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punkshort · 9 months

Text

something only you can give

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You, Joel and Sarah head to NYC for a long weekend and celebrate New Years Eve together.

Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, soft!joel, slight jealousy/possessiveness, a little cheesy because this is still a Hallmark-type story

WC: 8.2K

A/N: I had so many requests for more from this couple, and the original story was so successful, so I thought up a little NYE story. Also I absolutely needed to use this pic for something because it's haunting my dreams. Hope you enjoy ✨

Series Masterlist

Wednesday

"Oh my god! Look, Dad! You can see the Statue of Liberty!" Sarah squealed, yanking on Joel's shoulder to make him look out of the tiny, oval window of the airplane. Joel smiled as he leaned over to peer out.

"Looks cold out there, hope you're ready," he told her, looking down at the darkened, snow covered streets.

"It gets cold in Texas, too," Sarah scoffed.

"Not like this," Joel told her, sitting back in his seat.

His hand dipped over the armrest to find yours, your fingers lacing together, making you smile and pull out your earbuds.

"Hey," he said softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling with excitement. You grinned and wondered if this man would ever not give you butterflies. You hoped not.

"What do you wanna do tonight?" you asked him, running your thumb over his dry knuckles. He shrugged.

"Let's just check into the hotel and get some room service or somethin'," he said. "You got a big day tomorrow, you need your sleep."

He wasn't wrong. Your trip had multiple purposes. Tomorrow, you had to go back into your office to collect some computer equipment in order to work from home, back in Austin. Then on Friday, you planned to rent a U-Haul and load up all your belongings from Melanie's apartment. You had hoped to time it so that you could go there while she was at work, but the unfortunate part was she worked in the same office as you. So, you had to just hope all your meetings tomorrow would keep you busy enough that you didn't run into her at all while you were there.

And since this trip was technically your Christmas gift to Joel and Sarah, you planned on exploring the city together the rest of the time. Sarah already had a list of things she was desperate to see while you were there, and you planned on checking off as many as you could.

"I'm so excited to stay in a hotel!" Sarah said after overhearing you and Joel. "I only got to stay in one once, when I was super little. I barely even remember."

"I remember plenty," Joel said, rolling his eyes. "You wouldn't fall asleep til almost two in the morning. Drove me nuts."

Before you knew it, the pilot was announcing the plane's descent into JFK. By the time you filed off the plane and collected your luggage (and 45 minutes spent at the lost luggage counter claiming the suitcase you checked the week before when you decided to skip your flight) you were all exhausted. You yawned as you leaned up against the check in counter at the hotel, your arm around Sarah's shoulders as she rested her head against you, waiting for the receptionist to make your keys. You took one from Joel's outstretched hand as you filed into the elevator, your luggage in tow.

"What's our room numbers?" Sarah asked sleepily. You looked down at the card in your hand as you stepped off the elevator.

"305 and 306, they're right next to each other. I'll knock in the morning before I head out and say bye," you told her, heading down the long carpeted hall with a dizzying pattern. Sarah frowned.

"I don't get the extra room?"

"No, you're with me," Joel said, swiping the card and pushing the door open.

"But Dad!" Sarah whined. Joel sighed and held the door, waiting for her to come in the room. He raised his eyebrows at her when she didn't move.

"Let's get a move on, I'm beat," he urged, but she just made a face and crossed her arms.

"Why would you two sleep apart? That doesn't make any sense," Sarah countered, and you felt the tips of your ears burn as you stood in front of the other door, the key hovering over the lock, waiting to bid them good night.

"You're too young to be on your own," Joel began to explain, but she shook her head defiantly.

"I'm sixteen, Dad. Please? Pretty please? I'll be right next door, it'll be fine!"

Joel sighed again and rubbed the palm of his hand over his face.

"You're lucky I'm too tired to be arguin' with you," he muttered, stepping back out into the hall to look at you. "You okay with that?"

"Y-yeah, of course," you stammered, handing Sarah your hotel key, which she took excitedly with a triumphant smile spread wide across her face. "It is your Christmas gift, after all."

"You wanna order somethin' to eat with us at least?" Joel asked her as you walked past him into the room.

"I'm not that hungry," she said, opening the door. "Let's just go for a big breakfast tomorrow." And with that, she disappeared inside her room.

"Sorry," Joel told you as he set his bag down on the spare queen bed.

"Oh, I think I'll get over it," you teased with a wink. You pulled back the covers and collapsed on your back with a groan, closing your tired eyes.

Joel's lips brushed gently over yours, and a slow smile spread across your face. Without opening your eyes, you lifted your arms to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling him down to you. Even though you felt like you could sleep for a year, you couldn't get enough of him.

"You hungry?" you asked him when he finally pulled back.

"Not for food," he said with a smirk, nipping at your jaw, and you felt your cheeks flare with heat.

You twirled your fingers around his curls and hummed against his mouth, trying to stifle a yawn, but Joel noticed.

"You got a big day tomorrow," he reminded you again, kissing the tip of your nose, and you nodded.

"I know, but -"

"It's okay, baby. Go get ready for bed. We're here all weekend," he said, giving you a quick kiss before helping you up.

You headed to the bathroom begrudgingly. You knew he was right, but it was so hard to not take advantage of every single private moment you possibly could. You wouldn't stay the night at Joel's house if Sarah was there. He claimed she wouldn't mind, but it just didn't feel right. However, you hoped to open up more possibilities for you both when you got back to Texas and begin checking out all the apartments your sister, Cassie, very eagerly found for you.

Thursday

You adjusted your skirt as your train came to your usual stop. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was really just a month since you last made this commute, and you came to realize you absolutely did not miss it. The rude people shoving past, the weird smells of the subway station, and the delightful random power outages that made you late for work left little to be desired. You kept telling yourself this was the last time you would have to make this trip as you trudged up the steps and onto the bustling street. You wrapped your scarf tighter around your face as the blistering wind took your breath away. By the time you made it the four blocks to your office, your eyes were watering from the cold and wind. You took a moment to dab at the corners of your eyes before heading into the lobby and to the elevators.

You made a beeline for your cubical, trying to keep your head down and avoid getting caught in any conversations that would just end with the other person being nosy. You had no doubt rumors were swirling around the office when those pictures of Will and Melanie appeared on Instagram. Combined with the fact that you were conveniently out of town for the month made for the juiciest office gossip.

Opening up your Outlook, you confirmed the first meeting you had was with Brian in IT in less than ten minutes. You had just enough time to use the bathroom and grab some coffee before he met you at your desk with all your required equipment. He spent the next hour going over in painstaking detail how to set up all of the devices while you furiously took notes. Fortunately, none of it seemed bulky or heavy, so you wouldn't have a problem getting it on and off the subway.

Next, you had a meeting with HR to review a revised contract now that you were accepting a fully remote position, even though it was the exact same job you were doing before, it required all new paperwork.

By lunchtime, you finally managed to get an hour to yourself. You snuck out of the office to grab a sandwich at your favorite deli and checked in with Joel.

You: busy morning, my head is spinning... can't wait to leave - what are you guys up to?

Joel: Sarah wanted to see Central Park. Figured I would spare you, it's freezing out here but I can't get her away from the damn ice rink.

You: try not to get run over this time ;)

Joel: I only let that happen when you're around to save me.

You giggled to yourself as you walked down the street back to your office, the cold air not bothering you so much anymore.

You: ah I should have known it was all an act. Nobody could ever bring Joel Miller to his knees

Joel: Just you, baby.

You blushed and sent him a quick heart emoji before pocketing your phone and heading back into your building.

As you got off the elevator, you were distracted thinking about Joel and Sarah, wishing that you could be with them instead of stuck in your stuffy office building all day, but you comforted yourself with the fact that you'll all be crammed into a U-Haul truck for almost two days soon enough.

You had your head down, rummaging through your purse and not paying attention when you heard a familiar voice nervously say your name as you passed. You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat and turned around. You knew the odds of seeing her were pretty high, but since you managed to avoid her all morning, you had convinced yourself you might just get through the whole day.

"Hi, Melanie," you said, your voice strained.

"You look good!" she replied, giving you a cheesy grin. You nodded and forced a small smile in return.

"I was gonna stop by and get my stuff during the day tomorrow, if that's okay," you said, and she quickly nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Hey, listen... did you have a minute? I think we should talk," she asked, chewing her lower lip nervously. You glanced around the hallway, noting the looks you were getting from your coworkers who were no doubt trying to eavesdrop. You looked down at the time on your phone, your heartbeat slowing a fraction when you saw the picture of you and Joel kissing under the mistletoe as your background.

"I only have ten minutes," you said, hoping to dissuade her, but unfortunately she eagerly accepted your offer.

"Here, why don't we go into conference room B, there's no meetings scheduled," she said, leading you to the door, away from prying eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Melanie blurted out the moment she shut the door. "I was wasted. It's not an excuse, but I swear it only happened after you broke up. And it's over now."

When you saw the pictures, you had just assumed she was the girl Will was cheating on you with when you caught lipstick smeared on his neck after a night out. She could have been lying, but you weren't sure what the point would be, other than to try to clean up her reputation.

"That was really fucked up," you told her. You couldn't help it. It still stung to be betrayed by not only the man you were ready to spend your life with, but one of your closest friends, as well.

"I know," Melanie said, tears welling in her eyes. "You don't have to forgive me, I get it. But I just needed to tell you to your face. I just feel so awful that you're leaving town over it."

"Oh, I'm not moving because of you or Will," you said, taken aback. "Is that what people think?"

"I-I don't know. Maybe? It doesn't matter. Just as long as you're happy," she said, giving you what felt like a genuine smile.

"I'm moving because I met someone," you clarified. "Back home. In Texas, over Christmas."

"Oh, that's great! Good for you!" Melanie said, giving your shoulder a playful nudge, and you frowned.

You were about to argue with her, sensing that she didn't believe you and she was trying to help you save face, but you let it go. It didn't matter, anyway.

"I should be getting back, I have a meeting with Mike soon to go over this remote work thing," you told her, referring to your boss.

"I think it's great they allowed you to do that," she said, and you swore it sounded a little condescending, but you couldn't be certain.

"They offered it to me, actually. I didn't ask. I was giving them my resignation. Guess they really like my work or something, huh?"

You gave her a mocking smile as you headed back to your cube. At the end of the day, you were happy, and ironically it turned out to be the best thing that could have ever happened to you. But you didn't want to tell her that. It wasn't your responsibility to absolve her or anyone else of the guilt they had for what they did.

Joel met you down at the lobby when you texted and let him know you were getting off the subway. When he saw you lugging bags of computer equipment under your arm, he quickly rushed over to take it from you.

"Thank you," you said in relief, clenching your sore hand. He leaned down to press a soft kiss against your lips, and all the aggravation you still carried with you from earlier vanished. You were home.

"Have a good day?" he asked as you walked over to the elevator bank.

"Uh," you said, not really interested in rehashing your conversation with Melanie. "It was alright. Missed you guys a lot, though. Did you have fun?"

"Sarah had a great time. After the park, I took her to some cupcake spot she heard about online, then she swindled me into shoppin' for clothes. I think she's up there going through all her new stuff right now," he told you with a grin, jabbing the 3 button in the elevator.

You laughed and shook your head. Joel loved spoiling his daughter, he just liked to pretend otherwise.

"What should we do tonight?" you asked him as you followed him down the hall towards your room.

"Sarah wanted to try this Chinese restaurant nearby, you like Chinese?" he asked over his shoulder, realizing at the last minute he actually had no idea.

"Sure I do," you said with a grin.

"Then after, thought we could check out some huge tree. Probably won't get another chance for a long time."

"You mean the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree?" you asked, and he snapped his fingers.

"That's the one."

You giggled, as if there was another one that could compare to the most famous Christmas tree in the world.

After dinner, where Sarah insisted you all order something different and share, you headed to Rockefeller Plaza. As expected, it was insanely crowded, but none of you cared. The tree was massive and lit up in front of a huge ice rink, where families and couples glided around giggling and falling into each other.

Mercifully, Sarah said she got her fill of ice skating earlier in the day, so the three of you found an empty spot against the railing to watch all the skaters and admire the tree. Sarah pulled out her phone to take pictures, scurrying a few feet in both directions to try to get the best angle while Joel stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and his prickly chin resting in the crook of your neck.

For the first time in a long time, Joel felt content. He felt like he had everything he could ever want: his little girl was happy and he had someone who loved him, someone who cared for him and wanted to be with him just as badly as he wanted to be with you. And the way you were with Sarah made his heart swell with so much love, he thought it might burst. It finally felt like the last puzzle piece in his life was found, a piece he didn't even realize he needed to survive until he met you.

The three of you walked slowly back to your hotel. Joel's hand linked with yours while Sarah skipped ahead, occasionally stopping and turning to look up at the huge skyscrapers in awe.

He watched as you laughed at Sarah's antics, your eyes lit up and your smile wide as she babbled on and on about how cool the city was and all the things she wanted to do tomorrow. You turned to look at him and when you noticed he had already been gazing at you with so much adoration, you blushed.

"What?" you asked when he didn't look away. "Do I have something in my teeth?" He laughed.

"Just can't believe I get to sleep next to the most beautiful girl in the world tonight," he said quietly so Sarah wouldn't overhear. The color on your cheeks deepened as you shook your head.

"There's literal models walking the streets here, you know," you teased.

"Seen 'em. They don't hold a candle to you," he said sincerely. You bit your lower lip, trying to contain your grin, and playfully shoved his shoulder.

"C'mon, charmer. Let's get back to the room," you told him, leaning into his arm and wrapping your free hand around his bicep, pulling him close.

"Tired?" he asked, watching Sarah shoot ahead a bit to look into the front windows of various shops.

"Nope," you said. His eyes shot over to yours and he smirked.

"Good."

Joel loved a lot of things about you. He loved the way you laughed, he loved how you pretended to like the action movies he suggested for movie night, and he loved how you insisted on helping him cook, just so you could be near him. But he especially loves the way you whisper his name breathlessly in his ear when he first sinks himself into you. The way you say it makes his heart flutter in his chest, like you were saying a prayer or sharing a secret that was only meant for his ears. Even throughout the day, whether he was at work or driving in the car or grocery shopping, he replayed it over and over in his head, like a mantra.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

He couldn't get enough of it. Like a catchy jingle that refused to leave his head. But nothing was like actually hearing it in his ear. It sent goosebumps all over his body every time. He rolled his hips and watched your lips part and your eyelids droop. It's only been a few weeks but you knew each others bodies so well, already. He never put much stock into the idea of soulmates, but for the first time in his life, he was starting to believe it. The instant connection you both had combined with the way your bodies fit so perfectly together left him with few other explanations.

Your fingers raked through his curls, nails gently scraping his scalp in just the right way that made a tingle shoot down his spine and a quiet moan slip past his lips. God, he fucking loved when you did that. He mentally added it to the ever growing list of reasons he loved you as his mouth descended upon your neck, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin while his lips leisurely roamed the column of your throat, stilling only when he found your pulse point thrumming steadily against his tongue.

If he could stay inside you forever, he would. His body constantly ached to be near you, to show you how much you meant to him, to prove to you he was devoted to you in every way. And the best part was, he felt all of that in return. Your hand always searched for his, whether you were in the car or walking down the street, you needed his touch just as badly as he craved yours. Even if it wasn't clear, the fact you gave up your whole life in this exciting city just to move to Texas more than proved your feelings for him.

"Joel," you whimpered again, your hands sliding from his hair to the sides of his head, dragging his face up so you could lock your lips with his. As the volume of your moans increased, he realized you were trying to muffle the sounds against his mouth, and the mere thought that he could give you so much pleasure that you couldn't even control the sound of your own voice made his knees weak.

"So beautiful," he gasped, pulling his face away so he could look at you, the pressure in his stomach building and his muscles tightening with every thrust. You bit down on your lower lip, trying desperately to stay quiet so his daughter wouldn't overhear in the next room. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good," he groaned softly, and watched as your eyes fluttered shut and your cheeks reddened at the compliment.

His big hand gripped your thigh, yanking it up so your leg hooked around his waist and he could delve deeper, his hips circling as he watched your face, waiting until he saw your eyes fly open and your jaw drop. Right there.

"Ohmygod," you whined, your brows pinching together as he felt your climax building around him.

"That's it," he mumbled hotly against your ear. He would never get tired of making you feel good. The way you fell apart for him like this made him feel like a man, like if he could do that for you, he could be capable of anything.

"I'm-" you began, but your gasp cut you off.

"I know, baby, I can feel it," he assured you, nibbling on your jaw. "Doin' so good."

Your nails dug into his bare shoulders as you hung onto him for dear life while your orgasm shot through you like lightning. You buried your face against his neck and let out a muffled scream that sounded like a garbled version of his name, and a lazy smile spread across his face.

"There we go," he said softly, his hips keeping up the same pace that brought you over the edge so you could ride out your orgasm as long as possible.

"I love you, Joel," you whispered hoarsely against his skin once you found your voice again.

"I love you, too, baby," he said with a grunt, chasing his own high now that he was certain you were satisfied. "God, love you so fuckin' much. Can't believe I went so long without you."

He frantically latched his mouth over yours as he felt himself spill inside you with a deep groan, his breaths ragged as his hips shallowly thrusted forward until he collapsed on top of you with a sigh of relief. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close with the side of his head resting against your chest as he listened to you catch your breath.

He felt you draw lazy circles over his back with your finger, and he was convinced he could fall asleep just like this if you let him.

"Joel?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we're moving too fast?"

His eyes flew open and he tilted his chin up to look at you.

"Do you?"

"No," you said with a shake of your head, your finger still drawing patterns on his sensitive skin. "It's just - we've barely known each other for a month. Some people might find it shocking that we already say 'I love you'."

"It's not like we're teenagers," he said, nuzzling his face against your chest and closing his eyes. "I'm old enough to know how I feel 'bout you."

You grinned and kissed the top of his head.

"Me, too," you whispered, relieved to hear him say that. An insecure part of you had wondered if you pressured him into this relationship when you skipped your flight in favor of staying in Texas with him. He never gave you a reason to think otherwise, but considering how badly your last relationship ended and how you managed to ignore all the red flags, it was nice to hear Joel confirm it.

Friday

Luckily for you all, Melanie's building had a designated spot for moving trucks to temporarily park right outside the front door of the building. It was quiet, most of the residents were at work as you rode the elevator up to the 8th floor. You dug your keys out once the doors opened, and you led Joel and Sarah down the hallway and around the corner to Melanie's apartment.

"I don't have that much stuff," you assured them both as you unlocked the door. Joel shuffled a handful of flattened cardboard boxes inside and against the wall while Sarah dropped the bag of packing tape and bubble wrap on the kitchen counter.

"This place is so small, this is where you lived?" Sarah asked in disbelief. You laughed as you led her down the hall to the spare bedroom, where you had been bunking for just a few short days before you flew home to Texas for the holidays.

"I didn't stay here long. I used to live in a much bigger place, actually," you told her, opening the door and sighing at the work you had ahead of you. In your hurry to leave Will's apartment, you didn't exactly take much care in packing your things.

"Why did you move?"

"Sarah," Joel said in a warning tone, but you just shrugged.

"It's okay. I was engaged and living with the guy. It didn't work out," you told her, deciding not to get into specifics.

"How long were you together?"

"Sarah!" Joel scolded louder now.

"What?" she asked, clearly annoyed.

"Joel, it's fine, I'm over it," you laughed, waving him off as each of you began to construct the cardboard boxes. "Uh, long time. Seven years, give or take. We met in college," you told her.

Joel didn't even know that, although he had his suspicions based on pieces of information you had told him in the past. Still, hearing 'seven years' stunned him, although he knew he had no right to feel jealous. He was with his ex-wife for even longer, but he was a bit older than you, as well. But the thought of some man getting you to himself for that long and not even treating you the way you deserved set his teeth on edge.

The two of you spent most of the morning packing while Sarah continually got sidetracked looking through your purses and makeup. You took a short break after ordering in lunch, and by early afternoon you were close to finishing up.

"Shoot, I got a missed call from Tommy," Joel murmured, frowning down at his phone. "Didn't even hear it ring."

"There's really spotty reception in this building," you explained as you taped up a full box. "If you go down to the lobby, you should get a signal."

"Alright. You be good," he told Sarah, narrowing his eyes as he left the apartment.

Joel was pacing the lobby as he listened to Tommy on the other line.

"So, they brought us the wrong size?" Joel clarified. He reached up to rub his forehead with his spare hand and realized he had brought down a tape gun by mistake. Dropping his arm back down to his side, he turned around in the lobby as Tommy went into further detail about the mixup. He vaguely watched as a younger guy in an expensive looking suit tried the doors, then finding them locked, rang the bell for one of the apartments.

"Yeah so they sent us 6 size 8s when we really need 8 size 6s, right? I'll call 'em when we get back, but for now, go down to the other site on Summers. We should have size 6s there, then we'll replace 'em once I get it all sorted out."

An older lady walking her small dog got off the elevator and gave Joel a smile, which he returned with a quick nod. She held the door open for the younger man who was waiting to get buzzed in. His eyes landed on Joel, then he noticed the tape gun in his hand.

"Excuse me, are you the mover helping the girl in 807?"

Joel frowned and held up a finger. 807 was Melanie's apartment number.

"Tommy, lemme call you back," Joel said into the phone before ending the call. "Sorry, what was that?"

"You're the mover, right?" the young man asked again, now pointing to the U-Haul parked outside.

"In a way," Joel replied slowly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. "Who are you?"

"Name's Will," he said, reaching out his arm to shake Joel's hand. If Will noticed Joel tense up and hesitate before forcing himself to shake his hand, he didn't let on.

"Joel. What can I do for you, Will?" Joel asked, doing his best to keep his emotions in check.

"The girl you're moving is my ex. I've been waiting to run into her and her friend told me - sorry, you don't care about any of this," Will realized with a chuckle.

"No, it's alright. Go ahead," Joel urged, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I messed up, and I came to try to get her back but I know she'll kill me if I go up there right now and surprise her," Will said, shifting his weight and fiddling nervously with his tie.

"How'd you mess up?" Joel couldn't help but ask, his body stiffening. You were his now. He wanted to set this little punk straight, but he bit his tongue.

"I cheated on her," he replied with a shrug. "I mean, it's New York! Everyone's sleeping with everyone, I didn't think she would get so pissed about it. But since she's been gone, I've been missing her, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Joel said, a frown etching his features now. He didn't appreciate the cavalier attitude he took when he spoke about hurting you. "Real men don't cheat on their women. They treat 'em with respect, treat 'em right. Sounds like she's better off, if you ask me."

Will stared at Joel for a moment, an awkward silence filling the lobby, but Joel didn't back down. He held his glare and waited for Will to make the next move.

"You sound like you're from the South," Will said.

"Yep."

"My girl's from Texas," he added, the wheels turning.

"Don't sound like she's your girl anymore," Joel couldn't help but remind him, and Will's jaw clenched.

"Right," Will finally said, eyeing Joel up and down one more time before turning to the elevator. He pressed the call button right as the doors slid open, revealing both you and Sarah each holding a box.

You didn't notice Will at first. Your eyes immediately found Joel's and you smiled, but then you took in the look on his face and your smile wavered. You shifted your gaze to Will and your eyes widened in shock when he gave you a warm smile and said your name in greeting.

"Will," you replied coldly, all the blood draining from your face as you forced yourself to step off the elevator so the doors wouldn't close.

He took a step towards you, leaning in to plant a kiss on your cheek, but you quickly stepped back. Joel had to hide his smirk as he held out his arms for the box you were holding.

"I'll take it to the truck," he assured you, and your wide eyes flicked back to Joel. You began to shake your head and he stopped you. As much as he wanted to stay and put this guy in his place, that wasn't going to happen. Not with his daughter right next to him. He trusted you implicitly, and if you needed his help, you would ask for it.

"I'll be right back," he said softly, and you slowly released your grip on the box to allow him to take it. "C'mon, Sarah," he said. Sarah gave you a confused look as she followed Joel out the front door behind you.

"Your mover's got a kid working for him?" Will tried to joke, but you just whipped your head around to glare at him.

"My what?"

"The mover you hired. Kind of a weird guy," Will said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"What do you want, Will?" you asked, anger flaring in your belly.

"I want you back," he said bluntly. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you. I got carried away, it's no excuse but all the guys I work with at the firm all have side pieces and I just lost sight of everything and what we had." He reached a hand out to try to take yours, but you crossed your arms defensively.

"C'mon, don't be like that. We have a history together. I said I was sorry."

"I don't give a shit," you spat. "I was with you since college, Will! I was there when you were broke and failing class and I fucking helped you! And the second you get an ounce of success, that's how you repay me?"

"Listen-"

"No, I'm done listening. I wasted way too many years on you, and I'm not interested in wasting another minute." You dropped your hands to your side, about to turn around to find Joel outside when his hand shot out and grabbed your shoulder.

"What are you gonna do, huh? You think you're gonna find anyone in Texas better than me? Think again, sweetheart," Will said with a scoff. You knocked his hand roughly off your shoulder.

"I already did, actually," you couldn't help but say smugly. "Joel."

"Joel? The mover?" Will asked, looking over your shoulder and out the glass lobby doors.

"He's not my mover, you asshole, he's my boyfriend," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Oh, wow, and he's got a kid? C'mon, you gotta see how that's a step down," Will replied, tossing his hands in the air in disbelief.

"Shut the hell up," you snapped, your voice rising. Joel swung the door open just as you were finishing your sentence. "She's amazing. And Joel treats me better than you ever did, and he actually knows how to make me come!"

Joel cleared his throat behind you and you spun around on your heel, heat immediately flooding your face. To your relief, Sarah was a few seconds behind and didn't walk into the lobby until you had already stopped speaking. You looked back and forth between Joel and Sarah, your eyes wide and your heart hammering in your chest. Joel tried his best to hide his smirk by looking down at his feet, but you could see his cheeks lift and the dimple appear on the side of his mouth.

"Fine," Will said curtly, brushing past you, clearly not appreciating the hit to his manhood. He locked eyes with Joel as he was about to leave.

"Good luck, man," Will said, shaking his head.

"Doesn't sound like I need it," Joel said over his shoulder with a grin. Will paused for a moment with his hand on the lobby door before pushing forward and walking back out onto the sidewalk.

"Uh, what was that about?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow at you and Joel. You turned away, trying to hide the color on your face and neck.

"Nothin', babygirl," Joel said, his grin still plastered across his face. He draped an arm over you and Sarah's shoulders as you waited for the elevator. "Nothin' at all."

Saturday - New Years Eve

You and Joel strolled hand in hand throughout the Museum of Modern Art, gazing at the art hanging from the ceiling overhead as you made your way to the next exhibit. Sarah led the way excitedly, her crumpled brochure tight between her fingers as she made sure you got to see every single piece of art the museum had to offer.

Yesterday, you had apologized profusely to Joel the moment you were alone and Sarah couldn't overhear. He had just looked at you in surprise, not understanding what could warrant an apology. He had never felt more proud when he heard the end of your argument with Will, but you explained you felt childish and immature. Maybe you were right, but that didn't stop him from feeling like he was on top of the world. And it also didn't stop him from joining you in the shower that morning to prove to you twice that he could, in fact, make you come.

If that made him immature, then so be it.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watched Sarah lead you from piece to piece. She looked so happy and you were thrilled you were given the opportunity to be a part of her life and witness her unbridled joy for things you took for granted.

Something snapped in you when Will implied that Joel having a daughter would be a downgrade. You couldn't help your reaction, you saw red and jumped to their defense because they both meant the world to you, and you refused to let anybody say otherwise. Regardless of the history you had with Will, you realized it all meant nothing to him until he couldn't have you anymore. And once that clicked, that shared history no longer meant anything to you, either. The only thing that mattered was Joel, Sarah, and your family. Because those are the people who truly loved you, who loved you unconditionally, and that was all that mattered now.

After the museum, the three of you got hot dogs from a street vendor because according to Sarah, it wouldn't be a true New York experience without one. It had been a while since you had one, and you were surprised at how good it was. You grinned as you watched Sarah lick the mustard from her fingers and told her so far her to-do list was knocking it out of the park.

"Are you sure we can't go to Times Square tonight?" Sarah begged the both of you as you headed towards the Empire State Building next.

"People have been lining up there all morning," you explained. "We would waste the entire day, but I promise you'll still be able to see fireworks from anywhere in the city."

"It's way too cold and you gotta be squished up against people or else you lose your spot," Joel added. "Not my idea of a good time."

"Alright," Sarah said dejectedly, unable to hide her disappointment.

"Hey, I think I have a better idea," you told her, and she looked up at you expectantly. "Why don't we go up to the roof of the hotel tonight? You'll have a great view of the city and that way you could see all of the fireworks, in every direction. We can bring up snacks and blankets -"

"Yes!" Sarah squealed, jumping up and down. "Yes! That sounds perfect!"

Joel chuckled as he watched Sarah bounce around, talking animatedly with you as she already planned what snacks she wanted to buy, Times Square already long forgotten.

He gazed at you adoringly as you giggled with Sarah in front of him on the sidewalk. How did you always know what to do? The way you fit into their lives with such ease astounded him. He always thought he would end up alone after he and his ex divorced. He had never really considered a relationship, although he ached for someone like you for years, he focused all of his energy on Sarah and making sure she had everything she ever needed. But watching the two of you together just solidified what he and his daughter were both missing in their lives. You brought this beautiful energy and light into everything you did, and suddenly he didn't seem to mind all the years he spent so alone, because now that you were here, it all made sense. He was just waiting for you.

You and Sarah juggled all of the blankets you could find in the two rooms while Joel lugged up two bags worth of drinks and snacks behind you on the stairs. Once you made it to the roof, you realized you weren't the only ones who had the idea, but even so, there was still plenty of space for you to have some privacy together while you waited for midnight. You spread out a thick blanket to sit on while Joel laid out all the snacks and popped a bottle of champagne and Sarah took pictures of the skyline.

"This is perfect," Joel told you as he handed you a champagne flute. You thanked him and settled in next to him, the back of your head resting on his shoulder as you watched Sarah take selfies then frown, deleting them before changing the angle and trying again.

"You think you'll be too tired to drive tomorrow?" you asked him, and he scoffed.

"No way. I can get four hours of sleep and still operate a table saw. Drivin' a truck will be a piece of cake."

You giggled and took a sip of your drink.

"I hope you have your liability insurance up to date," you teased, and he grinned. "Where do you think we can stop for the night?"

"Thinkin' if we make it to Nashville, that'll be a good spot, 'bout halfway," he said, and you nodded.

Sarah helped you set up a tray of cheese and crackers as the clock inched closer to midnight. You could see her eyelids drooping, but she was fighting to stay awake. She definitely wasn't used to all of the walking that was required in New York City, and it showed.

You had to nudge her awake when you heard the other people on the roof begin to murmur louder, and when you glanced at the time, you realized it was only a couple minutes until the ball dropped. She sat up and sleepily rubbed her eyes, but perked up quickly when you informed her it was almost time. She jumped up and pushed her way to the railing so she could get the best view of the street below, but you and Joel stayed cozied up under a blanket on the ground.

You listened as the small crowd of people on the roof began to countdown to midnight, and joined in with the cheers when the clock struck midnight. Fireworks began going off in the distance in every direction, and much to your surprise, someone was setting them off a block away on the roof. The loud pop made you jump, and Joel chuckled next to you.

"C'mere," he said, pinching your chin and pulling you in for a kiss. His lips felt cold but his hands were warm as you let yourself melt into his touch.

"Happy New Year, baby," he murmured against your mouth, and you smiled.

"Happy New Year," you whispered before cupping his face and pulling him closer, your lips slotting together perfectly as the fireworks continued to go off and the rest of the crowd looked up in awe. But neither of you cared to take your eyes off the other. There was no point: nothing could compare to what was right in front of you.

Sunday - New Years Day

Sarah yawned, her chin resting in her hand as she slumped over the table at the diner you had found within a short walking distance of the hotel, one of the few places open on a holiday. You had gotten up early so you could hit the road and put as many miles under your belt as you could. The trip was short, but you crammed in as many things as you could, and you could tell even Sarah was ready to get back home.

"Dad, I'm tired," Sarah pouted as she watched Joel finish eating his pancakes.

"You can sleep in the truck," he told her, wiping his mouth before drinking the rest of his coffee. "This ain't even that early. I'm normally up -"

"By 5, yeah, we know," Sarah said, rolling her eyes dramatically, making you giggle. Joel raised an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, so now you're gangin' up on me?" he said accusingly, but his tone was light, which made you laugh even more.

"Where are we gonna put all your stuff?" Sarah asked suddenly. You frowned, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"At the house. Where's your stuff gonna go? Dad's closet is already overflowing-"

"Oh, no," you told her, shaking your head. "We're taking it to my mom and dad's house until I find an apartment."

"An apartment? Like that small one you just left? Why?" Sarah asked, snagging an extra piece of bacon from your plate.

"Well, apartments are notoriously tiny in New York City. The ones in Austin will be bigger," you explained, ignoring her underlying question. But she didn't let you get away with it that easy.

"We could make room at our house, right Dad? Can't you build something for her clothes?" Sarah asked, turning on him now.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, anxiously draping his arm across the back of the booth. "But she wants her own space, baby girl."

"But why?" Sarah asked, furrowing her brows at you. "You're over all the time anyway." You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Yeah, I know. But your Dad and I just met, and you really should be together longer before you move in with someone," you explained, and you felt Joel shift his weight next to you.

"You said you were with that other guy for seven years and you lived with him, right?" she questioned, and you knew immediately where she was going with it.

"Yeah," you said slowly.

"So maybe that doesn't really matter," she said with a shrug. You shifted your eyes to Joel, silently asking for help, and he straightened up in his seat.

"Alright, that's enough, detective," he said to Sarah. "Let's get a move on, I wanna hit the road."

A couple hours later as you made your way further south and Joel confirmed Sarah was fast asleep in the backseat, he cleared his throat, getting your attention.

"Y'know, 'bout earlier," he began, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. "If you wanted, you could move in. But only if you wanted," he repeated nervously, stealing a glance in your direction. "Don't want you thinkin' I don't want you around-"

"Oh!" you said, blinking in surprise. "Thank you, but I think maybe I should learn to live by myself for a while. I've either always lived with my parents, or a roommate, or Will. I think it would be good for me to get my own place. Nothing against you," you said hurriedly, "I really appreciate the offer."

"'Course," Joel said, nodding in understanding. "Just wanted you to know you're always welcome at our house."

"I know, thank you," you replied, reaching your hand across the seat to him, and he dropped his hand from the steering wheel in favor of holding yours.

"Besides, we can have sleepovers at an apartment where we can be as loud as we want," you whispered with a wink, and he smirked.

"I'm gonna have your poor neighbors up all night," he told you, and you giggled. "Get you kicked out, then you'll have to move in with me." You laughed even louder at that, and Joel joined in, eventually waking up Sarah.

"What's so funny?" she asked sleepily, and Joel shook his head.

"Nothin', go back to sleep," he said, glancing at her in the review mirror.

"Well, I'm up now," she said, stretching and looking out the window. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere in Maryland," you told her over your shoulder. She groaned and laid back down, shoving her earbuds in.

"Wake me when we get home," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

You smiled, turning to look out the window at the cars flying by on the thruway. It didn't really matter where you were because you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

You were already home.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywuanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin @daddy-dins-girl @jessthebaker @seratuyo @wh0reforbucknasty @paleidiot @misstokyo7love @runningmom94 @mandoisapunk @marantha @missladym1981 @mybworlds @hologramgrlluvr @txtattoostark @jay-mach @stevie75 @merz-8 @sarap-77 - if you are crossed out, it won't let me tag you

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castieltrash1 · 1 year

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I'm desperate for any content with Driver or K, maybe just how'd they treat you as their partner? Love your work!!

driver is a bit of a chameleon boyfriend. he’s used to blending in and attracting as little attention as possible, which extends to his personal life. whatever you’re interested in, so is he. if you like to eat somewhere, he’ll suggest that place every time you mention being hungry. as long as you are happy, that’s all that really matters to him. if you want to plan dates, he’ll follow your schedule down to the second. and if you’re more spontaneous, he’ll have his jacket and car keys nearby to take you wherever you want.

he’s protective, of course, but he also loves seeing you be successful in whatever endeavors you pursue in life. whether that’s a mundane 9-5 or a niche passion that doesn’t pay the bills, he will cheer you on for every milestone you cross. ideally, he’d take care of you in every way that matters (financially, emotionally, mentally, physically, etc.) but he doesn’t want to stifle you, either. that doesn’t mean he won’t silently fix any of your problems behind your back, though! bitchy manager bothering you? you’ll never believe it, but she switched locations! low on rent? you must’ve forgotten those couple hundred dollar bills you left haphazardly tucked between your mattress! too tired to cook dinner? well, your boyfriend just texted saying he’s off work and would love to grab something and swing by your place to eat!

safe to say, one of his love languages is acts of service. including the ones you don’t know about, he takes care of every problem in your life. he’ll catch every bug, fix every leaky sink, install your new curtains, reconnect your router, change your oil, etc. speaking of cars, if you’re insistent on driving yourself everywhere, driver will check your car every five seconds to make sure it’s safe.

+ driver isn’t big on pda, but if you’ve just arrived or are leaving, he will pout without a kiss hello or goodbye. if you forget (or purposely avoid for the sake of teasing) either, he’ll follow you, grab your wrist, and use his other hand to hold your jaw steady while he kisses you. only then will he smile, let go, and pretend nothing happened.

OFFICER K UNDER THE CUT!

k can be insecure, sometimes. he knows it’s already hard enough dating a replicant, but his dangerous job doesn’t make it any easier. all he has to offer you is his plain apartment and the nights he’s not working, neither of which he finds particularly appealing. he’s not really sure why you like him, but he’ll be damned if he gives you any reason to break it off. every second that he can devote to you, he does.

since he’s out in the city most of the time, k enjoys spending time indoors. of course, if you want to go anywhere while he’s home, he’ll be stuck to your side like glue, glaring at anyone who even gives you a second glance. but, what he loves most of all is curling up beside you and listening to the rainfall. nothing makes him feel more human than doing nothing for the sole purpose of it. he’s made to perform tasks, so there’s something rebellious about enjoying the silence of your apartment, counting each beat of your heart, and feeling the warmth of your skin against the synthetic of his. knowing that he doesn’t have to service you or offer anything for you to want to spend time with him makes him ecstatic.

while k can’t afford lavish gifts or, really, much at all, he does come into contact with a large collection of rare items at work. he’s always excited to bring evidence home since he knows you’ll get a kick out of seeing and touching a real flower or piece of wood. while the scarcity of the item intrigues him, he doesn’t have the same desire to connect to humanity’s past the way you, understandably, do. where he sees just another part of an ongoing case, you see years of ancestry and a forgotten world. secretly, the excited glint in your eyes has started to make him feel something similar.

+ k loves pet names. the first time you called him babe/baby, he stilled and stared at you in shock. he’d heard humans referring to other humans that way, but the names people usually called him were very different. whenever you call him a pet name, he smiles, almost unconsciously. he’s tried every combination of affection terms with you, but his favorites are the personalized ones that he knows no one else ever has or ever will call you. they remind him that, for now, at least, you’re entirely his. when you use them in return, he feels unique, like a human. he feels like he finally has a real name. out of the well-known ones, however, k’s favorites are sweetheart, dear, flower, and pretty. flower and other pet names based on things that are now rare feel especially fitting to him, since someone “as perfect as you is hard to find.”

gosling sleepover sunday

#driver x reader #drive #ryan gosling #officer k x reader #blade runner 2049 #blade runner 2049 imagine #officer k #officer k fluff #blade runner #blade runner fluff #drive fluff #answered #anonymous #t: writing

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attapullman · 1 month

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The Boys Are Back / Whodunit? Origin Story

Summary: When best friends and childhood sleuths Bob Floyd and Mickey Garcia grow up, everything seems less fun. Thankfully things are about to completely change for these two hometown goofs.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, 80s inaccuracies, sci-fi opinions do not reflect that of the author

A Note From Mo: As would be the only appropriate gift for providing the inspiration for Whodunit?, happy birthday @bobgasm! Thank you for loving these two as much as me and helping make their story as fun as it is. Wishing you the best birthday on New Zealand time (we'll be celebrating America time as well, don't worry 😉)

origin story / prologue / whodunit? masterlist

“Are you really trying to convince me that Return of the Jedi is better than The Wrath of Khan?” Mickey couldn’t wipe the look of disgust off his face at this zit-faced teenager at the counter. The two fairly recent box office hits were a common disagreement, and this kid came in thinking he knew all that and a bag of chips.

“Force lightning? Luke trying to redeem his father? Dude, George Lucas made the last two movies true masterpieces, cinematic perfection!”

Rolling his eyes, aware that this knucklehead has no clue who he’s going against (all the best film geeks in town knew to not go against Fanboy Garcia and his sci-fi knowledge), Mickey dropped the copy of Raiders of the Lost Ark into a plastic bag along with the receipt.

“The Wrath of Khan brought people to tears. Invested us deeper into the characters we’ve loved for years, grown up with. Spock’s death shocked an entire nation, no doubt about it. And don’t be stupid, Vulcan nerve pinch defeats Force lightning every time.” He slides the bag across the counter with a scoff. “Movie is due back Tuesday. Come back with some real ammunition next time, airhead.”

Cheeks red, the teen grabs his bag and scuttles out of the Blockbuster. The bell chimes and suddenly the shop is empty.

While the access to new releases and movies in the break room were great perks, Mickey was so over this job. The blunderhead teens with their gnarly opinions, the bratty moms who always complain about the return dates. It’s just renting a movie for a week, not that complicated. When was his cousin going to get back to him about that maintenance gig at city hall? The sci-fi fan slumped against the counter and continued watching the copy of Legend they just got in.

Across town, Bob was also struggling with his work day. When was everyone going to realize he didn’t set the price of parts? He wasn’t even really a mechanic, just a guy who needed a summer job in high school and never stopped coming in. A star employee, he enjoyed the puzzle of putting components together and the purr of a perfectly oiled engine.

It may not have been his dream job, but the free parts for his ’65 Mustang and the content silence he and his uncle worked in wasn’t horrible.

Two more customers come in and try the haggle the price. Neither are impressed with the calm way Bob explains the cost of labor and parts, rubbing his greasy palms impatiently on his coveralls as he breaks down why he doesn’t work for free. And when he asks if they’d like him to undo the work to cut the cost, pocketbooks are pulled out and he’s got money in his pocket for beers later.

His uncle is long gone by the time Bob locks up the shop with a heavy padlock on the garage door. His boots scuff in the dirt as he makes his way to the Mustang, her blue paint shining in the late summer sun. She was stunning.

The breeze whipped through his hair - too long for his mother’s liking - as he drove across town. Mickey was just opening the door to The Alibi as he parked on the street. The best friends tip their heads in greeting.

“Bobby.”

“Fanboy.”

The two slap their hands together. Palms first, then two slaps from the back, before looping around to fist bump. A handshake from elementary school that somehow has carried on twenty years. After a few drinks a shimmy will make its way into the mix.

They take up residence at the bar, the same spot they’ve occupied a few nights a week since they walked out of that Navy enlistment meeting and never looked back. The bartender always knows to hand out whatever’s cheapest unless they’re holding paychecks.

“How many people confuse Star Wars and Star Trek today?” The cutting glare Mickey gives him says it all. Probably not the best time to make a Darth Khan joke.

Lost in the clatter and whoops of the bar, the best friends mull over their meaningless hourly jobs and contemplate the meaning of ‘the man’. Bob’s leather jacket hangs off the stool back, the sticky air of the bar clinging to the twentysomethings’ skin. One beer becomes two, two becomes three as the weekend arrives.

A loose curl hanging over his forehead, Mickey makes eyes contact with a babe across the room. He’d happily spend the evening with those beautiful eyes. The only perk of this dingy bar is it’s the only one in town, and a mix of old classmates and new-in-towns keep the dating game fresh.

Bob himself does a quick look around at the night’s prospects, doing a double take. No, it couldn’t be. When did the police captain’s daughter get back into town? She shoots an amiable smile and nod back before turning to her own drink and friends.

Mickey raises his eyebrows at his bud. Bob shoves him off his stool on the way to the bathroom.

As the night progresses, only the young and the young at heart (and alcoholics) are still in their seats at The Alibi. The best friends are a handful of beers deep, leaning across the bar to chat with Mickey’s childhood neighbor, Tom - a gruff guy with a beer gut and a penchant for belching when he laughs. They love making him laugh.

“I tell you two about the rocks that keep showing up on my doorstep?”

Mysterious rocks? The boys lean in closer, their light denim-clad pelvises nearly over the bar top. Shaking their heads, all ears, they urge Tom for more information.

“Been happenin’ for months now. At first I didn’t think anything of it. Animals maybe? But they keep getting bigger and bigger. Tripped over one the size of a melon yesterday, stupid fucking rock. Belchhhh.” The boys snicker into their beers. “Can’t figure out who’s doing it. Gonna end up breaking my front step with a mountain one of these days.”

The boys exchange a look as they contemplate the conundrum. Who would just leave rocks on Tom’s doorstep? Wouldn’t it get old after a few weeks? And rocks of all things?

“It’s not that big of town. Who could it be?” Mickey cocks his head to the side. Tom has always been a nice guy. A little oblivious, but harmless. “Your ex-wife back in town?”

The bearded man shakes his head, scratching the underside of his belly as he realizes it’s time to call it a night.

As Tom goes to pay his tab, Phil, who’s been manning the bar at The Alibi since before LBJ was in office, spoke up. “You two solved mysteries as kids, yeah?”

The young men give him a perturbed look, confused why he’d bring up their silly sleuthing games from decades before. Hesitant, Bob nods. Who could forget the years spent hunched in random hiding spots, notebooks and binoculars at the ready. Mickey still had a scar from falling out of the second floor stairwell in the community center.

Tom is delighted, his drunken eyes lighting up. “Any chance you two could take a whack at figuring out who’s leaving all these fucking rocks on my doorstep? There’s a twenty in it for ya.”

It’s been…years since they last solved anything. Petty crimes from other classmates, some neighborhood drama, but that was before puberty. Did they still have the gift?

“Sure man, why not?” Shoulders are shrugged, hands are shook tipsily. They’d stop by in the morning before their shifts. Natural curiosity has them dying to see the assortment of rocks.

Tom heads out and the boys clink the necks of their bottles together, enjoying the last sip of the night. Who knew where this was going, but they were always up for a challenge.

A week later, the two returning sleuths are hunched over behind a bush with a pack of pretzels and a six-pack, mud caking Mickey’s new Air Forces. There’s cigarette stubs in the dirt and they’ve been arguing over the best flavor of Fanta for an hour.

In the wee hours of the morning Tom’s next door neighbor sneaks into his garden to place a rock roughly the size of a pumpkin on the front step. The shared fence issue Tom thought to be resolved? Definitely not.

Another neighborhood drama solved. Twenty dollars in their pocket.

But with the solve comes a burning itch that Mickey can’t scratch. Keeps him up at night, lives in the corner of his brain while he rents movies to bored-face teens. A blazing fire that can only be tended, not extinguished.

“What if we started our own detective agency?”

Bob spat out his ginger ale on Mrs. Garcia’s freshly cleaned granite countertop. Was Fanboy tripping?

“C’mon man, why not? Put up some flyers and solve whatever rinky dink shit comes up in our free time? Make some extra cash? We might actually be able to move out on our own. Don’t you want freedom?”

They’d been bitching about it for months, wanting to get out of their childhood bedrooms and actually do something with their lives. So the Navy wasn’t for them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t serve their community in other ways. Maybe this was the answer to their unsure futures.

Bob grabbed his best friend’s hand, the decade-old handshake turning into a brotherly hug. “Just promise me we won’t get into anything too crazy. I like my Sundays on the couch.”

In six months they’d raised the cash for their own apartment, a small two bed in the dusky pink modular building off Main Street. In a year the amateur sleuths had been in the local paper twice. And two years and several police case assistances later, they stood across from the police captain’s daughter, not a smile in sight.

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taglist:

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#top gun: maverick au #top gun: maverick fan fiction #mickey fanboy garcia fan fiction #mickey fanboy garcia fic #robert bob floyd fan fiction #robert bob floyd fic #mickey fanboy garcia #robert bob floyd #mickey garcia #bob floyd #mickey garcia fan fic #bob floyd fan fic #x reader #mickey garcia x reader #bob floyd x reader #whodunit? fic

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ghostaholics · 1 year

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living for the sugar daddy price ficlet!! also lowkey love the idea of him driving the oc home after the coffee shops closes cause he doesn’t want her going home alone

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 || 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

alright but you and I are on the same wavelength because the way I already have this planned out with him driving her home so often that now he has the car ready for her before she even gets inside – seat warmer on, heater blasting; probably some banter about his music preferences, to which she says she'll think anything is good because she listens to that fucking jazz instrumental on repeat for her coffee shop shifts that makes her ears bleed so whatever is on in the car is a nice reprieve

but anyways, the first time he drops her off, he doesn't like how unsafe the building/area is (notices little things as he's driving through and walking her to the door), expresses his concern in his usual militaristic, matter-of-fact way but makes sure not to say anything out of line since they're really just starting to be friends

and she says that it's all she can afford with her wages and just makes do with the best of her situation (which is absolutely terrible, e.g. neighbors, plumbing, appliance issues, etc. as it is can be quite possible for Londoners to have poor housing conditions from my research)

so he does at least teach her some defense moves which leads to some sexual tension and very confused feelings between both of them, but not any actual smut yet and she may or may not have to use them at any point, but idk I haven't thought that far ahead and honestly it's more of like a feel-good plot than anything with tension or drama so I wouldn't make any of them suffer

but I digress – she gets evicted and has to find a new place to live within only a few day's notice and at this point they are actually sort-of-friends so he offers her his spare room in his apartment which so happens to be in a nicer section of the city (except it's not actually a spare room, it's a fully fledged office that he basically tears down and leaves it in move-in ready condition when she gets there so she doesn't know), turning this also into a semi-roomate au too

and of course the only way she can take it is if he begrudgingly agrees to let her pay some rent but he leaves the price ridiculously low maybe £500-600 at most per month, and she would honestly be an idiot to turn down the offer, so she accepts and then at some point we find out that he actually saves that money for her in an account to accrue interest and gifts it to her as a graduation present ♡

#sorry for rambling #i am writing the first part where they meet in the coffee shop #i love talking about them though come in my inbox at any time #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #john price smut #john price headcanons #captain price x reader #captain price x you

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ladyevol · 15 days

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Together at the beginning of the end

Ship: Scar X Grian

TW: Body Horror, character death, fake character death

Summary: What if Hotguy and Grian were humanity's only hope against a lovecraftian alien invasion?

There was very little time for rest for the builders of Hermit co. to rest as the main company responsible for building and renovating buildings all around the country, so for the workers to earn an entire week off and an all paid weekend on the nearest beach was a big thing.

“C'mon, Scar, just tell us already.” Grian said with a small chuckle as he, Scar, Impulse and Skizz made their way to the shore. The man on a wheelchair had promised an extra surprise waiting for them and the shorter man hated to admit, he was curious.

“You will see! You will see! We are almost there!” Scar answered from the front seat as Skizz drove them.

“I'm pretty sure we already passed the beach, so this better be good.” Grian crossed his arms.

“Oh, you are going to love this, G. Don't you wait.” Skizz answered, glancing at them from the mirror behind his sunglasses.

“Don't be impatient now, Grian.” Impulse teased him as well and the blonde man rolled his eyes.

As they drove, they passed by a billboard with the photo of a muscular man wearing a black helmet, not too dissimilar to the ones worn by bikers. Unlike his face though, his dark clothes left very little to the imagination as they were probably a bit too tight. They too had some orange and cyan, particularly on his chest where his signature symbol could be seen.

Hotguy. The superhero of the people. He who, all by himself, had decreased crime in the city by 70%, proving to be considerably more effective than cops, both due to his super strength, his equipment and sheer charisma. Grian had never met him himself, however, the stories he had heard did leave him wondering. Mumbo in particular, Grian's best friend, had had an encounter with the man after a device he had been working on had been stolen after his office was invaded. Not even forty eight hours later, the device had been returned, right in the same spot along with a poster from the hero which Mumbo still had right above his workbench.

“I swear, you are all conspiring against me. I guess I will have to call Hotguy on all your butts.”

“I promise that I know as much as you do.” Impulse tried to reassure. “And Hotguy wouldn't kick our butts. He is too cool for that and only acts in New Craft. He wouldn't come all the way here.”

“And I only know what Scar told me, I haven't seen it myself, but I promise, you are gonna love it.” Skizz added.

The car finally started next to a harbor and Scar led the way to an old, small boat that looked like it was about to sink at any moment. “Tadaa!” Scar pointed at the boat. “I know that you love fishing, Grian, so I decided to rent us a boat for the weekend so we can fish as much as you want! Sorry if it is not the prettiest boat, but I should get the job done!”

Grian was silent for a few moments and the others started looking concerned. “Grian? Buddy?” Mumbo asked and, suddenly, the smallest man of the four burst out laughing, tears on the corners of his eyes which he quickly wiped behind his glasses.

“Oh, Scar. That is so very you.”

“Does that mean that you like it?”

“I do, but you should have told me before, I didn't bring my fishing equipment. Does that come with the boat?”

“Uh, no. I don't think so. Oops!” Scar chuckled apologetically.

“That's ok, I saw a fishing store on the way here. It should be just a couple of minutes walking.” Skizz mentioned.

“Or wheeling,” Scar pipped.

“Yeah, or that. We can probably rent some equipment for the day, maybe get something to eat and come back.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Grian smirked, glancing at the boat one last time before they left. It was a very lovely gift, not that he would admit out loud.

…

The quartet made their way to the fishing shop which seemed to be empty save for a man sleeping behind the counter, listening to 1920s type of music.

Skizz and Scar were like children in a candy store, running havoc and looking at every new thing they were seeing for the first time. Luckily, Grian had Impulse there to help him adult.

“Excuse me, sir,” Impulse said to the sleeping man, trying to wake him up. “We were wondering if you had any equipment we could rent or-”

The music was suddenly stopped by the news. “We interrupt our program to alert everyone about the recent meteors falling from the sky. The government alerted to avoid areas of impact for the safety of people, as the meteors appear to have a contaminant that may cause confusion and hallucinations while exposed to them.”

“That's awful,” Skizz said, paying attention to the radio.

“Like we needed something like this. I hope it's not near the beach.” Grian said.

“Maybe it is an alien invasion, here to finally take over the world.” Mumbo joked.

The door opened and a man wearing a strange purple cloak that covered most of his face stepped inside. As soon as he did, a purple mist began spreading from him, causing the others to start coughing and the owner to finally wake up.

“The hell?!” The owner asked between coughs, getting up with a shotgun. The quartet all stepped away to let the man approach his target. None of them were getting involved. “I don't know who you think you are, buddy,” he grabbed the figure by the front of his cloak and pulled him closer, “but if you think you can come to my shop and spread all that shit, you are very mistaken! Huh?” The owner asked, his eyes widened as he looked under the cover. “W-what the hell are you?!”

From underneath the clothes, a pair of members that looked like a pair of purple wings covered in bulging eyes appeared. As it touched the man, a purple glow covered him before he disappeared into nothingness, leaving only his clothes behind which fell to the floor.

“W-what the hell?!” Grian asked, backing away as the man turned to them and began approaching.

“Crap! Boys!” Skizz shouted, pulling Scar's chair closer to the back door.

Mumbo thought quickly and threw a box used for keeping bait on top of the figure before grabbing Grian by the wrist and running towards the other two. “What is that thing?!”

“I don't know! Could this be the hallucinogens the radio was talking about?” Impulse suggested, only for a hook to be sent flying their way, scratching him on the arm, “nope! That's very real! Oh god!”

“There! Quick!” They got to the back door, trying to open it. The door wouldn't budge. “Crap!”

“Wait, I can pick the lock! Just give me one moment!” Scar said, grabbing the hairpin he kept in his long brown locks.

“How do you know how to open locks?!” Grian shouted.

“You learn a thing or two in the local swim team.” Scar said, starting to do his magic.

“That does not answer my question!”

“Guys, we might not have a moment!” Impulse pointed out as the creature slowly floated towards them. Outside, the sky seemed to be getting too dark.

“I have an idea!” Impulse said, running towards the door, “Grian! Skizz! I need you to cover me!”

“How?!” Skizz shouted, but Grian knew how. He grabbed a fishing pole and used it to hook against the creature's cloak before reeling it against a nearby counter. As he imagined, the creature was very light.

It was down long enough for Impulse to grab the shotgun and shoot it, again and again, causing a purple liquid to fall, though not for long as the would almost immediately began regenerating like a purple spider web being formed before their eyes.

“Scar!” Grian shouted.

“I got it!” The brunette pulled the back door open and rushed outside with the other three following after him, though not quick enough.

“Ack!” Impulse screamed and all of them turned around to watch as their friend was pulled by the ankle. The creature not only had wings, it apparently also had tentacles coming out of its cloak.

“Dipple Dot! Hold on” Skizz tried to help him, but the creature was far stronger.

“Skizz! You need to go! It doesn't have to get both of us!”

“Never! I'm never leaving a brother behind!”

“Scar!” Grian shouted and the man who was ahead turned around to look, “we gotta help!” He began running back to the duo.

Just before he could reach, a second winged being dropped in front of them and wrapped Skizz in its wings before anyone could do anything about it. With a purple glow, the man was also gone leaving just his clothes behind.

“No!” Grian shouted as the creature turned around and attempted to envelope him as well. Just as they were about to connect, Scar grabbed him by the back of his shoulder and pulled him on top of him before he began wheeling away. “Wait! Impulse!” Grian shouted as the world around them seemed to morph and turn like they were in a nightmare rather than a physical place. “SCAR! IMPULSE IS STILL THERE!”

“NO, HE ISN'T! GRIAN, THOSE THINGS BLANKED HIM WHILE HE WAS SHOOTING AT THEM!”

“Huh?” To Grian, Impulse was still at the door, trying to escape, though now that Scar had mentioned it, he did seem to be off. Like his movements weren't really human.

It was a trap and Grian had nearly fallen for it, like Skizz had.

“We need to get out of here!” Scar panted, “I don't know what those things are, but they can mess with our heads and make us disappear!”

“They can't be dead, right?! It can't- can't be!”

“I don't know!” Scar cried, tears streamed down his cheek, “I am just as confused as you are, Grian! I hope they aren't but I just don't know and I can't risk them getting us too!”

The blonde man heard something from above and looked up to see more of the winged beings flying after them in the now purple sky with clouds that appeared to be unblinking eyes. Just how much of what he was seeing was actually true? “What's the plan? They are getting closer!”

“Maybe the car?” He offered as the car came into view, only to be then smashed by one of the creatures landing on it. “Ok, maybe not the car then!”

Had that been true? Or just another deception? “The boat! I can sail us out of here!”

“An option as good as any!” Scar got them to the boat and Grian finally got him off his lap to run to the cabin.

“Ok, I need you to pull the rope!” The experience of the two began warming the old motor that barely wanted to start. “C'mon! C'mon! Just work already! Please!” Finally, it came to life allowing the old boat to start sailing away from the shore. “Oh, thank god.” Grian panted, bringing his hand to his chest before turning around to find no one else on the boat. “Scar? S-scar?!” He shouted, trying to search for the man as the creatures just stopped upon reaching the harbor, standing there and watching as the man sailed away all alone. “No, no, this can't be it can't be happening!” He held his head. There were no clothes left like the others, however, so maybe that meant he hadn't been taken?! Maybe he was still in the town?! But even if that was the case, what could Grian really do to save his friend? Wait, there was his phone. He scrambled to get it, nearly dropping the device in the process. He decided against calling him since, if he was hiding, that could attract the monsters, so, instead, Grian just sent him a message.

‘Scar, I don't know where you are or if you can get this message, but if you do, get in the water. They look like they can't swim or fly above it. Stay safe. I will come back to get you, I promise. Please, stay safe.’

He had to hope that he was alive. He absolutely could not lose Scar.

Part 1

Part 2

Full story

#mcyt #gtws #grian #desert duo #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #scarian #goodtimeswithscar #evilsightau #hotguy #trying something new #let's see if people prefer if i post the story directly to tumblr

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sarkos · 20 days

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To enter the Milan apartment of the artist and architect Luigi Serafini, one must pass beneath the number “1.61803,” an approximation of the golden ratio, a formula that was discovered by the ancient Greeks and used by both Salvador Dalí and Le Corbusier to express beauty and order — and a fitting introduction to its famously inscrutable resident. In 1981, Serafini, now 75, published “Codex Seraphinianus,” an illustrated encyclopedia of an imagined world. The book’s entries are funny, bizarre and occasionally grotesque (insects double as machines; a couple transform into a crocodile while in flagrante), with accompanying text in a made-up language of runelike symbols. In the decades since its release, semioticians have attempted to decode the writing, and the project has been celebrated by the likes of the writer Italo Calvino and the filmmaker Federico Fellini. [...]For Serafini, each object and piece of art tells a story. An early 19th-century scroll from Japan with beautiful calligraphy, hung next to a wooden dining table painted with a geometric motif, reminds him of childhood trips to his aunt and uncle’s villa in the Italian region of Marche. “This was a gift to them from a monsignor who was the head of the Vatican’s diplomatic office in Japan for many years,” he says. “When you learn how to write, you become conscious that you must write only on paper. The idea that somewhere people could write on a painting — for me, that was ‘The Codex.’” To the right of the scroll, there’s a 2022 painting by Serafini titled “La Langue Secrète des Oiseaux” (“The Secret Language of Birds”), which depicts a goldfinch spitting food into the mouth of a man with a red egg atop his head. The sky is flecked with swooping birds, and yolks run down the walls of a roofless house. “In the Middle Ages, there was this belief that there were messages from God hidden in birdsong,” he says. On a wall in the adjacent main room, an eight-foot-wide nest made of real branches contains a resin-and-plaster chick with a gaping beak. Below it, a human figure with the face of a swallow — made of resin and plaster and dressed in a tailcoat and ruffled silk shirt — is preparing to eat two eggs on a table. Elsewhere, the painted resin bust of a falcon with illuminated blue eyes hovers above the apartment’s second entrance. But this house, as singular as it is, isn’t Serafini’s only self-constructed fantasy world: There’s also La Casa Ontologica, his apartment in a 15th-century palazzo in Rome that’s filled with more of his artworks. As he laments his possible eviction from that property, which he has rented from the Sovereign Order of Malta since 1987 — to make room, he imagines, for “a luxury hotel or something else” — the faint rush of a passing commuter train pulls him back into the moment. “Cities are like trees,” he says. “They change, they grow.” While sitting at his dining table in a wooden folding chair with a cowhide print, he scans the space he’s created — not just a world of wondrous creatures but also maybe one of hope. After all, he says, “Metamorphosis is the sign of life.”

Luigi Serafini’s Fantastical Milan Apartment - The New York Times

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pegs-carter · 20 days

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STEGGY WEEK 2024 @steggyfanevents

day six — WIPs and updates

sneak peek of the first chapter of my WIP, The Second Time Around.

tags Established Relationship, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Post-Avengers: Endgame, Alternate Timeline, Time Travel, Chief Peggy Carter, Howling Commandos, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Peggy Carter, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Period-Typical Racism, will add tags

Peggy wasn’t transferred to LA, in the end. She actually had started working as Chief of the DC office four months ago.

She took over from the previous one, Chief Kevin Kelly, after an early retirement due to a cardiac arrest he barely survived. Phillips pulled all the strings for that to happen, masking her name as M. Carter in all the paperwork to deceive the higher-ups.

It wasn’t a difficult task in the end as of all four US SSR offices, the national headquarters had the worst performance. Meanwhile, New York had the best, and to no wonder considering it had Peggy Carter among their men until recently. Emphasis on men, as Peggy was still the only female operative in the whole agency.

Despite her being great to the NY office, the NY office wasn’t great to Peggy in her final days there. Following Jack’s assassination attempt, Chief Flynn took over and it was like she got back to square one when it came to her job prospects.

Worse than square one, perhaps. Chief Dooley, for all his flaws, was somewhat protective of her. In a very condescending way, yes, mostly due to his respect for Captain Rogers, but protective regardless. Eventually, he started to respect Peggy because of her own merit. Then he died.

Jack Thompson, her second SSR boss, was… Jack Thompson. In all that name meant, whatever it meant. She wasn’t sure to this day, years after knowing the man. It never felt like he was her Chief, it felt more like Dooley took the day off and had Jack temporarily take his place like he used to when he was alive.

Thompson never treated her as a subordinate, either. It was more like a big brother who relished his momentary authority over his little sister as their parents were out of town, something she experienced for the first time in her life. Jack was no Michael, that was for sure.

She liked him better than Flynn, still. Her last boss simply thought she was stupid, which is something Dooley or Thompson never even considered. He made sure she was useless in the office, almost out of spite. Combining his treatment of her with her engagement with Daniel, Peggy couldn’t wait to be transferred to LA.

She had no idea she wouldn’t end up in New York or Los Angeles, but rather in Washington instead. As a Chief instead of an Agent, no less.

The transition wasn’t easy. The translation, neither. The D.C. men didn’t take well to having to respond to a female Chief and moving was always stressful. Nothing would beat the hassle of moving countries, but in the span of a year, Peggy lived in three different places in three different cities.

No matter how inconvenient it was to move once again, living alone in her own house made it worth it. No rules like in the Griffith and no need to depend on other people like when she lived in a Stark residence.

Technically, she still did in that last regard as the house was actually Howard’s. She was leasing it from him, but only technically, as Peggy made sure that her rent would amount to the price of the house after a period of time.

Howard was unhappy about this but yielded. Granted, she was quite certain that he lied about the cost; if depended on him, she wouldn’t pay a dime. Howard was like that when it came to gifts, he would buy you a house like it was nothing. And it was, for him. It really was.

Besides her modest house, he owned a mansion as he was living in DC as well. If you would ask him, he would say he was bored of NY and LA and wanted fresh new air. A lie.

The truth was, he was working with Peggy and Phillips to create the SSR’s successor. It was a complete secret and the rest of the staff was unaware their agency was in its last days.

It was time; the war was over. War was different, too. It wasn’t a fight between soldiers anymore, now it was between spies. With rumours that the Soviets were close to making their own Bomb, the necessity of a new agency suited for modern times was greater than ever.

However, while the government had no plans to continue the SSR, it didn’t have intentions of developing a replacement for it either. That was entirely Phillip’s idea and he recruited Howard and Peggy for it to come to fruition. He would take advantage of the SSR’s timely death and repurpose its corpse: adopt its orphaned agents, retake its abandoned structures, and continue its interrupted missions.

For that, Phillips would use his military connections and his new ranking of General. Peggy would take care of the spy-craft and Howard would be responsible for the technology and the financing. Mostly, though, Howard Stark and his Stark Industries were a leverage card in diplomatic relationships.

Leverage was needed because, unlike the SSR which was just a governmental collaboration between the USA and the UK, the new agency would be international and semi-private. Countries that joined in would have the incentive of access to cheaper and exclusive Stark technology, something irresistible in the ongoing Cold War.

There was a long way to go until that, granted. For now, Peggy would train to be one of the heads of a spy agency by being Chief of an SSR office. That was why Phillips was so determined to help Peggy with her promotion in the first place, having that position in her resume was a way of selling the idea of a female Director.

It was really a tough sell. Not because Peggy in particular wasn’t up to the task, but rather because men already have a hard time considering women their peers, let alone their superiors. The agents in her office would say so, plus a few jokes behind her back.

She had heard them all. Betty Carver. Serving under the Captain. Red, white, and blue love bruises. Raising his American Flag. The list went on.

At first, everybody hated her except Agent Kermit Kelly, Chief Kelly's younger son, and she suspected his obvious crush on her played a part in that. With time and her professionalism — not her personality —, the men started accepting her more and more. Far from enough, better than nothing.

Things got way better and somehow way worse when Dugan and Jones moved there. The Howling Commandos were disbanded and its five remaining members were relocated: Dugan to DC, Sawyer to Houston, Falsworth and Pinkerton to London. And Jones…

Gabe moved to DC, but not because of the SSR. He decided to join civilian life alongside Morita, another Washington resident, and start a doctorate at his Alma Mater Howard University right there in the city.

Things got better because, after a long time, she would be among friends that were fighters. As much as she loved Angie, the Jarvises, and Howard, there were some things in her life they couldn’t even grasp. She missed that type of connection, that understanding.

Things got worse because she had yet another man, Dugan, ‘under her sheets’. According to the bullpen, she had slept with Captain America — true, but it was none of their business —, Phillips — so she could get the job —, Howard — for money — and the Commandos.

All of them. During the war and after.

And Timothy… He didn’t help. He was all heart, all little restraint. Every comment about Peggy got under his skin, which didn’t help the affair allegations. He even punched the worst wanker in the office, Kelly’s other son, after he had enough of him, which was actually very little. Peggy had to punish Dugan because of that.

Nevertheless, she would be lying if she didn’t appreciate the gesture.

It’s not like she could punch Agent Kenneth Kelly herself being his superior, no matter how much she wanted to. One of the downsides of being Chief, bummer.

She liked where her life was at, at the end of the day, regardless of all those nuisances and obstacles. She had her own house, she was her own boss, and she was forging her own path, all by herself.

On her own.

Alone.

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giftcityproperty23 · 14 days

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GIFT City Real Estate: The Best Residential Properties to Buy Now

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Conclusion

GIFT City is more than just a financial hub; it’s a self-sustained city designed to offer a superior quality of life. For those looking to buy residential property, GIFT City presents an opportunity to be part of India’s smart city revolution while securing a valuable asset for the future. Whether for personal use or investment purposes, residential properties for buy in gift city provide a unique blend of modern living, high investment potential, and a strategic location.

If you’re interested in buying a property in GIFT City, now is the time to explore the options available at GIFT City Property. Take the first step toward owning a home in one of India’s most innovative and promising cities.

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mpregtales · 21 days

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Leo & Nate Part 1

Leo had always found solace in the rhythm of New York City. The hum of the metropolis, with its ceaseless energy and eclectic mix of souls, was the perfect backdrop for his life. At 23, he had carved out a space for himself in Brooklyn, where he could pursue his passion for music. Dark brown hair curled just above his ears, and a light dusting of facial hair accentuated his sharp features. With an athletic build, Leo was the embodiment of a modern rock musician—his electric guitar slung effortlessly over his shoulder, his fingers dancing across the strings with a fervor that spoke of years spent practicing in secret, away from the disapproving eyes of his parents in rural Connecticut.

Music had always been Leo’s escape. It began with a single concert—The Rolling Stones' Live Licks tour at Madison Square Garden. His Uncle Jack, a Wall Street financier with a penchant for rock and roll, had taken him to the show. The energy, the crowd, the sheer power of the music—it was intoxicating. Leo was just a boy then, but from that moment on, he knew he was meant for something different. He threw himself into learning music, teaching himself to play the guitar, immersing himself in the history of rock legends, and dreaming of one day making a name for himself in the music world.

But Leo’s parents had other plans. They were not religious but held firmly to socially conservative values. They envisioned a traditional life for him—college, a stable job, a wife, and children. But Leo couldn’t reconcile their expectations with his own dreams. Growing up, he was always more mature than his peers, with interests that set him apart. By the time he reached high school, it became clear to him that he was different in more ways than one. When he came out as gay during his senior year, the fragile peace between him and his parents shattered. Their disappointment was palpable, and the friction that had been building for years finally reached a breaking point. Leo’s parents pushed him out of the house, unable to accept the life he wanted to lead.

Leo found refuge with Uncle Jack and his family in New York City. Jack lived with his wife, Kay, and their two daughters, Denise and Ash, in a spacious apartment in Manhattan. They welcomed Leo with open arms, providing the support he desperately needed. Jack even got Leo a job in his office, but the world of finance wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to be a burden on Jack’s family, even though they insisted he was welcome to stay as long as he needed. After a few months, Leo saved enough money to rent a small apartment in Brooklyn. It was modest, but it was his—a space where he could be himself, free from the constraints of his parents’ expectations.

Leo stayed close to Uncle Jack’s family, visiting them often, and relishing the stability they provided. But his heart was in his music. In Brooklyn, he found a community of like-minded souls, people who shared his passion for rock and roll. He started a band with some friends—guys who, like him, had day jobs to pay the bills but lived for the nights when they could take the stage and lose themselves in the music. They played in clubs around the city, making just enough money to keep the dream alive. Leo was the lead guitarist, and though he didn’t sing much, his occasional vocals were raw and powerful, a reflection of the emotions he poured into every note. Most Fridays, you could find Leo and his bandmates on stage, giving it their all before returning to the 9-to-5 grind the following week.

Nate, on the other hand, had taken a different path to the city. At 25, he was a gifted artist with a natural talent for painting. Tall, blonde, and with an athletic build, Nate had an air of quiet intensity about him. His life had been marked by loss and longing—growing up in foster care after his teenage parents gave him up, Nate never quite felt like he belonged. His birth parents were two kids themselves, too young and too overwhelmed to raise a child. They put Nate up for adoption, but he was never chosen. Instead, he bounced from one foster family to another, never staying long enough to feel at home.

The closest thing Nate had to a real family was Linda and Jeffrey, an older couple in California who fostered him from ages eight to thirteen. They were avid collectors of art, their home filled with paintings that fascinated Nate. Linda and Jeffrey recognized his talent early on and nurtured it, paying for art classes and encouraging him to pursue his passion. Nate loved them dearly, and they loved him back. He felt safe with them, and for the first time, he believed he had found a place where he truly belonged. They even planned to adopt him, and Nate couldn’t have been happier.

But fate had other plans. One day, while Linda and Jeffrey were out running errands, their car was hit by a semi-truck. Jeffrey was killed instantly, and Linda was left in critical condition. Nate spent days at the hospital, praying for her recovery, but she passed away soon after. The loss shattered him, and his world fell apart. He was sent to another foster family—his last before he aged out of the system. But this family was nothing like Linda and Jeffrey. They were abusive, both emotionally and physically, leaving Nate with scars that ran deep.

Despite the hardships, Nate’s talent for painting never wavered. He earned a full scholarship to an art school in New York, a chance to start over in a city that promised opportunity and anonymity. The transition was tough, and Nate often felt alone, but he found solace in his art. He threw himself into his work, and his paintings began to gain attention. Nate managed to sell a few pieces, and with the money he made, he rented his own apartment in Brooklyn. Slowly, he built a new life for himself, making friends at art school and developing a small but loyal clientele for his work.

Nate was bisexual, having dated both men and women during his time at art school. He was still figuring out who he was, still searching for the connection that had eluded him for so long. And then, one Friday night, everything changed.

It was a typical Friday night at The Velvet Knot, a small but popular venue in Manhattan where Leo’s band was performing. The joint was packed, the air thick with the smell of beer and the sound of clinking glasses. Leo was in his element, strumming his guitar and backing up the lead singer, who was already a few drinks too deep. The bassist, Tony, had recently met a girl named Sarah and invited her to the show. She didn’t want to go alone, so she brought her best friend, Nate, along for the ride.

Nate wasn’t sure what to expect. He had planned to stay in and finish a painting, but Sarah had convinced him to come out for a drink. He didn’t know anyone else in the group, and when they arrived at the venue, he felt a little out of place. But as soon as the band started playing, his attention was drawn to the stage—and to Leo. There was something about the way Leo played, the way he moved, that captivated Nate. He felt a flutter in his chest, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

The band’s lead singer, Rick, was the classic frontman—charismatic, with a voice that could command a room and a personality to match. Rick was known for living life on the edge, and his turbulent love life was a constant source of gossip among their circle. That night at The Velvet Knot, Rick was in rare form, downing shots between songs like a man on a mission. His girlfriend, Claire, had just broken up with him, and it wasn’t the first time. The band had a running joke that Rick and Claire were as stable as a house of cards in a crossfire hurricane. Their on-again, off-again relationship was a rollercoaster, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before it would crash for good. But Rick, ever the hopeless romantic, refused to see it that way.

As the band played through their set, it became clear that Rick was struggling. His voice began to slur, his words becoming less coherent with each song. By the time they finished a cover of Led Zeppelin’s “Rock and Roll,” it was obvious they couldn’t continue with him on lead vocals. Leo exchanged a knowing look with Tony, their bassist, and Mark, their drummer. They needed to finish the gig to get paid, and there was only one solution.

“Leo, you gotta take over,” Tony said, his voice low but urgent. “Rick’s done for the night.”

Leo hesitated. He wasn’t used to being in the spotlight, but he knew there was no other option. “Alright,” he nodded, picking up the mic. “Let’s do this.”

As Leo stepped forward, the crowd’s energy shifted. He launched into a cover of The Rolling Stones’ “Happy,” his voice strong and clear. The audience responded immediately, the room buzzing with excitement. And then, in the middle of the chorus, Leo’s eyes swept over the crowd and locked with Nate’s. It was only a brief moment, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through both of them.

The set continued with more Rolling Stones covers—“Honky Tonk Women,” “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” and a few others. By the time the band finished, the crowd was buzzing with excitement. As the music faded and the lights dimmed, Leo and the band joined their friends in the audience. Sarah introduced Nate to the group, and when she introduced him to Leo, there was a moment of awkwardness, followed by a shared smile.

When the set ended, the band joined their friends in the audience. Sarah introduced Nate to the group, and when she introduced him to Leo, there was a moment of awkwardness, followed by a shared smile.

“Nice set,” Nate said, trying to keep his cool, though his heart was pounding in his chest.

“Thanks,” Leo replied, his eyes lingering on Nate a little longer than necessary. “Glad you could make it.”

“So, what’s the deal with your lead singer?” Nate asked, glancing over at Rick, who was now slumped over a table, a drink still in hand.

Leo chuckled, shaking his head. “Rick’s going through a rough patch—again. He and his girlfriend just broke up, for what, the tenth time? We keep telling him it’s not gonna last, but he’s stubborn.”

“Sounds like a mess,” Nate said with a grin. “But you handled it well. I’ve never heard anyone cover ‘Happy’ like that.”

Leo’s smile widened, a hint of pride in his expression. “Thanks. I’m usually more comfortable behind the guitar, but sometimes you just have to step up, you know?”

“I get that,” Nate nodded, feeling a connection forming between them. “I’m the same way with my art. I’m a painter, and sometimes I feel like the canvas is my shield. But there are moments when you have to put yourself out there, be vulnerable.”

Leo’s interest piqued. “A painter? That’s awesome. I’ve always admired artists—takes a lot of guts to put your work out there for everyone to see.”

“It’s not always easy,” Nate admitted. “But it’s what I love. Just like you and music.”

They continued talking, the conversation flowing naturally between them. Leo was struck by Nate’s quiet intensity, the way he spoke about art and life with such passion. Nate, in turn, was drawn to Leo’s charisma, his warmth, and the depth he sensed behind those hazel eyes. As the night went on, they found themselves gravitating toward each other, sharing stories of their pasts, their struggles, and their dreams for the future.

By the end of the night, they had exchanged numbers, both secretly hoping this was the start of something more. As it turned out, their Brooklyn apartments were just three stops away from each other on the F train. The following week, they met for coffee at a small café near Nate’s studio. What was meant to be a quick drink turned into hours of conversation. They talked about everything—music, art, their pasts, their dreams for the future.

On that first date, Nate found himself captivated by Leo’s stories. Leo’s journey from a small town in Connecticut to the vibrant streets of New York fascinated Nate. He admired how Leo had stayed true to himself despite the obstacles he faced—the rejection from his parents, the struggle to make a life for himself in a city that could be as unforgiving as it was inspiring. Leo, in turn, was fascinated by Nate’s resilience. Growing up in foster care, losing the closest thing he had to a family, and still managing to find his way to New York, to pursue his art—Nate was a survivor, and Leo admired that deeply.

As they got to know each other better, their feelings for each other grew. Leo loved how Nate’s mind worked, how he could see the world in ways that others couldn’t. Nate’s art was an extension of himself—each painting a reflection of his experiences, his emotions, his view of the world. And Nate loved how Leo brought music to life, how he could take a simple melody and turn it into something powerful and moving. They found that their artistic passions were more than just hobbies—they were the core of who they were, and they understood that about each other in a way that few others could.

Their personalities complemented each other perfectly. Leo was the spark—energetic, spontaneous, always ready to take on the world. Nate was the steady flame—calm, introspective, providing a balance to Leo’s fiery spirit. Together, they brought out the best in each other. Nate helped Leo see the beauty in the quiet moments, in the details of life that could be easily overlooked. And Leo encouraged Nate to take risks, to step out of his comfort zone and embrace the unpredictability of life.

Over the next few months, they spent more and more time together. They explored the city, visiting art galleries, catching live performances, and sharing meals at little-known restaurants that became their favorites. They found joy in the simple things—taking long walks through Central Park, staying up late talking about their dreams, and just being in each other’s company. The more they learned about each other, the deeper their connection grew.

One evening, after a particularly long day at work, Leo found his thoughts drifting to Nate. Over the past few months, their connection had deepened in ways he hadn’t expected. Nate wasn’t just someone he enjoyed spending time with—he was someone he could see a future with. The thought both thrilled and scared him, but more than anything, it felt right. That night, Nate had invited Leo over to his apartment for dinner, a quiet evening in after a hectic week. Leo had eagerly accepted, looking forward to the comfort of Nate’s presence.

Nate’s apartment was a reflection of his artistic spirit—filled with light, color, and the subtle scent of oil paints. The walls were adorned with his artwork, a mix of finished pieces and canvases still in progress. It was a space that felt both lived-in and deeply personal, a sanctuary where Nate’s creativity flourished.

They shared a cozy meal of homemade pasta and red wine, the conversation flowing easily as always. After they finished eating, Nate suggested they move to his studio, where he had been working on some new pieces. Leo agreed, eager to see more of Nate’s world.

Nate led him into the studio, a large room at the back of the apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the soft glow of the city lights. The space was cluttered in a way that felt purposeful, with canvases propped against the walls, paintbrushes scattered on the tables, and a faint hum of music playing in the background. It was here that Nate spent most of his time, creating art that was as complex and layered as the man himself.

As they wandered through the room, Nate stopped in front of a particular painting, still a work in progress. The canvas was large, dominated by deep blues and greens, with strokes of vibrant yellow cutting through the darker shades. It was abstract, yet there was a sense of movement and emotion that drew Leo in.

“This one’s been on my mind a lot lately,” Nate said, his voice thoughtful as he gazed at the painting. “I’ve been trying to capture the feeling of... I don’t know, hope, maybe? Or the idea of finding light in the darkness.”

Leo studied the painting, feeling the weight of Nate’s words. “It’s beautiful, Nate. There’s so much energy in it, like it’s alive. I can feel what you’re trying to say through it.”

Nate turned to look at Leo, his eyes searching. “That’s what I love about art. It’s a way to express things that are hard to put into words. Like how we’ve both been through a lot, but we’ve found something good, something bright in each other.”

Leo felt his heart race as Nate’s words sank in. There was a vulnerability in the way Nate was looking at him, a raw honesty that matched what Leo was feeling. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Nate’s. Slowly, Nate reached out and caressed Leo’s face, his thumb brushing softly against Leo’s cheek.

“Nate,” Leo began, his voice soft but steady, “I know it’s only been a few months, but... I’m really glad we met. I feel like... I don’t know, like we just get each other, you know?”

Nate’s hand lingered on Leo’s face as he looked deeply into his eyes. “I feel the same way. I never expected to find someone like you—someone who understands what it’s like to go through what we’ve both been through, and still find joy in the world.”

There was a moment of silence, heavy with unspoken emotions, before Nate leaned in and pressed his lips to Leo’s. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if they were both testing the waters. But as the seconds passed, it deepened, becoming more intense, more urgent. Leo’s hands found their way to Nate’s waist, pulling him closer as their kiss grew more passionate.

For both of them, the kiss was a confirmation of what they had been feeling for weeks—their emotions running deeper than they had allowed themselves to admit. Leo felt a rush of warmth spread through his chest, a sense of belonging that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He could feel Nate’s heartbeat against his own, the steady rhythm matching the excitement that was building between them.

When they finally pulled away, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s. Leo’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Nate’s gaze, which was filled with a mixture of affection and desire.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” Leo whispered, his voice barely audible. “It’s like... like everything makes sense when I’m with you.”

Nate smiled softly, his thumb tracing the outline of Leo’s jaw. “I know what you mean. It’s like we’ve been searching for something, and now we’ve found it.”

They stood there for a moment, just holding each other, before Nate gently guided Leo to the couch that was tucked into the corner of the studio. They sat down, still close, their legs brushing against each other. Leo’s hand found Nate’s, their fingers intertwining as they shared another kiss, this one slower, more tender.

As the passion between them intensified, Nate shifted closer, his free hand gliding up Leo’s back, pulling him in until their bodies were flush against each other. Leo responded eagerly, his hands exploring the firm contours of Nate’s chest, feeling the warmth radiate through the fabric of his shirt. Nate’s hands moved slowly, savoring the feel of Leo’s smooth, defined muscles beneath his fingertips. With a tender yet deliberate motion, Nate began to lift Leo’s shirt, revealing the toned lines of his chest and abdomen.

As the shirt slipped over Leo’s head, Nate paused to admire him, captivated by the way Leo’s lean physique complemented his own more muscular build. Leo’s body was like a masterpiece, every muscle sculpted and defined—almost as if he had stepped out of one of Nate’s paintings. The sight of Leo’s bare skin ignited something deep within Nate, a desire that surged through him with a force he had never felt before.

Leo, equally moved, reached for the hem of Nate’s shirt, gently pulling it upward to reveal the powerful expanse of his chest. When Nate’s shirt joined Leo’s on the floor, Leo’s hands roamed over Nate’s broad shoulders and chiseled pecs, his fingers tracing the lines of Nate’s muscles with a mixture of reverence and hunger. The closeness of their bodies, the feel of their bare skin pressed together, kindled a fire between them that was unlike anything either had ever experienced.

Their kisses grew more heated, more urgent, as the passion between them blazed into an uncontrollable fire. Nate’s hands traveled down Leo’s back, tracing the smooth curve of his spine before resting on the firm, rounded muscles of Leo’s buttocks. With deliberate slowness, Nate began to unbutton Leo’s jeans, his fingers brushing against the denim before sliding the fabric down over Leo’s hips. As he did, Leo’s hands settled on the taut, muscular contours of Nate’s glutes, gripping them with an appreciation that transcended mere physical attraction.

Leo had always taken pride in his athletic build, particularly the fullness of his glutes, which had drawn admiration from others in the past. But when Nate’s hands settled there, appreciating the strong, rounded muscles, it felt different—more intimate, more profound.

Breaking the kiss, Leo gasped for breath, his eyes locking with Nate’s, now darkened with desire. “You’re stunning, Leo,” Nate whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Like a Greek Adonis.”

Leo’s heart pounded at Nate’s words, the compliment sending a surge of heat through him. As the intensity between them deepened, Leo instinctively turned onto all fours. Slowly, he reached back, sliding his underwear down to reveal his smooth, fuzzy, muscular cheeks. With a deliberate arch of his back, he offered himself to Nate, his heart racing in his chest as a potent mix of anticipation and vulnerability coursed through him.

Nate took a moment to drink in the sight before him. Leo’s body was a masterpiece of strength and beauty, his glutes full and rounded, the muscles subtly flexing as he held himself steady. The combination of Leo’s athletic frame and the vulnerability of his position ignited a powerful wave of desire in Nate, stirring something deep and primal within him.

As the intensity of the moment grew, Nate’s hands trembled slightly while he began to unbutton his jeans, the anticipation thick in the air. Leo’s eyes widened, a mix of awe and anticipation shining in them as Nate slid off his underwear, revealing the impressive length and girth of his manhood. The sight sent a surge of raw, primal desire coursing through Leo, his heart pounding with longing.

Nate leaned forward, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses along the small of Leo’s back, savoring the feel of the smooth skin beneath them. His hands moved to gently caress Leo’s hips, tracing the contours of his cheeks with a reverent touch. Nate’s movements were slow, deliberate, building the anticipation between them as he lifted himself up with his strong arms, positioning himself over Leo.

With a playful smile, Nate tapped his hardened length against Leo’s right cheek, causing it to bounce slightly. The gesture sent a delicious ripple of desire through Leo, the sensation heightening the tension and deepening the connection between them.

Taking his time, Nate applied lubricant to his impressive length, ensuring every inch was slick and ready. With a gentle touch, he spread a cool layer of the lubricant over Leo’s entrance using his index finger, the sensation sending a shiver of anticipation through Leo’s body. A soft moan escaped Leo’s lips, his body instinctively responding to the care and intimacy of Nate’s touch.

Nate then carefully positioned himself between Leo’s cheeks, guiding the tip of his manhood to rest just at the entrance. Leo could feel the pressure of Nate’s bulbous head against the delicate folds of his skin, a sensation that made his heart race with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

As Nate began to press forward, the tip slowly breached Leo, who instinctively flexed his glutes to accommodate the initial intrusion. With each measured push, Nate eased himself deeper, the sensation of stretching and adjusting intense yet exhilarating for Leo. His hands clenched the sheets beneath him, gripping them tightly as he felt Nate fill him, inch by inch, until finally, Nate’s hips met the firm, rounded muscles of Leo’s cheeks, their bodies fully joined.

Both men let out deep, resonant moans, the pleasure they shared unlike anything Leo had ever experienced. As Nate leaned forward to place a tender kiss on the nape of Leo’s neck, they both reveled in the closeness and profound intimacy of the moment. Leo’s body was warm, inviting, and perfectly fitted to Nate, as though they were made for each other.

Nate began to move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, his hands firmly gripping Leo’s hips as he found a pace that felt instinctual and deeply satisfying. With each movement, Leo surrendered more fully to the moment, the sensation of Nate inside him overwhelming in its intensity. The way their bodies moved in perfect harmony was almost too much to bear, a symphony of pleasure that built with every thrust.

As Nate gradually intensified his pace, Leo’s glutes responded with a rhythmic bounce, his cheeks reverberating with each powerful thrust. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, the pleasure within him building to a crescendo. Every thrust from Nate awakened a newfound, electrifying need in Leo, driving them both closer to the edge, united in a moment of pure, unrestrained passion.

Nate’s grip on Leo’s hips tightened, his fingers digging into the firm, rounded flesh as he drove them both deeper into the moment. Their gasps and moans filled the room, creating a symphony of passion that echoed the intensity of their connection. As the rhythm between them grew more fervent, Leo’s body responded with equal force, his glutes flexing and relaxing with each thrust. At one point, Leo took control, pushing himself back onto Nate with deliberate movements, eliciting a deep, guttural moan of pleasure from Nate.

Nate leaned forward, pressing his chest against Leo’s back as he continued to move. The heat between them was almost unbearable, but they were lost in each other, completely consumed by the love and desire that pulsed between them, drawing them closer with every passing second. The tension in Leo’s body built to an almost unbearable crescendo, the sensation of Nate moving within him pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Nate’s breath grew ragged as he felt the pressure building, each thrust bringing them both closer to a powerful release. “Leo… you feel so perfect,” Nate murmured, his voice thick with emotion and need. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” Leo gasped, his voice trembling with anticipation. “I need you, Nate… don’t stop…”

With one final, powerful thrust, the tension that had been building within them both reached its peak. Nate let out an impassioned groan as Leo was overcome by the intense warmth spreading through him as Nate filled him completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the depth of their connection almost too much to bear. The wave of pleasure that crashed over them was so powerful it left them both trembling, their bond deepening and solidifying in a way neither had ever experienced before. In that moment, their bodies and souls were perfectly in sync, united in an embrace that transcended the physical, binding them together in a profound love and shared ecstasy.

As the waves of pleasure slowly subsided, Nate gently withdrew, his hands caressing Leo’s cheeks one last time before he turned him to his side and held him close. Their bodies were still humming with the afterglow, their hearts racing as they tried to process what had just happened.

Nate pressed an impassioned kiss to Leo’s lips as they lay together on the couch. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion and certainty.

Leo’s eyes shone with tears of happiness as he looked up at Nate. “I love you too,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, but carrying the weight of his feelings.

As they lay entwined in the quiet of the night, their bodies still connected, neither of them could have imagined that this night of passion would soon lead to a new chapter in their lives—one that would bring them even closer together and test the strength of their love in ways they had yet to discover.

Leo & Nate Part 2

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