sure which of us is to blame for that.

All countless nights I spent lying awake, wondering if I’d made a mistake in letting him go. Wondering if I should’ve fought harder, stayed longer, done something other than walk away before he could hurt me.

“You okay?” His voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up to find him softly watching me.

It’s a loaded question, and we both know it, but he says it like he’s genuinely hoping for a real answer.

I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, I’m—yeah. Just...thinking.”

He nodded, like he understood—like he always did. His gaze back to the yard, to the stretch of green that separated the house from the rest of LA, and I watched him in the quiet, studying the lines of his face in the early light.

The very ones I’d memorized, the ones I’d convinced myself I could forget.

But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? To forget?

Because, here I am, standing on his porch in borrowed clothes, like I’m hoping that somehow, being in his space will help me figure out if this is worth the inevitable heartbreak I know is lurking, waiting for any crack.

And it’s never really been about him hurting me, has it? It’s about me letting it happen. It’s about me choosing this—choosing him—over and over again, knowing full well how the story goes.

And … I can’t seem to stop.

It would be so much easier to walk away. To pack up my things, leave before we can fall into the same patterns that broke us the first time.

To save myself from the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters, only to feel it slip away when reality catches up.

But there’s something about him—about us—that keeps pulling me back. Like there’s a part of me that believes, against all logic and reason, that maybe this time will be different.

Lewis’s voice broke through my thoughts, low and even. “You know, you think too much.”

I let out a scoff that came out too breathy, too light. “Thanks for the insight, Dr. Hamilton. Real helpful.”

He chuckled, and it was the kind of sound that used to unravel me, back when we still believed we had time.

The kind that still does, deep down.

“It’s true, though. I can practically hear you thinking all the way over here.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” I shot back, trying for a smirk, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes.

He just hummed, and the sound settled between us, comfortable, like we’d slipped back into an old rhythm. “I know. But you don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

And there it was, that knowing tone. It dug under my skin, pricking at all the places I’d tried to keep hidden.

Because of course he’d see right through me—he always did. And that’s what terrified me the most. He knew me, maybe even better than I knew myself, and that, that made it so much harder to walk away.

I found myself crossing the porch, sinking down next to Lewis. Our shoulders brushed, a familiar pull that had a hold on me, no matter how many times I tried to tell myself I was over that.

Over him.

I glanced sideways at him, catching the way the morning light softened the edges of his face. And for a moment, I let myself wonder what he saw when he looked at me.

If he saw the same girl he fell for the first time around, or just the mess I’d become since.

“What makes you think I’m trying to figure anything out?”

He shrugged, but there was a gentle smile tugging at his lips, like he didn’t need to say it. Because he could see right through my deflection.

“I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re overthinking everything. And I know that look on your face. The one when you were convinced the whole world is falling apart.”

I let out a huff, pulling my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them. The porch creaked under my movement, and I found myself focusing on the sound, anything to distract from the way he was looking at me, like I was something fragile and precious. “Yeah, well, sometimes my world feels like it’s falling apart.”

He didn’t look away, and his silence made my skin itch, like he was waiting for me to say something more. When I didn’t, he finally spoke, voice soft, but steady. “You think I don’t get it? That I haven’t replayed all the ways we could’ve made it work if we’d just... tried?”

I swallowed, the words cutting through me. “And what makes you think trying again will be any different?”

Lewis leaned back, his shoulders brushing against the wooden steps as he considered my question. His hand drifted back to Roscoe, absently scratching behind his ears.

It was a moment before he answered, his voice rough around the edges, like he’d thought about this more times than he’d ever admit. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I don’t think it’ll be different.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. He wasn’t making promises, wasn’t offering some fairy-tale ending. He just looked at me with those steady eyes, the ones that always seemed to see right through me, right down to the parts of myself I tried to hide.

“But I do know something” he continued, and there was a weight to his words, like he was choosing them carefully. “Every time you walk away, I keep thinking, ‘What if?’ What if we just got it wrong, and we could get it right if we gave ourselves the chance?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore the hope that his words stirred up in me. “And what if we just keep hurting each other all over again? What if we’re both just too stubborn to admit that it’s time to let go?”

Lewis turned to look at me then, his expression softer than I expected. “That’s what makes it worth trying to me. Neither of us seems to know how to really give up. Not on us. Not completely.”

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers tracing the hem of his sweater on my lap. It felt like there was a storm building in my chest, all those feelings I’d kept locked up threatening to spill out.

I didn’t know what to do with them, how to make sense of this thing between us that felt so much like a second chance and a ticking time bomb all at once.

He reached out then, his hand brushing against mine, a gentle touch that was almost like a challenge. “I’m not asking you to forget the past. I’m not even asking you to believe that we won’t mess this up again. But I am asking you to stop pretending like you don’t want this. That you don’t want me.”

And I couldn’t. Because he was right.

As much as a part of me would argue that I could, should, walk away, that I’d be better off if I just left before the inevitable hurt came crashing down, I still wanted him. Ached for him.

I met his gaze, letting him see the uncertainty, the fear, the hope that I couldn’t quite bury.

He held my gaze, unwavering. “Let’s be afraid together. One more time. Let’s make a mess of it, and figure it out as we go. Because I’m tired, too. Of pretending like I don’t want you here. Tired of acting like I don’t see a future where we get it right.”

And I knew, even if I tried to deny it, that for him, I’d hand him my life.

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familyvideostevie · 1 year ago

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a kind of hunger | chapter 1

joel miller x fem!reader

series masterlist

joel miller walks into your life just as it starts to fall apart. surely some hot nights with the bar's newest regular can't hurt, right?

length: 9.2k

warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), doggy style, missionary, slightly painful sex, dirty talk, size kink if you squint, joel is a liiiiiiiitle mean if you squint, general feelings of loneliness and angst from r in her free time

a/n: huge thank you to @strangerfreaks without whom this would never have gotten off the ground. also to all the joel writers on this site, i love you, i am in awe of you. please allow me to give it a go myself <3

navigation | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

The first time you sleep with Joel Miller you know it won't be the last.

But that's not where this story starts.

It starts in a bar. Nothing special about it, really. Staffed half by college kids who come and go, half by drifters who, for some reason, stopped drifting once they found this dimly lit, sticky-floored hole in the wall. Not quite a local institution but not forgettable, never totally empty. It's got pool tables and a jukebox but also clean bathrooms aside from the graffiti and two new-ish TVs showing whatever the first guy who gets there wants to watch.

Point is, you work there. One of those drifters who stopped drifting. The guy who owns it, some crotchety old fuck called Bill, rents you the apartment above the bar for a decent price considering it's loud until 2am on the weekends and midnight all the other days. Loud enough that even on nights you don't work it feels like you're there anyway. But you get used to it. It's called Frank's, which you don't totally understand, but you're not about to ask questions of the guy who has finally allowed you to slow down and take a breath who is also your boss and landlord.

You've worked there long enough to have learned the names and orders of all the regulars who've been coming in since long before you walked through the door and to have seen some new regulars enter the rotation. In truth, you've worked there long enough to basically be running the place. It's still the bar in your head, not your bar because getting attached will do you no good. This is how it always goes: you care too much but it never seems like anyone cares back. You cut and run before you can be disappointed and you’ve already been here longer than you’d expected to be because it’s something close to comfortable.

Almost no one messes with you despite being younger than most of the clientele and on the off chance some frat boy from the city decides to take a cheap shot you've got a small army of imposing customers on your side. Between them and your coworkers, it's almost like you're not alone.

Almost.

The hours you spend away from the bar are spent alone. You don't have many numbers in your phone and the ones you do you don't call. You go on drives in the shitty truck you bought off some guy when you moved here. You browse used bookstores and suffer the heat of the day on long walks and wonder if this is all there is. You think of what it might be like to feel something other than rootless.

One thing that helps is…sex. Being close to someone for even a little while, letting yourself be seen in a way that doesn’t require you to totally show your hand. You try not to make a habit of actually fucking your clientele. It can get messy quickly, guys coming in and expecting more than a good pour. Being offended when you don't give them a free round, don't make eyes at them over the oiled wood. It's easier to be alone, that much you've learned. It's easier and it's simpler and it means you've only got yourself to blame for the hurt you sometimes feel laying in bed, staring at the ceiling as some rock song thrums up through the floor.

And if you do fuck someone from the bar, you keep it simple. You do, however, try really hard not to sleep with regulars. And no staying over. A classic, unspoken rule of sleeping with strangers that you rarely verbalize but make sure to enforce every time. It keeps things neat. The last thing you need is mess. Who knows how long you'll stay in this town, in this little apartment and this shitty bar. You've got a lot of years left, a lot of years you should probably spend in classrooms or an office or falling in love with some nice guy with a nice family who can give you a nice life.

But you're here.

And then, one day, so is Joel.

Being a good bartender is memorization, paying attention, and keeping a level head. You know how to make pretty much any drink even though your regulars are mostly the simple beer or Jack and Coke kind of people. You swear you can tell when a glass is going to fall a second before it shatters, spot a punch before it can be thrown. So you notice when a man you've never seen before walks through the door.

You notice how the energy of the room changes, how multiple pairs of eyes follow him as he settles at the end of the half-full bar. Dark hair shot through with grey, green shirt rolled up over chorded forearms that he rests on the wood. It feels like you should know him but you don't. You've never seen him before.

You finish pouring beers for some giggly girls before making your way over to him. His eyes track you.

You wonder what he'll order. A shot, maybe, based on the tense line of his shoulders. Or a dark beer. Maybe something strong. You hope he won't be one of those guys you have to peel off the bar in a few hours. "Can I get you something?"

"Whiskey, rocks," he says. You can hear the Texas drawl even from so few words. Deep, low, measured. "Cheapest you got."

For some reason, it feels like he's returning and you're the new one. "Wanna start a tab?"

"I'll do cash at the end," he says. Ah, one of those. Guy getting away from his wife, maybe. Tough day at work. Doesn't want to leave tracks. You can relate to that.

"Joel fuckin’ Miller," one of your regulars says as you turn to grab a glass. He claps the man -- Joel -- on the shoulder. "Heard you were back up this way," he says. "Good to see you, man."

Joel simply inclines his head once like he's not thrilled to be recognized. The dismissal is clear. And, weirdest of all, it works. You've seen insults hurled between friends for less.

You set his drink down, the amber liquid sloshing around the ice.

"Thanks," he mutters. The dismissal is...less clear, but you've got other customers to tend to. And Joel doesn't seem particularly chatty.

Your eyes return to him for the next hour or so but he never waves you over for another round. Heat trails up and down your spine and you have to tell yourself that he's not watching you. That would be too optimistic, right? At one point you take a bathroom break and when you're back he's gone, wrinkled bills stacked under the glass. Enough for his drink and a decent tip.

Joel comes in three more times over the next month before you sleep with him. Each time he orders the same drink, leaves the same tip. He sits alone at the bar, occasionally saying hello when someone approaches but no one ever sits next to him. He's gruff but only ever polite to you, doesn't get impatient when it takes you a minute to get to him.

And he's really something to look at. The tick in his jaw, the veins in his neck. His skin is tanned, dotted with small scars that must come from a lifetime of hard work. He wears a watch and jeans that hug his ass in an almost indecent way, a way that has you watching him when he's not on a stool. Sometimes you catch him smirking to himself when there's some shit going on at the bar, gossip or people being loud for no reason. You wonder what his laugh sounds like and scold yourself for it. No harm in looking but there's the possibility of harm in thinking too much. You know better.

The third time he comes in is a bad night. It's busy for some reason and everyone is a fucking asshole. You weren't even supposed to work tonight but one of the seasonal kids had banged on your door begging you to come help, promising you all the tips for tonight if you did. You knew it would make you look good to Bill and despite yourself, you didn’t want to leave them hanging, so here you are, sweaty and pissed and smelling like beer, doing your best to empty the dishwasher in between drink orders and praying the keg doesn't need changing.

You don't even notice when Joel comes in, only spotting him once he's managed to scare some college kid from a seat at the bar. For some reason, his presence makes you a little calmer in the chaos.

"Be with you in a sec, Joel," you say to him when you're near. You don't call him by his name since he never actually introduced himself to you but it slips out in the rush. His nostrils flare but you don't have time to linger on it even as you feel the hot weight of his gaze.

"No rush."

You manage to get him what you know by now to be his usual only to be called over by your least favorite customer of the night as soon as he's thanked you.

"Honey," the asshole says. This fucker's name is Seth and he's a pain in your ass. "Gimme another, will you? Make it a heavy pour." This would be his fifth and he's already slurring his words.

"Don't think so," you tell him firmly. "I'm cutting you off for tonight, Seth." He's liable to start some shit or at the very least throw up on the floor and you don't want to deal with either. You don't have time to deal with either.

His bloodshot eyes narrow and he slams a fist on the bar. You manage not to flinch, though pretty much everyone else does. "That's not good fucking service, sweetcheeks," he leers.

"Good thing I don't give a fuck," you snap. "Get the fuck out of here before you do something you regret, sweetcheeks.” The venom in your tone seems to surprise him before sheer rage takes over. You've thrown out plenty of assholes in your time here but it's not always a smooth experience.

Seth leans forward over the bar, reaches for you -- to do what, you have no idea -- and you prepare yourself to yell for backup and then kick him out for good and maybe get a punch in as he goes. His fingers manage to hook in your shirtsleeve before a hand closes around his wrist.

Before Seth can scream he's got his outstretched arm behind his back, face twisted in pain. Behind him is --

Joel?

The bar is almost silent. You can hear a few whispers over the blood pumping in your ears.

"I'd get out of here if I were you," Joel hisses. He glances at you, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Are you okay? he seems to be asking. You nod.

Seth whimpers. "Let me go," he says weakly.

"Just gonna show you the door." Joel all but drags him through the parting crowd.

"Jesus," someone says behind you. One of the seasonal kids. "You okay?"

"I'm taking my break." You leave the kid behind the bar to fend for himself and barrel into the back and through the side door into the alley where you always take your 15. It's one of those weird cold fall nights, just the wrong side of chilly to be here without a jacket but you left it in the bar office.

The milk carton you sit on has been turned over so you kick it back with a thud and slump down onto it. The light above the door flickers. "This shit is getting old," you say to no one. You kick aside cigarette butts that aren't yours and wonder how long you can do this. What would be next, anyway? You've got a laundry list of failed dreams and no one wondering if you're going to make something of yourself. Long nights at a bar you care about more than you should and rowdy customers and handsome men who barely say a word to you can't last forever, can it? Would anyone here even notice if you left?

The door flies open, startling you out of your thoughts.

Joel steps into the alley. Somehow he manages to yet again look like he was meant to be here and you're the one who is out of place. You blink at him and he stares back like he wasn't sure he'd find you here.

"Got lost?" you ask. "Pretty sure you know where the front door is."

He lets the metal door swing shut and crosses his arms. "Was lookin' for you."

That catches you by surprise. "Why?"

Joel shrugs, a small lift of his shoulders. His expression doesn't budge. "Sorry for makin' trouble."

Oh, right. Seth. You wave him off. "Just another night," you say. "I'd have handled it." You stand from the crate and lean against the brick wall. It's true. Seth isn't the first asshole you've handled.

"I bet you would've," Joel mutters. He takes one step closer. You're reminded all at once how good-looking he is, how you've wondered what his hands would feel like on your skin. There's no way he's ever thought of you, right? You're just some girl who pours him drinks, too young and too forgettable. He was just having a man moment, wanting to save the day or some shit like that.

"I don't have a cigarette or anything if you want to smoke," you say. This close he doesn't smell like tobacco but you don't know what else to say. "Sorry."

"So you just sit in alleys on your break for fun?"

"I like this alley," you say, suddenly a bit defensive. "It's a nice alley." You take a step towards him. He uncrosses his arms and his hands flex at his sides. You shiver. "No one bothers me out here."

Joel tilts his head to the side. "That so?" His eyes are dark under the dim light. When did he get so close? When did your face get so hot?

"Except guys who drink whiskey on the rocks, I guess," you say. It comes out much softer than you'd like, your voice cracking. The air doesn't have the same bite as it did seconds ago. Joel's expression hovers between something you recognize and something you don't, something you desperately want to figure out. "Good thing I don't mind." The adrenaline from the small altercation hasn't left and the swirl of emotions about your whole shitty life has you on edge, has you wanting to play with fire.

You're so close now that you can feel his breath on your face, feel the heat of him in the still night. Joel's eyes rake over your face, looking for something, something you try very hard to show him so that he might fucking do it, meet the want that is suddenly uncontrollable halfway, or at least tell you if he's not interested so you can --

Your name is a groan in his throat and then he's kissing you. His palm cups the back of your head as he presses you into the wall, his other hand firm on your hip, fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt hard enough to bruise. He tastes like the whiskey you served him. You fist one hand in his collar and wind the other into his hair.

Joel controls the kiss but you give as good as you get. He licks into your mouth and you suck on his lower lip. His beard rubs against your face in a delicious burn and when you tug on his hair he makes a noise you must hear again. The brick behind you scrapes a bit but you hardly notice when he presses against you, slides a thigh between your legs and you feel him hard through his jeans.

"S'not right, you lookin' so good yellin' at that asshole," he grumbles into your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse. You cant your hips and he hisses.

"Speak for yourself," you manage. "Always got your eyes on me, don't you?" It feels like a risk to call him on it. Control of the situation is slipping from your grasp, this man who you never thought would actually touch you now holding you in his arms, his lips on your skin. He pulls back from your neck and smirks, eyes dark.

"'Spose I do."

You can work with that. You surge forward to kiss him again and this time he lets you call the shots while still meeting your bruising caresses with his own.

"Joel." You tug on his hair.

He makes that noise again.

It might be five minutes, it might be an hour. You have no idea. All you know is you can still feel his cock through the denim and you're so turned on you might combust in this alley. Or at the very least let him fuck you in it.

"I don't close tonight," you pant. One of Joel's hands has worked its way into your back pocket and the other has rucked up your shirt to rest on your bare back.

"What?" he growls.

"My shift. I'm off at 11." You tap his watch. He glances at it and sees it read 10:30. "Half hour. I live upstairs."

For a second you think he'll say no. Walk away with a nod of his head and out of your life forever. Wouldn't be the first, wouldn't be the last. You're already breaking one of your rules by even considering sleeping with him but there's just something about him. The way he looks at you, the way his hands feel on your skin. You want to know what he'll feel like inside you. Maybe you’re still in this town because you were waiting for him to walk through the door.

"Alright," he says. He clears his throat and releases you. You fuss with your hair and straighten your shirt and he adjusts himself in his jeans. "Half hour." His dark eyes narrow as he glances down the alley back towards the street.

"Take a walk around the block or something," you tell him, swallowing the urge to laugh at him so handsome and disheveled from your hands. Never in a million years would you have predicted that tonight would go this way. "My door is on the other side of the building. I'll let you up."

The urge to flatten the damage your hands did to his hair is so overwhelming for a second that you step away from him towards the door. His eyes follow you, expression unreadable. How many nights would it take for you to know what he's thinking? Careful, you think, or you'll be tempted to find out.

Joel watches you until you give him a little wave and slip back into the bar. The metal door clangs shut behind you and you lean against it, knees still wobbly. Is this actually happening? Are you really this overwhelmed by making out with some guy in an alley? You check the clock on the wall and curse. Your break ended ten minutes ago though since no one came looking for you it's probably no big deal. Being mostly in charge has its perks.

The bar is a little less crowded than when you left so you grab a rag and start wiping down the bar. Joel's seat is empty, his glass gone.

"Oh, hey," the seasonal kid says. "That guy, uh, Joel? He said to make sure you get this." He pulls out Joel's usual tip from his apron and holds it out to you.

Considering you're planning to go upstairs and fuck him until you can't walk, you don't feel like taking his tip tonight. "It's yours," you say. "Thanks for handling everything while I was out back." The kid blinks at you but knows better than to refuse, pocketing the cash and going back to loading the dishwasher.

You finish your shift. Your blood feels electric, your skin hot. Can anyone in this bar tell what happened in the alley? You haven't felt this way about a hookup in ages. Like you were wanted, not just convenient. It's just one night, right? Maybe he'll never come to the bar again, which makes your chest tighten for a second. Maybe you're about to ruin something you don't totally understand. But you haven't gotten this far in life by worrying about shit like that, so you clock out and wave goodbye and make your way to the other side of the building.

Joel isn't there. You unlock the door to the stairwell so you can at least wait for him inside when you hear footsteps, the crunch of gravel under boots. You fist your key between your knuckles just in case but before you can turn around you hear your name in that Texas drawl.

"Just me," he says. You don't know if Joel Miller is capable of looking nervous but this is probably close. He shifts from one foot to the other, hands in his pockets. A thrill runs up your spine. Are you really doing this? Are you really about to bring this man up to your apartment and hope to god he does whatever you want to you?

"Come on up." Yes. Yes, you are. You give him a smile and he follows you up to the landing.

"S'loud," he mutters once you shut the door. The bar's music wasn't that loud when you were in it and up here it's a dull hum, people's voices and laughter slipping through the cracks like a TV left on a little too high in the other room. These days it's background noise to you but you figure Joel lives in a house somewhere with lots of land and open windows and silence. He seems like the type to like silence.

Jacket on the hook, shoes clumsily thrown on the mat, keys in the dish. Your normal routine except there’s a man in your living room, too. He looks around the space, hands still in his pockets. You try not to be self-conscious about your place. It's small, sure, the bedroom visible through the currently open French doors in the small living room. Your kitchen is tiny, bathroom tinier, but it's all yours. "You get used to it," you say. "I hardly mind it anymore."

"Didn't say I did," he says. You both stand there for a few moments before Joel takes two big steps and crowds you against the door, one hand on your hip and the other next to your head. "Means they won't hear us." You swallow a gasp as he drags his nose along the curve of your jaw, breath hot on your skin. You were going to ask him if you could shower first since you undoubtedly smell like sweat and beer but clearly, he doesn't mind. His tongue darts out and he sucks on your pulse point, your own hands clutching desperately at his shirt. If he moves you're sure you'll melt into a puddle on the floor. "Means you can be as loud as you want," he growls. "That sound good?"

Any breath remaining in your body rushes out and you jerk your hips to make contact with the hardness in his jeans. "Yeah," you gasp. You can feel something like a smile against your neck. "That sounds good."

It's a dynamic you don't mind stepping into -- whatever this is. Every second of your life you feel like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everyone around you to get tired. Your eyes are always on the exit, always wondering where you'll go next, what you'll leave behind this time. Even when you're fucking strangers you're always wondering how you'll get them to leave. You’re better off alone. But right here, right now, with Joel's heavy scent of sawdust and whiskey and something earthy, something grounding, in your nostrils, his hands and his mouth on you, nothing else matters. Your brain shuts off and you're just here.

You grab Joel's jaw and guide his lips back to yours. He allows it and you moan deep in your throat as he tongues back into your mouth, your own trying to give as good as you're getting. He pops the button on your jeans and you help him with frantic hands, shoving them down your hips along with your underwear so he can ghost his fingers through your coarse curls. He pulls back from the kiss to watch as he drags two fingers through your folds. Your eyes lock and he smirks as your lids flutter.

"Soaked," is all he says. You tip your head forward and rest your forehead on his shoulder.

"Don't be smug."

He huffs. "I ain't trying to sound like an asshole, but --"

"Already failed." He nips at your earlobe.

"Gotta work you open a bit, sweetheart," he says. His fingers circle your clit once, ever so slowly. Your grip on his bicep tightens and you wonder if you'll leave bruises. You hope so. "Gonna be a tight fit."

"Heard -- fuck -- that before," you gasp. Joel really fucking knows what he's doing. "I -- bed?"

"Smart girl," he says. You're pretty sure you get wetter. He pulls his fingers free but keeps a hold on your hip like he knows your knees are jelly. "Sit on the edge."

You leave your jeans and underwear behind and make your way to the bed through the French doors, sitting heavily on the quilt, knees bent and leaning on your hands behind you. Before you can say another word, Joel lowers to his knees between yours. He pries them apart even further and runs his hands up and down your thighs.

For a few seconds, you can't find the words. This man, older than you and impossibly handsome, face lined with years he's lived and hands callused with work he's done, this man that you hardly know anything about but can't get out of your mind, is on his knees before you.

"You gonna be okay down there?" is what you come up with.

"You always talk this much?" he mutters, though his mouth tugs up at the corner. Joel's forearms wrap around your legs and he tugs. You fall flat on your back in surprise and your ass almost hangs off the bed. He draws one of your legs over his shoulder and kneads the flesh of your thigh, eyes dark and jaw twitching as he spreads you open and just looks. "Might have to help me up but I think I'll be just fine."

"Joel --"

The end of his name becomes a high-pitched moan when he leans in and buries his face in your cunt. He drags his tongue up and down through your folds, nose catching your clit in a way that makes you squirm. His beard scrapes against your skin deliciously, leaving a sting that you know you'll be able to see evidence of when he's done. He laps at you before finally taking your clit in his mouth and sucking like his life depends on it. It's only his hand on your outstretched thigh keeping you from suffocating him between your legs, though you're not sure he'd mind.

"Should be a crime," he says. You look down the length of your body at him. His chin is wet with you, eyes meeting yours when he feels your stare. "Cunt this pretty tastin' so good."

How do you reply to that?

He's back at it before you can even try. Joel gets messy with it, the sounds of his attention loud and filthy. He tells you how wet you are, how good you taste, and your eyes flutter shut again.

"How're we doing?"

"Don't stop," you manage. "Just, don't stop--"

He prods your entrance with one finger. "Reckon you can take it, hmm? You're so wet it'll be easy." There's a bite to his tone, a sense of amusement mixed with awe like he can hardly believe it either.

"Two," you gasp. "I can take two." You need two, in fact. His hands are one of the few parts of him you've been able to study and you know his fingers are long, much thicker than yours and you need them to fill you up, need them to stretch you out. You need something to clench around because right now you feel like you're on the edge of the pleasure building in your core and if you don't get a release soon you'll just…just…combust.

Joel hums but you feel a second finger nudge into you. He slides them in and curls them as he goes. Your back arches off the bed.

"Dunno," he coos. "Pretty tight, sweetheart." The slight meanness to his words is in complete contrast with the gentle, attentive way he handles you. Who knew he'd be such a fucking tease.

"Well get to work, then." He scissors the digits inside of you in reply and returns to sucking on your clit. You reach down and bury your hand in his silver-streaked hair, tugging a bit harder than you intend to. Joel just moans into your cunt, the vibration making it feel like your very pelvis is rattling as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

Sweat beads on your brow as you try to hold on. He picks up the pace and presses into your walls with his fingertips like he's looking for something. His tongue wreaks havoc on the rest of you, sucking bruises into your inner thighs when he's not abusing your clit. If this is just the foreplay you don't know how you'll survive actually fucking him. And he hasn't even asked you to touch him, hasn't shown even a hint of expectation. He's doing this to get you ready but based on the blown state of his pupils he's enjoying it almost as much as you are.

"Getting close?" he asks, breath ragged. Your skin is starting to feel deliciously raw from his beard and the hook in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter.

"Yes -- fuck -- I'm close, Joel, keep --"

His hand moves faster than before and he latches back onto your clit. Your legs start to shake and you feel your orgasm coming, it's just right there, you just need him to --

His fingers find the spot he must have been looking for and your only warning is a sharp tug on his hair and then your back arches and you come all over his face. He fingers fucks you through it and you feel it as your walls clench around him, your mouth open in a high whine as your muscles finally relax and you flop back onto the bed. Joel keeps his face in your cunt, gently lapping at your release while avoiding your sensitive clit. You push his hair back from his face and try to get your breathing under control.

He manages to get up on his own with a grunt as you pant on the bed. "Okay?" he asks. "Lookin' a little tired." You show him your middle finger and he...laughs, lips shiny with your slick. So he can laugh.

"Are you going to keep your clothes on?" you ask him. His eyes travel slowly over your bare bottom half, the redness of your thighs from his beard and the way your shirt has rucked up to the wire of your bra.

"Nah." He sits heavily on the edge of the bed to take off his boots and socks. You want to ask him if you can undress him, slowly peel off his layers button by button and explore every inch of him but you won't be able to take it if he says no so you just watch. Already you know you'll be thinking about this night for a long fucking time. The way it seems like he cares about how you're feeling, how he wants to take his time with you, how he enjoys your pleasure. It's nice. It's...making you feel wanted.

His denim button-up is tossed on the floor and he stands, shirtless, to undo his belt. The forearms and small triangle at his throat that you've been treated with thus far when he sits at the bar in no way prepared you for the rest of him. Broad shoulders, thick, muscled arms from years of hard work. Graying chest hair that travels all the way down the slight softness of his belly and in a darker trail his jeans. Your mouth waters.

"You're starin'," he says softly before unzipping his fly and pushing his jeans and boxers down in one motion.

"Taste of your own medicine." The words come out with much less bite than you intended as his cock springs free.

Well, he wasn't lying. He is big. You knew he would be based on what you felt through his pants, but seeing it is something else.

You sit up and scoot to the end of the bed to be closer. Is he really going to fit? He's bigger than anyone you've fucked before, that's for sure. A ruddy color, a little darker than his tanned chest, the tip a little lighter and already leaking. A few veins run the length of him and the hair at the base of his shaft is clearly taken care of though a little wild and a shade of deep brown that hasn't grayed much yet. His balls hang heavy, one slightly bigger than the other. He twitches under your gaze. You look up at him and wait for him to call out your staring again but instead, he's just watching you, pupils blown.

"You are...so beautiful," you breathe. He makes a dismissive noise but a flush travels up his chest and to his face. It's true. There's something about him that makes you think you could look every second for the rest of your life and not get enough.

"Should be sayin' that to you." He strokes himself once and you lick your lips. "You got a condom? Should be one in my pocket if you don't." Does he always carry one? Or did he hope to get lucky with you, just like you've been thinking about him?

"Bedside table drawer." He goes for it and you remember too late that the drawer has...other things in it, too. His eyebrows raise and he eyes your small collection of toys but says nothing, though his cock twitches again. If you asked, would he use them on you? He seems like the type to be into that. But right now you need him inside you so badly you might combust.

"Can I?" He pauses before handing the foil square to you. You take him in hand and stroke him from root to tip. He makes a noise low in his throat and you lean in to trace the vein along the bottom of his shaft with your tongue. His hips twitch forward just a bit like he's trying to keep control and failing. You know the feeling. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the slightest bit salty. You kind of lose the plot for a second, thoughts of him fucking you fading with the desire to make him feel good like this, to blow him until he's moaning your name like you were moaning his.

Joel slides his fingers into your hair and you manage to take him about halfway before he tugs gently. "I'm not complainin'," he says, voice tight. "'Specially when you look so damn pretty like this. But I've been hard as a fuckin' rock for an hour and I ain't as young as I used to be, so..." He trails off.

You place a dainty kiss on his tip and pat his hip. "Another time," you say, realizing too late what you've implied, but Joel just smirks. You tear open the foil and slide the condom on as gingerly as you can but he still hisses your name like he's scolding you, that hand in your hair pulling once again just a little. You feel the arousal pooling in your gut, sticky between your thighs.

He tugs on the collar of your shirt. "Off," he says. You're quick to obey, whipping it to a corner of your apartment along with your bra. Joel just looks for a second before reaching a calloused hand to palm one breast, thumb sliding over your nipple. "Look at you," he says, breathy, with a squeeze. "Christ."

"You gonna fuck me, Joel Miller?" You blink up at him. He swallows visibly, throat bobbing before that smirk is back.

"Only ‘cause you asked so nicely."

You scramble back up the bed on your hands and knees, leaning down on your elbows and presenting him with your bare cunt. "Cause I'm such a lady."

"That so?" he murmurs. He drags his fingers through your folds slowly, brows furrowed. You fist your hands in the sheets. "You want it like this?" he asks. He palms your hip, traces the curve of your ass and presses his fingertips into your skin. You wiggle at him a little. Most guys you hook up with want it like this. You don't mind being fucked from behind, don't mind being able to close your eyes with your face shoved in the sheets and just feel. God knows with a dick his size you'll be feeling it regardless of the position you're in. But part of you does want to look at Joel, to watch him, his expression, his handsome, rugged face. Feel his arms around you, feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he fucks you. See what his eyes look like when he comes. But this is enough.

"Do I need to say please?"

The head of his cock presses against your entrance in reply. You crane your neck to see as much of him as you can. He's focused on your ass with a light frown, hands resting on your hips.

"Gonna go slow," he grumbles. His gaze meets yours. "For my benefit as much as yours."

Words don't come. You're breathless and dripping, desperate for him to just get on with it.

"Joel, are you gonna just stand there --"

He slowly, torturously slowly, starts to slide into you. The stretch is immediate, has you face down in the sheets, eyes fluttering. Each inch of painful stretch fades quickly to throbbing pleasure, a fullness that has you keening.

You press your hips back into him but his fingers grip tighter, holding you in place. "What did I say?" he grits out.

"Feels so good, so big," you babble. There's nothing left in your brain, your body, but this. But Joel. You have to have all of him. "I can take it, I can take your cock, I --"

"Got quite the mouth on you, huh?" he says. He keeps pressing into you, filling you up inch by inch. "Okay?" he pants. "Look at me, tell me it feels good --"

You crane your neck again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and look at him. His own are lidded, mouth open in an "o" like he can hardly believe it himself. A flush runs down his chest and if you didn't know better you'd say he's trembling.

"Yes, I -- god, Joel, keep going, please --"

"Doin' good, sweetheart," he coos. His hand strokes up and down your spine. "Almost there. Almost takin' all of me."

He bottoms out and you see stars. You feel lips on your back, the warm puffs of his breath on your skin as he waits for you. It's a fine line between pain and pleasure and you're walking the tightrope but the stretch is delicious. You can feel every inch of him. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears and you shift your hips a little, loving it when Joel moans.

"Alright," you manage. "Move, please." His fingertips are back on your hips and give you a squeeze before he starts to drag his cock out of you. The tip of him catches the spot inside of you that makes your back arch as he pulls out and then again when he thrusts in.

"All that work, my fingers and my tongue and you're still so fuckin' tight. Christ."

The only thing you manage to say is a litany of his name.

"Lemme hear it, baby," he grinds out. Baby. "Be so loud those fuckers downstairs hear you--"

You meet his thrusts as best you can and even though it feels so good, even though you're so full, it's not bringing you to the edge like you need. Your neck is starting to hurt from the way you're twisting to see him, your fingers gripping the sheets as hard as you can because you want to be touching him instead. But this is good, this works, maybe if you touch your clit, you'll --

You reach between your legs and Joel pulls out. You get off your elbows and turn around, almost gasping at the loss of him. "Is something wrong?"

He's frowning at you. "Should be askin' you that."

You don't know what to say. Your cunt throbs a little from being empty, the ache settling in now that he's not there to literally fuck it away. "What?"

"You stopped makin' those noises," he says softly. “The ones you were makin’ before.” You turn around and sit facing him, suddenly a little self-conscious. "Ain't gonna fuck you in a position you don't like."

"I --" You try to fight through the haze of your brain for words. "I liked it fine."

Joel waits. He just stands there at the edge of the bed and waits.

"Maybe..." you try again. "Would on my back be okay for you?"

His eyebrows raise like he can't believe you'd think otherwise. "That'll work for me," he says slowly. "Grab a pillow." You shift back on the bed as he kneels on it, positioning himself between your legs. You hand him one of your pillows and he taps your hip. "Up." You obey and he slides it under you so your lower half is lifted a bit before he presses one leg to the side, spreading you open. He slowly bends the other so that your thigh is pressed against your torso in a deep stretch without being painful. You feel bare, exposed in a way he somehow hasn't yet achieved.

Joel fixes his gaze on your face. "Let's try that." He strokes himself once and then leans over you, bracing himself on one hand near your head. He lines up to press his cock into you again. Faster than last time, you wince a little but you dig your fingertips into his back to tell him to keep going. He bottoms out and you immediately feel the difference, eyes fluttering shut. Before it was like he was plowing into you, like you were so full you could hardly handle it. But like this it's like he's melting into you, like there is no space between you anymore. You're full but it's not so harsh. You don’t know where you end and he begins.

"That better?" he croaks. You force yourself to look at him and find his face closer, closer than you thought he'd get, breath warm on your face. His forehead is beaded with sweat and his eyes search your face. This close you can see they’re grey, the lines at the corners deep with strain. Even like this, stuffed full of his cock, you could look at him all day.

"Move, Joel," you tell him. He takes that for a yes and starts at a punishing pace. You have no idea how he's kept it together this long, considering you've felt on the edge of another orgasm this entire time. You anchor your arms on his shoulders as his thrusts make you see stars.

"Ask for what you want, you hear me?" His balls smack loudly against you and he presses his lips to your ear. "You ask and I'll do my damn best."

You don't know what it is -- the overwhelming sensation of his cock dragging in and out at this angle, how close he is, his words -- but you feel tears at the corners of your eyes again. You nod frantically, hands grasping for purchase on his back.

"C'mon," Joel says. "Gotta use that mouth, sweetheart."

"Yes," you pant. "Yes, yes, Joel, yes --"

"Fuckin' perfect for me," he moans. His lips trail up your cheek, tongue catching your tears before he presses them to yours in a messy kiss that's more teeth and breath than anything else.

"Joel, Joel, Joel --"

"Gonna come for me? Gonna soak my cock like you did my face?"

Your orgasm comes like the snap of a rubber band. You hold him as tight as you can as it washes through you, the waves almost painful as he keeps fucking you fast and hard, your name a series of broken sounds from his mouth until his hips stutter and he groans deep in his chest. You try to keep your eyes on him as you come down from your high and are rewarded with the scrunch of his brow and the slight part of his lips as he comes. Beautiful, you think.

The room is all of sudden much quieter without the sounds of your fucking. It's just the dull sounds of Frank's through the floor and your combined panting as he pulls out of you and flops on the bed beside you. You wince this time, the soreness really settling in. Joel finds your hand and kisses the back of it in a move so unexpectedly tender you can't look at him, raw as you are already. The bed shifts and you figure he's throwing out the condom.

"You okay?" he says. You open your eyes and find him standing at the edge, looking at you. He's holding your robe from the bathroom. You stretch and let him look.

"Yeah," you reply. You give him a smile as you scoot to the edge and wrap yourself in it when he holds it out. "Thank you." Joel grunts.

You go to the bathroom yourself to pee and see the damage. Hair a mess, your mascara gathered around your eyes like you've been working hard. You've got hickies forming on your neck and chest, the skin rubbed a bit raw from his beard around your mouth. You love how you look right now.

You look like you got fucked well. And you did.

But now you want a shower and a snack and to go to bed.

You half expect Joel to be gone when you go back into the bedroom. You remember belatedly that you don't let hookups stay the night. Will he leave if you ask him to? If he's already left then you don't need to worry about it. A small part of you worries you won’t ask him to go.

Instead, he's sitting on the edge of your bed putting his boots on. His shirt is unbuttoned but other than that he's dressed. He looks up briefly. His own hair is going in a thousand different directions and if this wasn't a one-night stand you'd fix it for him, a hand pushing it back like you did when he was between your thighs. But things are different outside the heat of the moment.

"You want some water or anything?" you ask instead.

He shakes his head and finishes his boot, stands and buttons his shirt. "Nah," he says. "Should just head out."

You wonder belatedly if there's anyone at home missing him. Maybe he's got a wife. Maybe he's got a life that he's running away from and into your arms.

"Bar'll be closed by now, or as good as," you say. You spy his jacket by the door and bend to pick it up. "No one'll see you."

Joel's face does something funny that you don't quite know how to read. He takes his jacket from you and shrugs it on. "Alright," he says.

He looks awkward in a way you didn't know he could so you throw him a line. "Thanks," you say. For fucking me. For listening to me. For making me feel good. "It was fun. See you around?"

His expression softens. He steps close and gently holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger before kissing you once, firmly but chastely compared to what you were doing before.

"See you around," he says. And then he opens the door and disappears down the stairs.

You hear the outer door close and only then do you let out a breath. Your entire body feels like you just spent hours at the gym. But your mind? It's going a thousand miles an hour. You don't know what to think about first -- how Joel looked, how he spoke to you, how his hands felt. How he implored you to ask for what you wanted, how he made you feel good because it made him feel good. How you desperately, desperately want to see him again, to know him in every possible way. How you want him to walk back up the stairs and hold you until you fall asleep.

And that's not how you expected to feel. It's not how you should feel after a one-night stand with a guy you serve a few times a week at your place of employment. Like he saw right to the core of you, like he gave you something you didn't know you needed.

You need to get a hold of yourself. This is how it starts -- this is how you get hurt. You care. Well, you always care, but no one has to know that. You let someone care about you. Not that Joel does, but he could.

But isn't that the one thing you want most of all?

You sleep in the next day. There's not much that needs to be done at Frank's besides bookkeeping and inventory which doesn't take you long. When you finally make it downstairs, three Advil popped to ease the soreness of your entire body, you're surprised to find Bill himself sitting at the bar.

He looks just as you remember, hair a little longer and a little grayer. Shit kickers and jeans, a hunting jacket and trucker hat. You'll bet his actual truck is parked around back where no one from the road can see it.

"Uh, hi?" Bill hasn't come around for at least a year, which is making your stomach sink a little. The last time was when there was a fire because some dumbass tried to smoke inside and he wanted to make sure you weren't going to quit on him for having to throw water on the nasty curtains.

"Heard about Seth," he says. Always right to the point, this guy. He's drinking what looks to be Coke with a lemon. "Sit." You do as he says. So much for bookkeeping.

"Yep," you say. You have no idea where he heard it and know better than to ask. "No big deal."

"I want to retire."

What? "Do you...work here?" Bill appreciates honesty and he's the kind of asshole that respects you if you're an asshole back.

"No," he says. "But I own the fuckin' dump. And me and Frank want to retire."

"There's a Frank?"

"My partner, dumbass. Keep up."

You were already groggy and still muddled from last night but this is forcing you to bring everything into sharp focus. Bill wants to retire. Which means he wants to...

"So my options are to sell this dump or find someone to take it."

If he sells the bar you're shit out of luck. No way another owner would let you live upstairs the way you do for next to nothing and let you work here and run the show. This is...a lot to take in.

"Are you listening to me?" Bill says. You blink a few times.

"No," you admit. "Can you say that again?"

He sighs. "Do you want it?"

"The bar?" you ask incredulously.

"No, idiot, the dumpster out back. Yes, the bar." He raps his knuckles on the bar top. "You could keep everything the same. It's just paperwork, really. I'll just give it to you. God knows a young person like you could make it nicer, turn a better profit." He says it like it's an insult.

"Are you fucking serious?" This goes against most every rule you've had for yourself for the last who knows how long. Don't get attached, keep moving. No one really needs you so you can disappear whenever. You haven't gotten bored yet, haven't gotten restless, but you know it'll happen. There's no way you can do this forever. But owning a bar? That would make you stay. You'd have no out. You’d have to let yourself be seen, let yourself be needed. You’d have to commit. You’d have to not fuck it up.

"Why not?" he shrugs. "I know you said it was temporary back when you moved in, but you practically run it."

He's right. Everything is temporary for you. But would sticking around be so bad? Would trying to actually make a life for yourself, have a home base, a thing you care about be the end of the world? And then there's Joel...No. Not going there.

"I..."

"Either you take it or I shut it down." Bill gets off his stool and looks around. "No one cares enough about it to try to sell it."

"Then why me?"

"Do you care about it?" he asks. His piercing stare pins you to your stool, compels you to be honest with him where you're rarely honest with yourself.

"Yeah," you say. "I do."

"Then there's you're fuckin' answer. I know you do. You clean the shit out of this place and train the seasonal dipshits and learn the names of the fuckin’ drunks and live upstairs and make this a good place for good people to come. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice." It's possibly the most words Bill has ever said to you in a row.

"Can I...think about it?"

He shrugs. "Sure," he says. "Not too long, though. Gotta decide by the end of the year. Maybe earlier."

That gives you three months, give or take. To figure out what the fuck you're going to do.

With one conversation Bill has shattered your entire life here. Now there’s actually a timer on it, this little piece you’ve carved out and started to enjoy. Could you make it a real thing? Could you finally admit to yourself that this is what you want – to be wanted? To be needed? To have something that’s yours?

The bar door shuts and you realize Bill has left you alone with your thoughts. You shift in your stool and a wave of soreness rolls through you from your core.

You thunk your forehead on the bar. “Fuck me,” you say to the empty room.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction

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0mg-bird · 1 month ago

Text

Sister’s Mister (Pt 2) ~B. Bradshaw x Seresin!Sister Reader

Summary: The after effects of being with the girl he wasn’t supposed to touch are going to be the reason Bradley loses his mind.

Warning: Language, 18+ content, smut

A/n: Part Two of Sister’s Mister, read part one here.

One week and four days.

That’s how long it’s been since Bradley seen you.

There’s been a buzz under his skin ever since, like he’s in a constant state of brain fog. He gets up in the mornings, takes a cold shower and thinks of reaching out, but he never does and neither do you.

He tells himself this is for the better, one time didn’t too much damage, Hangman never found out, he was in the clear.

But…

Bradley stalks your social media pages, his search history is full of your name followed by magazine names and name brands that are associated with your face. He seriously contemplates going to an Urgent Care, believing you might have drugged him. Anyone mentions your name and he lets out a shaky breath. He can’t even look Hangman in the eye.

And just when he thinks he’s officially detoxed, you show up at the Hard Deck.

He’s only half a beer down, but the second you rush through the front doors, he’s chugging it down and going to order another.

Hair wavy from the curlers they were in earlier, your relaxed outfit doesn’t match your crazed mood.

With a huff, you come to join the aviators.

“I am so sorry I’m late.” You immediately apologize as you greet everyone. Turning to your brother, he watches in amusement as you explain yourself.

“The shoot ran way later than expected, hair and makeup was a disaster, half the team bailed, the set manager was freaking out, I’m pretty sure I got a sunburn. As soon as they got the final shots, some of the girls wanted to get a bite to eat, that turned into a few glasses of champagne. Now, I’m here. Hi.” You rush with your words, though they end when Jake hugs you.

“Poor little model girl.” He fakes a pout.

From the bar, Bradley procrastinates on taking his beer and going back to the group that has their attention on you. His foot taps on the floor as he finds the courage, soon he takes a breath and just pushes himself forward.

Immediately, your eyes find him.

It’s like the ache you’ve had ever since you left his arms is gone.

The entirety of moments following are all just glances shared back and forth. The warm bar scene really isn’t doing you any favors, neither is it for him. You clip your hair up, your shirt slides off your shoulder as you lean over the pool table, winning a bet you made with Coyote.

A few more drinks come and go, music is flowing, you’re swaying next to the jukebox and Bradley is at war with his mind and heart.

At some point, Phoenix slides her way beside him, watching him stare off in your direction as you fight with Jake over which song to play next.

“That’s a poison you don’t want to pick, Bradshaw.” She says, making him snap his eyes away.

He shakes his head, trying to deny anything but Nat looks up at him with a pointed face.

“Here’s a tip, if you don’t want Hangman to find out you want his little sister, don’t eye fuck her.” She says, patting his chest.

Bradley sighs. “Don’t say anything about this.”

“What? I’m not gonna get you killed.” She laughs, not helping his guilty mind any.

As you sift past bodies, making your way to the secluded bathroom in the back of the bar, his eyes are tracking your every step. And as his mind is screaming at him to just forget about you, he trails after you.

The stall clanks as you come out to wash your hands, then you lean against the sink and sigh.

It feels like you’re on fire and he hasn’t even touched you. You could feel those brown eyes on you, it was suffocating. He looked too good, his voice was so smooth and he didn’t even speak to you.

He hasn’t called in a week and four days.

You remind yourself of that fact and try to get your head straight.

Drying your hands, you decide you’ll tell everyone goodbye and be on your way. It was getting late anyway, you could go back to your house, take a shower, get in bed and watch some tv. That was safe, you’d be able to control yourself.

Head on straight now, you open the bathroom door and immediately forget the entire safe plan you just made.

Bradley stands there, looking at you with round brown eyes, lips parted slightly. “Hi.” He greets, not knowing there’s a fire lit in your stomach.

“Hi.” You smile.

So much for a conversation, the two of you just stand with a heated silence before you have the urge to speak.

“H-How are you? How have you been?”

He wants to laugh at your effort to remain normal.

“Me? I’ve been acting a fool since you left.” He says in utter transparency, making your brows furrow slightly.

“Makes me wish you would’ve called and told me.” You state with an awkward laugh, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Bradley looks half confused and half surprised.

“I didn’t call because I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to or not…you never called either, so…” He looks away almost bashfully, but he tries to mask his look with one of manly stoicism.

Now you really are taken back. Slightly shaking your head, a dry chuckle leaves your lips.

“Bradley…you never gave me your number. I was waiting for you to call.” You say, making him snap his head back to you.

He’s an idiot.

Of course he is.

“I’m…damn it, I’m sorry sweetheart.” He laughs at himself and scratches the back of his neck. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“No you aren’t.” You say, stepping closer.

“This entire time I could’ve been talking to you- even though it’s still not the best idea-”

You reach out, hand on his jaw as you lean up to kiss him. He immediately silences, pressing his lips back to yours, softly savoring you.

After a moment, with his hands on your waist, you pull back. Hand slipping up to his hair, you don’t miss the way his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“I’ve thought about you every day, since.” You whisper, watching his eyes pull back open, a shade darker.

“I’m going to get myself in trouble.” He says, fingers flexing before gripping your hips a little tighter.

“You’re already this far in, what’s the harm in more?” You question.

He internally groans. Because what was the harm in more? He wanted it so badly, all he can hope for is to see you every day until you leave. He’ll take you out, all of his free time could be given to you.

All he had to do is follow your lead.

“We could go back to my place.” You offer quietly, smiling as he kisses you once more.

“Meet me outside by my car.” He says with a sly grin.

And that’s what you do. Going back to the group, you say goodnight to everyone, telling your brother that you’re getting a ride home and you’ll see him for lunch tomorrow.

Then you calmly step out into the night air and lean against the Bronco.

After five minutes, Bradley is coming to find you.

You bite your lower lip, containing your giddy laugh as he helps you into the passenger seat.

Hand on your thigh, you direct him to the seaside rental. It’s almost like you’re in a cloud of deja vu, the way the two of you fall into the house, tangled together, all hot and feverish. It’s the same way you two were before.

He blindly shuts the door behind him before turning and pushing you up against the wall. His mouth on your neck has you breathing hard, has your hands pushing his shirt up.

“Bedroom.” You pant. “Bedroom is down the hall.”

Immediately he pulls you from the wall, heated hands lifting you from the ground. Your legs wrap around his waist, he supports you by both hands gripping your ass.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this everyday.” You admit, arms around his neck, tongue in his mouth.

Bradley groans. “You can’t say things like that, baby.”

His pleading tone shoots arousal through you.

“Why not?” You ask dumbly, getting backed through the bedroom door. “Not sure you can handle the truth?”

Clothes get scattered onto the ground, your urgent in your actions, yanking his belt open and unzipping his jeans. He unhooks your bra in one fluid motion and tosses it behind him, laying you flat on your back, against the bed. He trails that skilled tongue of his over your sensitive breasts. He places open mouthed kisses down your chest and over your stomach.

“I don’t think I can leave you again after this.” He claims as he yanks your underwear down.

“Then don’t.” You say, meeting his eyes as he comes back up to you.

He leans down and kisses you slowly, a different change of pace. You moan into his mouth as his fingers run between your thighs, finding how wet you are.

“You have to mean that.” He whispers in a rough tone.

“I do.” You gasp as he sinks two fingers into you slowly. Your hand grips the back of his head. “I mean it, Bradley.”

His erection twitches in his boxers.

He can’t help the marks he sucks into your collar bones, he thinks he might just lose it when you kiss him with an urgent need, biting his bottom lip.

“Don’t make me wait.” You say. “I want to feel you inside me, please.”

The realization hits him.

“I don’t have a condom.” He says.

“I’m on birth control.” You breathe, hands already trying to tug his boxers down.

The idea of being inside of you. Raw. It has him pulling his drenched fingers from you and sucking them clean. He lets you tug the fabric down, lets you run your palm over him a few times before he practically shoves you back, needing to feel the way you’ll wrap warmly around him.

He brushes your hair out of your face, cradles your jaw as he slowly pushes into you.

You groan breathlessly, head digging into the pillow as he stretches you perfectly.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath. “You feel so fucking good.”

A moan tumbles from your lips as he hits an enticing spot inside of you. His hand runs down your thigh and grabs the back of your knee, kissing you as he hooks that leg around his waist, giving him more room to slowly thrust against you.

You let out a giggle, utterly relieved at the pleasure of him dragging back and forth against your walls.

“You’re so addicting.” He admits, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking back in.

The sound of your wetness grows as he speeds up, it has you gripping onto his wide shoulders.

“That’s it.” You praise. “Like that.”

He grows a drunk smirk. “Yeah? You like it like this? You love how I hit it so deep and good?”

“Yes- ah, Bradley.” You gasp as he makes his thrusts more pointed.

“Good. I love it when you take it so good, fuck, you’re such a good girl.”

Your lips tremble at the praise, eyes falling shut as you pant. His lips to the skin of your neck, the bristle of his mustache makes you shiver. He moans against you at the way you maintain a grip around him.

“Bradley.” You whine, begging him to push harder.

He does, of course he does, he’ll do anything if you keep calling his name like that. Your free hand grips the sheets while the other is in his hair or trailing your nails across his back. His movement jolts you, shakes you closer to the headboard and you couldn’t be more thrilled.

“There you go, baby.” He coos, thumb trailing over your parted lips. “You want it like this, huh?” He asks as he spreads you wider, giving him the space he needs to fuck into your tight cunt.

“Mhm. Fuck, you’re so deep.”

You keep saying those dirty words and all he wants to do is pound into you until your screaming. It’s one tweak he makes, one adjustment of his hips, your hips, that has you gasping out. He knows he’s hitting the right spot when your nails dig into his shoulder.

“Bradley- please- feels so good like this.” You cry out, muscles tightening as your orgasm starts to build.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me come.” He breathes, finding your open mouth.

Your pants are heavy, your voice hoarse as you whimper his name over and over, it makes his head swim and his dick twitch inside of you.

You can’t even kiss back at this point, you’re too lost in the hot feeling blooming in your stomach.

“Please say I can finish inside you.” He pleads, gripping your hips as you try and arch off the bed.

“Yes! You can- need to feel it- I’m so close.”

“I know, I know.” He comforts, grunting as he fucks into you, trying to get the two of you closer.

Completely incoherent words come from you, your face buries in his neck, lips sucking his skin to stop the noises you want to loudly whine. The tension builds and builds, your heels dig into the matress and then you’re falling over the edge.

Your body goes rigid, your grip on him tightens as he fucks you through the orgasm. You’re coming with a shaky moan, your eyes blown completely wide as the feeling takes ahold of you.

“There it is, that’s it.” Bradley praises. “I’m so close, I’m going to come.” He curses, your name coming from him like a prayer.

His rhythm falters as he pushes deep inside of you one last time and he finishes, body going numb.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck yes.” He praises, watching how your body shakes under him.

He grips your thighs as he sits back, watching with amazement as he finally pulls out and sees the mess the two of you made together. It’s a sight that’s going to be on his mind forever.

It’s in that moment of bliss, when you’re entering earth’s atmosphere again, that a pleased smile sits on your sleepy lips. Bradley lays beside you, an arm over his eyes as he takes deep breaths.

“Hey…” He blindly reaches for you when you don’t speak or move. “You still with me?”

You try to move some part of your body but it all feels too heavy at the moment.

“Mhmm.” Is all you groan, eyes casted on the ceiling as your vision becomes clear again. Your mind is completely drunk and woozy, the only thing you can do is put your hand over his that rests on your thigh.

This feeling is intoxicating beyond a lustful level, that’s something you know for sure.

- - - -

The windows are open to let the night breeze in, and the sound of the ocean is calming as you pull your messy hair up into an odd shaped bun. Both of you half dressed, Bradley groans as he pushes his face into the pillow. You let your eyes trace over the shape of his back muscles as they contort, then you lean forward, running your hands over his bare skin. As you lean to press your lips to his shoulder blades, he turns his head to the side to show his goofy smile.

“You staying the night?” You ask, voice low as you kiss his skin.

“I was planning on it, unless you’re gonna kick me out.” He mumbles.

You lean towards his face. “I think I’ll keep you around for now.” You tease.

Bradley chuckles, then shifts onto his side, his strong arms dragging you against him. Those sleepy brown eyes of his look into yours, all warm and meaningful and it doesn’t scare you.

“What are you doing Sunday?” He asks in an intimate tone since you’re just inches away.

You hum. “Not sure…but I could probably fit you into my schedule.”

He rolls his eyes, moving to bury his face in your neck. As he kisses your delicate skin, he mumbles his words.

“I was thinking I’d like to take you out on a date, but if Gucci calls and needs your pretty face, I understand.”

You laugh, pulling him back in fear he’ll suffocate against you. “I’d love a proper date.”

Now he gives you an all out grin and nods. “Okay, that sounds good.”

Pressing your lips to his, the two of you nestle together in your bedroom kingdom, wrapped in the covers and each other’s scent. You fall soundly asleep first, laid on his chest, and Bradley looks down at you and screws his eyes shut.

He was so screwed. So unbelievably screwed.

This was something that wasn’t his, and now he is set to make it his.

Even if it just might kill him.

#top gun fandom #top gun maverick #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun one shot #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #jake seresin #fluff #bradley bradshaw smut

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flowerchild28 · 19 days ago

Text

Backstage part 2

Louis Tomlinson imagine

Warnings: none, fluff

900 words

Part 1

The small neon sign of the diner flickers overhead as you and Louis approach, the quiet hum of the city at this late hour making the night feel intimate. As you open the door, the warm glow inside spills out onto the street, welcoming you both with the comforting scent of coffee and sizzling pancakes. The diner’s nearly empty, save for a couple of people scattered at booths, and a soft 80s rock song plays from a jukebox in the corner.

You slide into a booth near the back, tucked away from the main window. Louis sits across from you, kicking off his shoes under the table with a contented sigh. “God, I missed this,” he says, leaning back and running a hand through his tousled hair. “Nothing beats a post-show snack.”

“You say that every time,” you tease, picking up the laminated menu. “What’s it going to be this time? The usual?”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning forward with that cheeky grin you’ve come to know so well. “Obviously. Pancakes, fries, and a milkshake—chocolate this time.” He winks, folding his arms on the table. “And what about you? You gonna steal my fries again?”

“Absolutely,” you say with a laugh, glancing over the menu even though you already know what you want. “Sharing is caring.”

Just as you’re about to flag down the waitress, you hear a small, excited gasp from the other side of the diner. You glance over, spotting a group of young girls huddled at a booth near the window, whispering excitedly while stealing glances your way. One of them looks like she’s trying to work up the courage to stand, her friends giggling nervously beside her.

Louis follows your gaze and smirks, leaning closer to you as he says in a low voice, “I think we’ve been spotted.”

You smile. “Do you think they’ll come over?”

“Maybe,” he says, turning back to the menu casually, but you can tell by the way his eyes are twinkling that he doesn’t mind at all. “They look like nice though. It’s always the sweet ones at places like this.”

Sure enough, one of the girls finally stands, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her oversized hoodie as she walks hesitantly over to your table. “Um, excuse me?” she says in a soft, nervous voice. “Sorry to bother you, but… are you Louis Tomlinson?”

Louis looks up, flashing his warmest smile. “I am. And don’t worry, you’re not bothering us at all. What’s your name?”

Her face lights up, and she introduces herself, her friends now watching eagerly from their table. “We were just at your show,” she explains, her voice shaking slightly with excitement. “It was amazing.”

“Thank you so much,” Louis says sincerely, his voice soft and friendly. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

The girl’s eyes flicker to you, and she smiles shyly. “Um, is it okay if we ask for a picture? Only if you’re alright with it. We don’t want to intrude.”

You smile warmly, appreciating her politeness. “Of course, go ahead.”

With that, the rest of her friends come over, their nerves slowly melting away as Louis chats with them easily, asking about their favorite songs from the concert, and even joking about some of the signs he saw in the crowd. You snap a few photos for them, and they ask you to join one too, which makes Louis grin and pull you into the frame, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

The girls thank you both profusely, gushing about how kind Louis is and how much his music means to them. One of them even slips a small note into his hand, saying, “This is for you. It’s not much, but we wanted you to have it.”

Louis reads it over quickly, his expression softening. “This means a lot, really. Thank you, love.”

With one last round of thanks, the girls head back to their table, still buzzing with excitement as they review the photos they just took. You watch Louis for a moment, admiring how effortlessly he connects with his fans, always making time for them even during moments like this. It’s one of the things you love most about him—how grounded and genuine he remains, no matter how big his world has gotten.

As the waitress finally comes over to take your order, you lean back in your seat, feeling the comfortable warmth of the moment settle around you. Louis, still smiling from the interaction with the fans, looks across the table at you, his eyes soft in the low diner light. “You okay?” he asks, his tone light, but his gaze full of meaning.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling back. “I’m perfectly fine”

The two of you spend the next hour enjoying your late-night feast. Louis eagerly digging into his pancakes while you steal his fries, sharing sips of his milkshake. Between bites, he tells you funny stories from the tour, mimicking the crew’s antics and making you laugh so hard you nearly spill your drink.

As the night wears on and the diner starts to quiet down even more, Louis stretches, yawning as he glances out the window. “Alright,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “As much as I love this place, I think it’s time to head back to the bus before I fall asleep right here.”

You nod, feeling the weight of exhaustion starting to creep in as well. The adrenaline from the show and the excitement of the night has finally worn off, leaving you both pleasantly tired. Louis pays the bill, leaving a generous tip for the waitress, and you slip out of the diner together, hand in hand, back into the cool night air.

The short walk to the tour bus feels peaceful, the city streets quiet at this late hour. When you reach the bus, you’re greeted by the familiar coziness of the space—a home away from home, filled with the soft hum of the bus’s engine and the gentle sway of it parked on the quiet street.

Inside, Louis kicks off his shoes and stretches out with a groan. “Finally,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “The bed’s calling my name.”

You laugh softly, slipping off your jacket and following him toward the small row of bunk beds tucked away at the back of the bus. You’ve both been sleeping in the same bunk every night for the past few weeks—something that started out of convenience but quickly turned into a habit you both secretly love.

As Louis climbs into the lower bunk, he reaches out, grabbing your hand to pull you in with him. “C’mon,” he murmurs, his voice drowsy now. “There’s room for both of us.”

You smile and slide in next to him, the bed just big enough for the two of you to lie comfortably, your bodies pressed close. Louis wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into him as you rest your head on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his body next to yours makes you feel safe,

“Thanks for tonight,” he whispers, his voice soft in the quiet. “I love having you here with me.”

You tilt your head up slightly to look at him, your face lit only by the soft glow of the small light near the bunks. “I love being here,” you reply, your voice just as soft.

He smiles sleepily, his eyes already half-closed. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“Goodnight, Louis,” you whisper back, closing your eyes as you settle against him, feeling his arms tighten around you protectively.

I hope you like it! Let me know if you'd like a third part, and what you'd like me to write about. Coming up with good ideas to write down is surprisingly the hardest part for me.

#louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fluff #louis tomlinson imagine #louis tomlinson imagines #louis tomlinson x you #louis tomlinson x reader #one direction

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purelyfiction · 9 months ago

Text

is it too soon to do this yet? - jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader

Word Count: 1,977 words

Summary: this aint for the best, my reputation's never been worse so, you must like me for me. we can't make any promises now can we babe? // is it cool that i said all that? is it chill that you're in my head? cause i know that it's delicate. is it cool that i said all that? is it too soon to do this yet? 'cause i know that it's delicate.

Content Warning: fluff!! possibly insta-love for those put off by that.

Author Note: first: i wrote something?? on time??? second: for @ohtobeleah 's galentines writings :))) unedited/unbetaed we die like idiots

you had been here for a good time. your friend was getting married and her bachelorette was taking place in this quiet coastal town near a naval base. had that been part of the appeal? absolutely. who didn't want to watch a bunch of walking red flags as they did their daily trainings on the beach?

a little dive bar friday night with a shoddy jukebox, cheap beer and countless sailors - it had been the most fortunate surprise when you'd walked in with no other plans but to show off your sashed friend.

luckily for your group, sailors were suckers for a good bride to be and her girl crew. even luckier for you since you'd been playing DD for the last three days of the five day trip and you were finally able to take a damned sip of alcohol, which you rightfully deserved. glass in hand, you approach the jukebox to survey the music choices as the other girls were served shots (you wanted a drink not a hangover). you're about to pick out a song when you realize the machine hadn't been modernized and it still took cash. sadly, you spin back to the bar but not before dousing the man behind you in the makings of your whiskey sour.

"fuck, i am so sorry-" a hand grips your arm and he shakes his head.

"no, no, don't worry, i'm just upset on your behalf. what a waste of good whiskey." you look up, green eyes charming their way into easing your guilt. "I was gonna offer you a song, but ugh- maybe i ought to offer you a drink instead?"

he ends up buying both.

and as your friends sing along to the ancient song on the jukebox, you sit with this lone aviator and get to know him. long after your friends have retreated to the airbnb.

it was funny to think that was almost a six weeks ago. you'd flown to california for one week of fun and never went back, thanks to a rouge cowboy with eyes that matched the jumpsuit he donned to work each day.

you'd been crashing at an short-term rental since your friend's bachelorette, save for the weekend of the actual wedding, when jake had been your plus-one. everyone had relished in how the string of fate had connected you like this.

they'd also spoken of how insane you were. to uproot your entire life for the sake of what was supposed to be a one night fling. but it didn't bother you. not when the expansive reach of his hand had guided you through crowds that night. had danced with you and made a part fool of you both. i am a fantastic dancer, i have no idea where these guys are getting the idea i'm a trainwreck. his voice so easy and content on the drive back to the hotel that night.

now here you were, cooking for the two of you in his apartment as you waited on your boyfriend to get back from work. the label was maybe a week old at this point, but it fit him like a damn glove. so much so you'd started reaching out to potential leasers to sublet your apartment back home. maybe you were rushing into this. your job had been fine with you staying out in california longer - you were remote anyways, that had been the main perk of the job. but moving? for a man you'd known maybe a month?

the door slams shut and the entire apartment shakes. jake's place was small, tiny even, so you're greeted with his tense expression the minute you look up from your spot at the kitchen counter. "hey baby, how was-"

"fine." he grits the word out, dropping his duffel to the floor and disappearing down the hall. the bedroom door shuts with a click instead of a bang this time.

this wasn't boding well for you. you had a grand plan to make dinner, watch movies and have a nice and easy night in together, maybe talk for a bit. you'd wanted to discuss going to see an apartment this weekend. you didn't want to move in together, but you needed to look for a place of your own instead of crashing here so much. if this was going down that road. yet, the pilot seems to be in the worst mood to have that kind of discussion.

when he finally comes back to the kitchen, he slinks in behind you and presses a quick kiss to your head. "how was that call you were dreading." he's changed out of his uniform, a pair of sweatshorts on his waist, a dark t-shirt on his shoulders as he glides to the fridge. the tension is still carried in his frame even if he isn't outwardly acting as if there is something bothering him.

"ugh, it was - it was fine." now you're shutting off just like he was. it might be just you mirroring his actions, or maybe it was more. uncertainty? uneasiness? doubt?

the crack of teeth on an apple pulls you from your mind. you look to the fruit in his hand as he steps out to the living room on the opposite side of the kitchen wall. "i- dinner is almost ready, you know."

the tv stirs to life, echoing off the walls of the bachelor pad. the lack of decorations or real furnishings had been one of your reasons for wanting to pull the trigger on the move. to have some of your belongings back in your life, some familiarity.

"yeah, i'll eat." finally you're over it. you're not taking this from him, not when you had shit on your own mind that needed to be addressed. turning the burner off you step out of the kitchen, coming to the coffee table and snagging the remote. with it switched off, he looks at you with offense. "i said i'd eat what is the big deal?"

"what is going on with you?" your hands come across your chest as hangman snags the apple with his teeth as he dives into his pocket for his phone.

"nut-ing" the word comes out odd since his jaw is unable to move. you raise your eyebrows at him, which earns a similar reaction from the blonde. groaning he pulls the apple from his mouth. "rough day at work. got my ass handed to me by my superior, everyone talking shit because i flew better than anyone else- just in a piss poor mood. i'm sorry." you stare at him with concern now. it was just a bad day? then why was he suddenly as secure as a vault? locked away with high tech security and an obnoxiously long passcode.

"that's not all of it." you pry, slowly coming to sit down next to him. but when you do, he immediately stands up.

"yeah it is." he moves over to the kitchen again, tossing the apple core away. frustration eats at you again, tilting your head as your tone sharpens as he starts to step down the hallway.

"are you going to talk to me like your girlfriend or just like some bitch you're keeping around? cause right now it feels more like the second one." he freezes and his head drops back.

"look, i don't do the talking about emotions thing, i don't do the-"

"oh bullshit." you stand and march down the hallway, coming to stand behind him as his head sinks. "you put your heart on your sleeve when i saw you cry at dane and avery's wedding. and when you laughed to me about your childhood dog when you were drunk the night before at the rehearsal. or how you just seemed to stare at me with no concern in the world when we went out for ice cream last week - you do emotions. you do them and you feel them more heavily than most people i know." he slowly spins to look at you. "so start talking." the command is softer than the rest of your words.

finally, he relents. you sit on the couch with bated breath as he explained that he doesn't have the social life he had presented to you that first night. that his coworkers all think he's an asshole, that he's a dick and he isn't the kind of person to be friends with. "up until now, i didn't think i was the kind of person to be a boyfriend, let alone a friend."

it stung a little. jake as little as you had known him, had been one thing - confident. reassured in his personality and his work. he had this charisma around him that lured you in without him needing to really try. "i don't know how you believe that." you speak softly, pushing hair out of his face as it falls, gel from this morning weak from the impact of G-force pressures and california humidity. "you're a fun guy. you always make me laugh. i feel so.. safe around you. it's hard to imagine anyone else not appreciating that like i do."

jake's laid back on the couch now, looking up at you before looking at the ceiling. "yeah, well i guess the reality is that i'm easy to hate, hard to love. an acquired taste."

"that couldn't be further from the truth." it slips out so easily. green eyes perk up in curiosity.

"angel, i'm- to make it quick, i'm a menace. people know my callsign and they know my reputation. a selfish dick looking to get to the top and on top of women. hell, i don't know why you've stuck around as long as you have, so clearly somehow i've rubbed off on you."

your legs shift as you try to adjust on the couch to look at him better. "jake, i'm not going to be that girl. it would be a little weird if i was that girl, i mean, it's been what, a month?" he's slowly raising onto his elbows when you start in your ramblings, "but, you just- you take me by surprise in the best way, at every turn. yeah, sure they have some idea of you but it's not jake. it's not the guy who's impulsively buying karaoke machines to have idiotic nights in, or the guy who's sneaking pictures before anyone can notice because you're sentimental. or even the guy who hides the tears in his eyes at the end of how to train your dragon-"

he points at you with an amused expression, "you saw the way that dragon curls around him, he saved him." you can't hold back the laugh.

"my point is: hangman is so, so far from jake. cause i mean, i love jake, he's... he's my guy. and i don't get what's so hard to love about that." you give a small smile until it computes in your head what you've said. "i ugh..." jake keeps a coy grin on his features, leaning into his chin now that he's rolled onto his stomach, knowingly catching onto what you've said. "is it cool that i said that? i mean i- we can pretend that i didn't and forget this ever happened-"

he cuts you off with a soft press of lips to your own. the taste of apple juice still lingers on his chapped skin, before he pulls away. "it's cool." he offers, a hand coming to take your own.

"i promise i won't say it again." there's a mad blush on your face and jake just laughs.

"ah, don't you go promising nothing. let's just go finish dinner, yeah?"

and jake takes his rightful place next to you at the stove, towering over you as his head bounces along to the music you've put on, glancing at apartment listings that you pull up.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #hangman fanfic #hangman fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader

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solo6677 · 9 months ago

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A Little Tired of Life

There is a popular song out right now that starts "Do you ever get tired of life" then it goes "you are not really happy but you don't want to die". Well that is my life. Who am I? I am Richard Johnson. I am a 48 year-old married man. I am 6 '2 with brown graying hair, brown eyes and an athletic build.

I have been married to my wife Victoria for the last 20 years. Together we have raised an 18-year-old daughter. Her name is Amanda. I work in an office building downtown as an accountant. I have three good friends and a so-so friend (you know the type).

Back to my life, my marriage doesn't feel like a marriage, I feel more like we're roommates. I enjoyed my life with my wife until our 1st was born 18 years ago. It's not that I don't love my daughter It's just that my wife hasn't been intimate with me. We haven't had any sex for 18 years and as a date night goes yeah you can forget that.

We don't even sleep in the same bedroom. When my wife and I first started to date I made a promise to her that I would not cheat on her. However, this is increasingly becoming more difficult as I have not had a life, sex, or any intimacy for many years. I am not sure how much more I can take.

Monday night I came home from work. I had a lousy day but I brought home with me 2 tickets to a new musical opening up downtown. I wanted to surprise my wife so I bought flowers and a good bottle of wine, her favorite, to tell her about the show. I thought since we haven't been out in a while this would be a fun time for both of us.

When I made it home, she was sitting on the couch watching one of her reality shows that I can't stand. I walked up to her and asked her to pause her show. She didn't even look up at me and said no. I looked down at her and told her I had a surprise for her, again she said no. At this I became enraged.

I threw the flowers on the floor and stormed off to my room. I called my friend Robert the so-so friend from before. I knew he was a fan of musicals so I asked him if he wouldn't want to go and he immediately said yes. I then told him we would talk about plans for later.

I then went back into the living room to my wife and told her that Robert and I were going to the show. She looked at me and said quite meanly, "Whatever" then she asked what night it was for? I told her it was going to be on Wednesday night. That was 2 nights from now.

She smiled and said she already had plans with Amanda. I asked her what they were doing and she just had a sly smile on her face and said “girl things”. I then went to open the wine for her and I. We made small talk and then after a few glasses we both went to bed.

On Wednesday I met Robert for drinks before the show and we talked about our lives. I told him about the way things are and how unhappy I was. Then that aforementioned song about being a little tired of life came on the jukebox. I then looked Robert in the eyes and told him that is me to a tee. I then told him I wish I could just disappear. Robert's eyes lit up. He had an idea. He then told me about Evie's Emporium.

That it was a shop in the mall. It has all kinds of transformative items. lt probably had what I needed to disappear. He then told me about AdoniX. He said with this I would transform into an alpha male and I could just disappear. I thought that may be my answer and I thanked him. I paid for his drinks even though Robert was rich. He didn't like to spend money and we went to the show.

After the show I arrived home to an empty house. I grabbed a beer, sat down and watched all the sports highlights for the night. I looked around at the empty house and thought to myself, could I really give this up? After a few more beers and I said fuck yeah. The next day after work I went to the mall to check out Evie's Emporium.

I was astounded by how many products were in this one store. They had clothes, accessories, makeup shoes, and even skin bodysuits. I walked around bewildered until a customer service rep came up to help me. Her name was Mara. She asked me what I needed and I told her that I was looking for AdoniX. She smiled and walked me over to the vials potion section.

As we went by the shoe department I could see another associate Bruna explaining how high heels could be a very transformative experience for a very attractive female customer. As we went to the potions section, I saw another associate Erica talking to another attractive female customer about how great the big black dildos feel. Then I continued to follow Mara some more. We then passed the manager's office and emblazoned with big gold letters was the name Q. Evie Hyde.

The Q made me curious so I asked . She laughed and said it meant Queen. I thought maybe it was a joke and went on with her to go find the AdoniX. When we arrived, Mara picked up the bottle. She told me that it was their last bottle and that it was permanent.

I told her that it didn't matter to me. Then I said that I planned on disappearing and not coming back. I asked her how much and she told me the price. It was a little more than I thought it would be but it was the last one so I purchased it and then left to go home.

When I got home, I took my purchase to my bedroom. I kept thinking where the best place to hide it would be. The fact that my wife and daughter never go into my bedroom I decided to hide it in my sock drawer. I then went to the living room to watch some TV. About an hour later my wife and daughter came home laughing.

I asked where they were as they had been out all night. My wife gave me the same answer she normally did: “girl stuff”. I tried to do some small talk with my wife and my daughter but just got frustrated and went to my bedroom to be by myself.

The next morning at breakfast I was informed that my wife and daughter were going to visit her mother for the weekend. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to use AdoniX and go on with my new life. As this was now Friday morning it gave me time to plan out my new life too. I went to get ready for work when I saw Amanda coming out of my room. I asked her what she was doing and she said she had to use my bathroom because hers was not working correctly.

I just nodded okay and then I heard Victoria getting off the phone. "Okay we will be packed soon and we'll leave in about an hour, see you soon love you." She then told me that it was her mother and their plans had changed and they were leaving within the hour. I was overjoyed by the news. This meant I could put my plan into motion a lot quicker. After they were packed, they got in their car. I said my goodbyes and they went to her mother's.

The minute the car was out of the driveway I got on the phone and I called off of work. I went and showered and dressed then I went to the bank. I closed up my account and took out a small loan, I'm going to be a new man so how would they find me to pay anyway. I went to my lawyer and changed my will leaving everything I had to Robert. Finally, I went home to take my AdoniX.

I got home and locked the door then ran into my bedroom. I pulled the vial from my sock drawer and read the instructions on the back. It said to take off all jewelry and clothes as the transformation could make your body bigger. So I followed suit. I took off all my clothes until I was fully nude.

Next it said that it may be disorientating at first so not to be standing. I made my way over to the bed and I sat down so that way I would not fall over. Finally, it said that this vial of AdoniX is permanent and cannot be reversed. After reading that final warning I smiled and drank down the whole vial.

The taste was similar to strawberries and cream. At first, I felt nothing and then my whole body felt like it was on fire. I was profusely sweating and my heart was beating out of my chest. I looked at the bottle again for warnings and side effects. That was when the label fell off to reveal not AdoniX but an Elixir instead!

I started to read over the Elixir and I found out it was permanent and I wasn't going to be an alpha male, I was going to be a female. No sooner had I read the back but I started to feel much pain. My body shrunk from my 6'2 frame to a 5'7 frame. My hands got really dainty and my fingernails started to grow. My legs and feet got smaller and more feminine. My body hair all over dissolved to leave me just the hair on my head. My brownish gray hair started to spill out down my head and changed to a dark brown. My hips widened and then the pain became so unbearable I passed out.

When I awoke it was already night time. I could see the Moonlight beaming through my window. I went to sit up when I noticed my body felt different. As I sat up, I saw big titties. I felt them and a chill went through my body. I got out of bed and walked over to my mirror and stood in shock. The vision before me was absolutely gorgeous.

The woman I saw had dark brown hair and had real deep brown eyes. I touched my hair to realize I was her. My tits were big and my pussy was bare. I reached two fingers down to feel myself. It felt really wet and I jumped on my bed to give myself my first female orgasm. I then took a steamy shower, not able to keep my hands off myself.

After the third or was it the fourth orgasm I went to my daughter's bedroom to look for some clothes. I was able to find a set of underwear a black bra and panties that fit me.In her closet I was then able to find a black dress that fit me but snug in my chest. I then went to my wife's room, looked in her closet and found a pair of black stiletto heels. I put on my new heels and went to start my new life.

I grabbed all I wanted from my house. I called an Uber, got in and left. My next stop would be at a hotel for the night before I found a more permanent place to live. Well in the Uber I started to feel horny and very playful. I made sure the driver kept his eyes on me as I flashed my tits and masturbated most loudly. He drove off the road a couple times.

When we reached the hotel, I asked him in a breathless voice how much I owed him for the ride? He was quite pale and told me it was on the house and he thanked me for being his best customer. I smiled and pulled him in for a kiss. I gave him a kiss on the lips and told him I had to give him something. He blushed and told me that it was his pleasure and then he drove off.

I grabbed my suitcases off the ground and I went into the hotel. Inside I went to make a reservation and a very pretty young redhead was at the counter. I read her name tag and it said her name was Sarah. She was younger, probably in her early twenties. She had freckles on her face and very pretty eyes.

I asked her about a room and she unfortunately said they did not have any vacancies. I told her I had cash but she said unfortunately nothing is available. I went to turn away and then she called me back. She told me that I looked desperate and in need so I could have her room for the night. She asked me how much I could pay and I lied and told her $200. She accepted the $200 and handed me her room key and then blushed. I could see that she was interested in me.

So I asked if she was going to be spending the night with me in her room. She blushed again and said she has a couch she can sleep on. I then walked behind the counter to surprise her and kissed her full on the lips. I felt her nipples stiffen as I pulled her in for a quick hug. I also felt my pussy get wetter after she started to kiss me back. Smiling I asked her when she got off for the night and blushing she smiled back and said in about 15 minutes. I then made sure to tell her that I will see her in her room after her shift and I kissed her again. Walking away she asked my name and I said Rachel.

I took the elevator up to the fifth floor and I found the room. I opened the room to see a young woman's room as I figured Sarah had to be probably 21 or 22. I looked into a full length mirror in the room and got a better view of it myself. My body was the body of a late 20 something year-old year-old. My hair was dark brown and on my shoulders. My brown eyes were almost hypnotic. I went to undress when I heard the door open. It was Sarah.

She looked at me and walked over without a word and started to kiss me again. As we kissed my hand started to get bold and I touched Sarah's tits. They weren't as big as mine but they were enough. She started to moan and then she grabbed my dress and started to take it off me. I then grabbed her uniform and unbuttoned it to see her tits in a pretty flowered bra.

As I took her clothes off, I admired how firm her body was. I then threw her on the bed and finished undressing her. I laid her on her back and then started to suck on her toes. I then started working my way up her legs. When I got to her pussy, I noticed the way her hair was shaved. She had it in a heart shape. I started to kiss up her tummy and then each nipple.

I then started to kiss her lips again as I kissed her, I put two fingers in her soaking wet pussy. She started to squirm and moan then I went down on her and started to suck on her clit. She moaned even more as I then took my tongue and licked her to her first orgasm of the night. She then told me to lay down.

As I did she started to kiss me all over then she took her tongue and started to lick my pussy. I couldn't believe how good this felt. She then stuck her tongue inside of me and I exploded into my first real female orgasm. After we both orgasmed again Sarah pulled out a dildo from a drawer and fucked me with it all night.

After we were done Sarah smiled and told me that I was the first lesbian experience she ever had. Matter of fact I was the first female she was ever attracted to. I smiled and said she was my first lesbian experience also and by far better than I ever imagined. We laid in each other's arms until morning's first light.

In the morning she made breakfast for us and tried to return the $200 I gave her. I refused to take it back as she let me rent the room. She kissed me again and said that I could stay as long as I like. I thanked her and told her that I was going out to buy some clothes but I would take her up on her offer.

After that I got dressed and went back to the local mall. When I got there, I had all my credit cards and cash. I went from store to store and purchased everything I would need from clothes to underwear, to shoes, and even makeup. I was about to leave the mall when I again saw Evie's Emporium. I stopped in to look at the clothes and the accessories there.

I saw Mara this time she was helping a very handsome male customer. I also saw Erica helping an older woman with clothing this time. I was looking at collars when I was approached by another woman. She told me her name was Evie and that she was the owner of the Emporium. I asked what they did here at the store and she told me that she loves to bring out ones inner bitch and make dreams come true.

I then went and thanked her and told her what a life-changing experience this store has been. I then purchased a few more items including a couple collars, some more permanent elixirs and even something called SimpX. You never know when you might need something I thought. I then left the store and walked around for a little while.

I then went back to the hotel to wait for Sarah to get off of work. I had bought some groceries and decided to make her a wonderful dinner. As soon as I arrived at the hotel, I could see Sarah behind the counter helping someone with their reservation. I just smiled at her and went back to our room. When I got back to the room, I pulled some items out of my bag, put my clothes and shoes away and then took a long sensual bath touching myself the entire time thinking of Sarah.

After my bath I started to make dinner. I made pasta and pulled out some red wine that I bought. When Sarah finally came in, I watched her eyes bulge out. I was sitting on the couch in a brand-new pair of blue lingerie and sitting on the table next to me was our dinner. She started to head over to the bedroom when I stopped her. I told her to come on and eat first and then we can play. Sarah blushed and then sat down.

As we ate, we talked about each other's day. I told her how I went to the mall and made a bunch of purchases. I then told her that I was looking for a new place to live and maybe even a job. I asked her if she liked what she was doing. She looked at me and said she hated her job but this is the only job she knew. Then I told her I came up with an idea: what if she didn't have to work, what if neither of us had to work? She looked at me very inquisitive and said what do you mean? I then pulled out a bottle of Elixir.

This bottle will change your life like it did for me. I was a nobody going nowhere, then I took this bottle and I became a goddess. How would you like that to happen for you? Sarah smiled and asked me how so I handed her a bottle of elixir and I told her to drink it. Sarah, with no question asked, drank it down and then she began to change.

Her hair grew out and got darker almost like a blood red, her body grew out to make her almost the same age as I am. Her eyes became more vibrant and looked incredible. I then went back into my bag and grabbed a magic collar.

This collar said evil bestie on it. I asked her if she wanted to wear it if she wanted to be my evil bestie, Sarah grabbed it and threw it on her own neck and I knew we were meant to be. She also asked me to call her Delilah from now on. That night we took turns using the strap on i bought and fucked each other all night long. Right before we fell asleep I looked into Delilah's eyes and knew that she was the one that I truly loved.

The next day it was time to put my plan into action. Delilah and I left early from the hotel on her day off. We went to visit my friend Robert. Robert was a millionaire who lived in a giant mansion with many servants. When we got to his place I knocked on the door and his Butler answered. I told him I wanted to see Robert that I'm a friend of a friend and I gave him Richard's name. Robert immediately came to the door and let us in.

I pulled Robert into his living room and talked to him and told him that myself and Sarah wanted to show him the time of his life. So, Robert then let us into his bedroom where we all undressed and had three-way sex. While Robert was resting, I decided to put my plan into action. I took out a vial of SimpX and poured it down his throat.

The change was almost immediate; he had gone from a 6-foot man to a very feminized 5'2 sissy. His hair had grown longer, gone from a sandy brown to a very dark brown.

He was still naked from our sexual adventure so I could see his cock shrink till it's just a little cockle. When he woke up, I put a magic collar around his neck that said slave and locked his cockle in a cage. He immediately addressed me as mistress and asked what he could do to service me. I pulled out more of the magic collars and told him to call in his servants one at a time as they will soon be mine. Robert agreed and I proceeded to turn his Butler into a female slave. And then all the maids into my slaves also.

Almost a month later since we moved in with Robert. Delilah and I have not been happier. We have sex every night in front of Robert while he has his cock caged. I keep thinking maybe to use the elixir on Robert but not yet. I happened to be resting outside by the pool when I saw a very familiar face show up next to me.

I saw my ex-wife Victoria and my daughter Amanda. They came to see Robert. It appears that my ex-wife and my daughter had used elixir from what the sissy Robert told us and were using their elixir bodies to fuck him for money behind my back.

I started to talk to Victoria and asked her if she was married. She laughed and said no, my husband disappeared almost a month ago. Then she started to laugh. He was such an idiot, she said. I asked her what she meant by that and she told me that she had Robert tell him about AdoniX. So she knew her husband would be interested in buying it since she hasn't been interested in him in years.

I laughed too, yeah what an idiot I said then what? She told me that she then had my daughter sneak into the bedroom and change the vials from AdoniX to a permanent Elixir. She could only imagine what her husband looks like now. We laughed about it a little bit more and then I asked her if she would like to see a new room in the house.

She said yes and she followed me. I introduced Amanda to Delilah then pulled her aside and told her my plan. I had Delilah show Amanda her bedroom. When Victoria and I reached my bedroom I pushed her down on the bed and knocked her out. When she awoke she asked me why I did what I did . I just looked her in the eyes and told her “Thank you, you stuck up bitch!”

“I love my new life now”, she then had a look of fear in her eyes that made my pussy very wet. I will never forget the look in her eyes when she realized it was me. I said” I love being an evil bitch. I get to fuck a woman I love and now I get my revenge on you. You worthless cunt.”

She tried to get up to hit me but then realized that I had tied her to the bed. I then went to my closet and got out the slave collar. I threw it around her neck. I kissed her once more on the lips and told her I want a divorce. I then had an evil smile and said welcome to slavery bitch. Meanwhile in Delilah‘s room she did the same thing to Amanda.

Less than a year later Delilah and I got married. I love the way that she treats my ex-wife and my daughter. She treats them like the worthless slaves they are. That was something about her that absolutely turned me on.

I gave them both my ex-wife and daughter permanent Elixir and used two more collars on both of them, the slut collar and also the bimbo collar. They both work at the local strip club making money to bring home to me.

Robert, I decided to turn him into Roberta. I gave him elixir but again used the slave and slut collar on him or her. She actually is now my personal maid. Also my three friends I alluded to earlier, are enjoying their new lives and couldn't be happier! I love my life now and just to think at one point in time I was a little tired of life.

Also my three friends I alluded to earlier, are enjoying their new lives and couldn't be happier! I love my life now and just to think at one point in time I was a little tired of life.

If it wasn't for Evie , Erica, Mara, all the other writers who bring out the best in transformations this wouldn't have been written.

Thank you all

#transformation story #m2f transformation #elixer

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seraqhites · 1 year ago

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#rubis jukebox *ੈ✩‧₊˚#2 PHONE BABY KEEM FUCK YOU MEAN😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨#I AM HERE HOE #just remembered this song and i’m cumming #WHY IS IT SO GOOD #am i just high.#because hhoooolllyyy fuck #Spotify

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vicsnook · 4 months ago

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Good Luck, Babe! | Jake Seresin x Reader

word count: 6,560

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+, Unprotected PinV

notes: Hey friends! I know I've kind of dropped off the face of the Earth since the new year. I've had massive writer's block due to some personal stuff but I think I am finally out of the funk. Please forgive me for any errors, I wrote this on and off the past few months so I hope it doesn't come off terrible. I plan to make this a 2 possible 3 parter so leave some feedback and let me know if you want more. Hope you like it & please don't forget to like and reblog! 🫶🏼

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I agreed to come on a date to the famous Hard Deck but thankfully I’m not disappointed yet. The jukebox is playing old country songs and some couples are dancing on the makeshift dance floor, "this is definitely my kind of place," I think.

I approach the bar and look for my date Mickey, who waves me over from a corner booth. He kisses my cheek and slides his arm around me as we slide into the cozy booth. “So m’lady what can I get you to drink?” he asks, his eyes scanning my face but before I can answer a blonde man slides into the seat across from us.

Mickey’s face turns red immediately as the blonde grabs his beer and takes a swig. “My apologies, am I interrupting anything, Fanboy?” asks the blonde with a southern drawl, flashing me what I could only describe as a million-dollar smile. “Yes, Hangman, so I'd appreciate it if you could make yourself scarce,” growls Mickey, beginning to stand up and holding his hand out for me to follow.

“And leave this lovely lady alone with you? Not a chance,” responds the blonde, now standing in front of Mickey and in our way. “This lovely lady would also like you to make yourself scarce and stop bothering her date,” I said to the blonde, who just like Mickey turned to me with a look of shock.

Before “Hangman” could respond, I grabbed hold of Mickey’s hand and led us out the side door and down the ramp onto the beach. When we came to a halt, Mickey was still looking at me slack-jawed. “That was awesome! No one’s ever put Hangman in his place,” he raves, as I giggle in amusement. “Yeah, well he sure seemed like he needed it. Anywho, I don’t take it, he's a friend?” I ask. He shook his head and then explained all about how Hangman was just his insufferable coworker who thought that because he had the only confirmed air kill of this generation he was above anyone.

“And that’s the story of Hangman, anyway, fancy getting some ice cream mademoiselle?” asked Mickey while extending his arm for me to hold. “Of course,” I reply and chuckle as we make our way to the ice cream parlor by the boardwalk.

The rest of the afternoon went by without a hitch as I learned more about my date whose call sign was “Fanboy” due to his adorable obsession with Star Trek. That night I didn’t waste any time texting him that I had a great time and looked forward to seeing him again.

Maybe my mom was right when she suggested I needed to get back to the dating scene. As I lay there waiting on sleep to come, an image of Hangman flashes through my head and I can't help the feeling in my stomach. Shaking my head, I bury it deep down with memories from my date with Mickey.

I won't let anything ruin my happiness at this moment. That was until I woke up this morning and saw that my blue text had turned green and was unanswered.

Just my absolute luck to get blocked after what I thought was a good first date.

I went on with the rest of the week trying to feel unbothered about being blocked but it still crept into my mind every once in while. And that’s how I ended up parked in front of the Hard Deck on what seems like a very busy night.

I sigh and put the car in reverse, this is pathetic. But before I go any further, a blonde Ken doll look-alike catches my eye and I realize it’s Hangman walking in, which I hope means Mickey is probably inside.

Putting the car back in park, I take one last look in the rearview mirror and reapply my red lipstick. Time to show that WSO what he missed out on.

I’m immediately surrounded by a sea of aviators in their dress whites when I step inside, and a couple of them shoot me hungry looks. I take a deep breath and plunge through the crowd to make my way toward the back where I think catch sight of Mickey and his friends but I soon collide with a very very hard chest before I can reach him.

“So we meet again, lovely lady?” I hear as I tilt my head up and make eye contact with the owner of the hard chest whose hands are holding my waist steadying me. And wouldn't you know it, it’s none other than Hangman who is once again sporting that blinding smile. Up close I can see how green his eyes are and good lord all I can think is how this man is way too damn perfect.

I clear my throat and back away as his hands fall off my waist but I don’t get very far because his hand firmly grasps mine and I’m spun back into his chest once again. “What the hell are you-” I try to ask but my words die when I see the hungry look in his eye. “Not so chatty now, are you?” He smirks at me and I feel my cheeks burn. “What do you want?” I manage to croak, feeling now even more embarrassed to have come here tonight.

“Well for starters, I want to lead you out the door to my truck, then I want take you somewhere nice to dinner, and what I want most is to have those pretty red lips of yours around my cock by the end of the night, darlin’" He whispers in my ear, his breath on my neck making my head spin.

Usually, I would slap any man who spoke to me that way but my brain was currently short-circuiting tonight so I just nodded and followed him out the door into the parking lot to take part in what will probably be a very big mistake tomorrow.

His hand sits on my lower back as he leads me to his truck that is conveniently parked at the very end of the parking lot and before I can convince myself to back out of this we have reached the passenger door. He opens the door for me and helps me into the seat before rounding the truck and getting in too. His scent fills my nostrils, sage and sandalwood.

“I’m not sure I ever properly introduced myself, my name’s Jake Seresin.” He tells me as he pulls into the highway and I pull myself together long enough to mutter mine back. I take him in as he drives and notice the scar above his eyebrow and how rosy his lips look, and I can’t help but think of how good they would feel on mine.

I doubt any of my friends would be supportive of me throwing caution to the wind but something about Jake makes saying no, impossible. A spark goes through me when his hand comes to rest on my thigh just below the hem of my dress, and I sure hope I haven’t soaked the seat.

We pull up to a restaurant downtown that I only ever heard of because of because of it being expensive but before I can protest he is getting out of the truck and coming to open my door. “Jake, this is too much. I -” his fingers come to rest on my lips effectively shushing my protests. “Baby, I’m going to lavish you tonight and I mean that in more ways than one.”

His eyes are locked into mine as I nod. No man has ever managed to render me speechless, much less make me so agreeable but I guess that changes tonight.

The food and wine are exquisite and the conversation flows smoothly between us and I can’t help but want more of this man. My once disdain for him now vanished.

He tells me of growing up in Texas on his family’s ranch and of his rodeo days that ended too quickly when his father passed. He talks of how he joined the Navy to be able to support his family. I notice his eyes darken as he talks of missing home and how lonely his job can be because he acts like an asshole to keep people away, and I feel myself reaching for his hand to comfort him. He smiles gratefully, then casually turns the conversation back to me.

So I tell him of my sister, Meredith, who died a few years back because of a drunk driver which led me to pursue a career in law seeing as the man who killed her is free and she didn’t get justice. He squeezes my hand in comfort and I tell him that I moved to Miramar to get away from my hometown because everything reminds me of Mer and I wanted a fresh start and how I’ve been here a year now and hardly know anyone because I’ve thrown myself into my work instead of dealing with my grief.

I shudder when I’m done when I realize I’ve bared my soul to someone who I hardly know but I don’t overthink for long because Jake’s hand reaches out and caresses my face. He settles the bill and ignores my pleas to let me pay for at least half and once we’re back in the truck I realize that it’s nearly midnight and he asks for directions back to my place which I give without a second thought.

He follows me in and I curse at myself when I see the mess of paperwork on the living room table. “Sorry, I don’t usually have guests over,” I tell him, and he shrugs it off and helps me straighten the papers up. We settle in the small couch and I can feel the heat radiating off his body and the nerves finally kick in. “Um, can I get you something to drink?” I ask, looking over at the TV that is not even on. “No, thank you, Angel. Look, I know what I said at the bar but we don't have to do anything you don't want to do.” He assures me, my eyes finally making contact with his. But I don’t want him to go and I feel an urgent need to feel his skin against mine so I do the only thing I can think of and kiss him.

He kisses me slowly and carefully like I might pull away and dismiss him any second so I move closer to him and then climb onto his lap. He groans as I straddle him and I take the chance to slip my tongue into his mouth, savoring the taste of him. His fingers dip into my waist as I bite his lip and pull back. His eyes are blown with lust and I know then there is no going back.

His mouth kisses along my jaw and down to my neck and I moan loudly as he finds that spot just below my ear that drives me crazy. “Are you sure about this?” He asks, leaving kisses just above the neckline of my dress. “Yes, I need you, Jake, please,” I beg as he slides the straps of my dress down and his mouth trails down kisses, latching onto my perky nippe.

I arch my back and the dress pools at my hips, the cold air on my skin making me shiver for a moment until his warm chest presses against mine and I realize he’s ditched his shirt. I run my hands through his chiseled chest and think to myself that this is the kind of body that Greek statues are made of.

“Where’s your room?” he asks, between kisses and I feel another current surge through me. “At the end of the hall,” I manage to croak and he moves forward so I can wrap my legs around him and then he leads us to my room. The very short hallway feels infinite as he holds me against the wall and his hands run all over my body and I’m now shaking with desire.

“Jake, please,” I beg and I feel him grin against my neck and I blush in the dark as he nibbles on my neck leaving what I know tomorrow will be a very noticeable hickey. He finally takes us into my room and places me on the bed and as he towers over me it sinks in what I’m about to do and a shiver of excitement runs through me.

He pulls down the rest of my dress and I am left in my very small thong, he places his hand over my core and I quiver against it. “Eager aren’t we?” He whispers as he cups the thin fabric of my thong and slowly slides it down, pressing kisses onto my leg as he finally gets it off and stuffs it into his back pocket.

I raise an eyebrow at him in response, but he ignores it as he slides off the bed and pulls me to the edge of the bed where he kneels on the floor. I blush as I feel his warm breath on my thigh as he kisses his way to my core pausing just before reaching it, our eyes lock and I see that he is looking for reassurance. I nod, not trusting my words and within seconds he is eating me out like he is starving and my pussy is a full-course meal.

I moan his name loudly and tug at his hair but he doesn’t slow down and I feel myself getting close when he eases a finger in and he must sense that I’m close to reaching an orgasm because he pulls my thighs even further apart and adds another finger. My moans turn to whimpers as he keeps edging me. I shake against him while he uses his fingers to coax me through my orgasm. “Good girl,” he mumbles as he slowly raises himself and placing a kiss on my lips and I want more.

“Fuck me, Jake,” I whimper as he settles beside me in the bed but I get a response that I was not expecting. “Not yet angel,” he whispers as he caresses my arm that fills with goosebumps as he gets further up and he turns my head to look at him. His green eyes are staring into mine so deeply I think he can read my needy thoughts. I run my hand down his chest and stop at his belt buckle, his eyes following my every move, and I decide to give him what he asked for at the beginning of the night.

Pulling him off the bed with me I take notice of my shaky legs but still, I kneel in front of him and undo his belt. I can feel his eyes on me as I ease his pants down and palm him through his boxers. A groan escapes him as I slide his cock free of the boxers and suck on his swollen tip. “Fuck,” he moans as I take him in my mouth and I feel myself getting wetter as he starts to fuck my face.

But he’s careful yet again so I grab onto his hips and increase the pace, eliciting various groans from him and when I meet his eyes he slowly stills me. “I want to come inside you,” he says, his voice husky with lust. His arms reach to pull me up and I’m back on the bed before I can protest.

“I’m not going to be as slow and careful, honey. I’m going to fuck you so hard that you can’t walk tomorrow, so stop me now if that’s not what you want,” he whispers in my ear and I shiver with excitement. I reply by pulling him down to me and kissing him as hard as I possibly can. Without warning he’s stretching me open, and before I can even catch a breath, he’s thrusting hard into me again.

His fingers are digging into my waist as I scream in pleasure, “Taking me so good, baby,” he groans while leaving more hickeys on my neck. He continues to thrust hard and fast and I’m shaking with pleasure.

My moans get louder as his finger finds my clit and I worry the neighbors will call the cops. But he seems unfazed as he continues to fuck me through it. I whimper loudly, my legs sliding off his sides as I reach my orgasm. “I’m almost there, honey,” he whispers in my ear but I barely acknowledge him, still lost in my high.

He fills me with his sweet release as I come down from my own. His green eyes boring into mine as he slowly pulls out and I feel his cum slipping out of me. “Look at you, baby. I made a mess out of you,” he grins, laying at my side and pulling me to him.

I lay my head on his chest as exhaustion takes over and any thought of getting myself sorted out flies out the window. He kisses my hairline and the last thing I hear is him saying “good girl” as sleep envelops me in his arms.

I wake up to my body aching as memories from last night flood back in and I smile, turning over, only to find the bed empty. Only my dress is in the corner of my bedroom floor, no sign of Jake or my thong. I curse to myself as I get up and feel even more sore if that’s even possible. He sure meant that he would fuck me til I couldn't walk.

The apartment is deadly quiet and I head to the bathroom which I find empty as well. Pulling on my robe, I check the living room which to no one’s surprise is also empty, and as I look out the window, I notice Jake’s truck is gone and then it hits me that my car is still parked at the Hard Deck.

Fuck me.

I check around the rest of the apartment and find no note anywhere. Disappointment creeps in as I decide to finally go shower and get him off my skin. When I catch sight of myself in the bathroom mirror, I see the damage he left on my neck and chest is extensive. Angry reddish marks stare back at me and I doubt all the concealer in the world can help cover what he did.

The next few weeks are a blur as I throw myself into my work and vow to never return to the Hard Deck. Long nights working keep me occupied so much so that I don’t realize my period is late for a week, and that’s when it dawns on me that we didnt use protection and of course, I hadn’t been on the pill.

The pharmacy is crowded as I buy a pregnancy test, and I glare at the cashier who very loudly yells “Good luck!” as I walk out. Traffic is awful too on the way home and I feel myself getting more anxious by the second.

I practically run to the bathroom as soon as I’m home and finally pee on the stupid stick. 5 minutes feel like an eternity when your future rests on the other side. The timer goes off and as I flip the test over, I grab hold of the vanity to steady myself as I stare back at the two pink lines that signify my worst fear.

I’m pregnant.

click here for part 2!

taglist: @harperdoodle , @weirdothatwritess , @rosiahills22 (y’all let me know if you dont want me to tag anymore)

#top gun maverick #top gun fandom #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin

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