#robert f kennedy x reader

[withthecolorizedkennedys]

jfk and rfk x reader love triangle maybeee threesome soshsjakhdhfhd

Democracy in Action (Between the Sheets)

synopsis: you thought you were caught in a tug-of-war between jack and bobby—turns out, they’d rather share. what follows is less of a competition and more of a collaboration.

word count: 2.5k

pairing: john f. kennedy x reader, robert f. kennedy x reader, robert f. kennedy x reader x john. f kennedy rating: 18+; includes depictions of threesomes

author's note: i am so sorry if this let you down!!! this is my first time writing something involving a threesome haahsgkdsh

The first time you met Jack Kennedy, you'd been working as a secretary at the State Department. He was a freshman congressman then—charming, irreverent, with a smile that made you forget your own name. The second time you met him, he took you to dinner at Martin's Tavern. By the third meeting, you were in his bed.

Bobby came later. You'd been seeing Jack for nearly six months when his younger brother appeared at a campaign function. Where Jack was all easy charm and practiced seduction, Bobby was intensity wrapped in quiet determination. He watched you from across the room with those piercing eyes, and you felt something shift inside you.

"My brother's quite taken with you," Bobby had said when Jack stepped away to greet supporters. His voice was softer than Jack's, but no less commanding.

"I'm quite taken with him too," you replied, though you couldn't help but notice how Bobby's gaze lingered on your lips.

Three weeks later, after a heated argument with Jack about his latest indiscretion with a blonde socialite, you found yourself at Bobby's apartment, seeking comfort. The comfort turned to conversation, conversation to confessions, and confessions to his mouth on yours, urgent and possessive.

"Jack can't know," Bobby had whispered against your neck. "Not yet."

But secrets had a way of revealing themselves. Jack had suspected something was happening between you and Bobby for months. The way his brother looked at you across dinner tables. The way you sometimes mentioned Bobby's name with a slight flush to your cheeks.

Jack never confronted you directly. Instead, he became more attentive, more passionate—as if determined to remind you why you'd fallen for him first. The brothers' natural competitiveness extended to you, though neither acknowledged it openly.

For six months, you'd been caught between them. Jack, with his wit and charm, his ability to make you laugh even as he drove you mad with his wandering eye. Bobby, with his fierce loyalty and intensity, the way he looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.

Tonight was supposed to be just you and Jack. He'd invited you to his Georgetown townhouse, promising an intimate dinner. You wore the blue dress he liked, the one that matched your eyes and clung to your curves in a way that made his gaze darken with desire.

When you arrived, Jack greeted you with a kiss that lingered, his hands already finding the small of your back, pulling you against him.

"I've been thinking about you all day," he murmured, his Boston accent thickening as it always did when he wanted you.

The knock at the door came just as Jack was pouring the wine.

"Expecting someone?" you asked, suddenly anxious.

Jack frowned. "No."

When he opened the door, Bobby stood there, a file folder in hand. "Jack, I need to discuss the—" His words died when he saw you sitting on the sofa, wine glass in hand.

The air in the room changed instantly, charged with an electricity that made your skin prickle.

"Bobby," Jack said, his voice neutral but his eyes sharp. "What a surprise."

"I didn't realize you had company." Bobby's gaze moved from you to Jack, then back to you. "I can come back tomorrow."

"Nonsense," Jack said, stepping aside. "Come in. Have a drink with us."

You watched the silent communication between the brothers—a language of glances and subtle shifts in posture that you'd come to recognize but couldn't fully translate.

Bobby hesitated, then entered, setting the folder on a side table. Jack poured him a glass of wine, and the three of you sat in the living room, the conversation strained with unspoken tensions.

Jack sat beside you on the sofa, his hand resting possessively on your knee. Bobby took the armchair across from you, his eyes tracking Jack's hand on your body.

"We were just about to have dinner," Jack said, his thumb tracing small circles on your knee. "You should join us, Bobby."

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Bobby replied, though his eyes never left you.

"It's no intrusion," Jack insisted. Then, with a casualness that belied the weight of his words: "After all, we're all… close friends here, aren't we?"

Your breath caught. Did he know? Had he always known?

Bobby's jaw tightened. "Jack—"

"Let's not pretend," Jack interrupted, his hand sliding higher on your thigh. "I know my brother, and I know you." He turned to you, his eyes dark with something between desire and challenge. "The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

Your heart hammered against your ribs. "What do you mean?"

Jack's smile was dangerous, thrilling. "I mean, why choose?"

Bobby stood abruptly. "This isn't appropriate."

"Since when have Kennedys concerned themselves with what's appropriate?" Jack laughed, but there was an edge to it. He turned to you. "Tell him to stay."

The moment stretched between the three of you, taut with possibility. You looked at Bobby, saw the conflict in his eyes—desire warring with propriety, with brotherly loyalty.

"Stay," you said softly.

Something shifted in Bobby's expression. He sat back down, his posture rigid.

Jack's hand moved higher on your thigh, under the hem of your dress. "I've seen how you look at her, Bobby," he said, his voice low. "And I've seen how she looks at you."

"Jack," Bobby warned.

"No more secrets," Jack continued. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. "Tell him what you want."

Your mouth went dry. The wine in your glass trembled slightly with the shaking of your hand. "I want… both of you."

The admission hung in the air, impossible to take back.

Bobby's eyes darkened. Jack's hand tightened on your thigh.

"Come here," Jack said to his brother, his voice commanding in a way that brooked no argument.

Bobby hesitated only a moment before moving to the sofa, sitting on your other side. The heat of the two men pressed against you made your head swim.

Jack's mouth found yours first, hungry and demanding. When he pulled away, he nudged you toward Bobby. "Show him how you kiss me."

Bobby's kiss was different—more restrained at first, then breaking into something desperate and needy. Jack watched, his hand still on your thigh, moving higher.

"Beautiful," Jack murmured, and you weren't sure if he meant you or the sight of you with his brother.

Bobby's hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as he deepened the kiss. Jack's fingers found the zipper of your dress, slowly drawing it down your back. The cool air hit your skin, making you shiver.

"Stand up," Jack commanded softly.

You did, your legs unsteady. Jack tugged your dress down, letting it pool at your feet. You stood before the Kennedy brothers in nothing but your lingerie and heels, feeling their eyes roam over your body.

"Christ," Bobby whispered.

Jack stood, circling behind you. His hands slid around your waist, up to cup your breasts through the silk of your bra. "Look at her, Bobby. Have you ever seen anything so perfect?"

Bobby remained seated, his eyes dark with desire, his breathing visibly quickened. "Jack, if this is some kind of game—"

"No game," Jack interrupted, his lips on your neck. "Just us. The three of us, being honest for once."

You reached out a hand to Bobby. "Please."

He took it, rising to stand before you. Jack continued to kiss your neck, his hands roaming your body from behind while Bobby stood frozen in front of you.

"Touch her," Jack encouraged his brother.

Bobby's hands were tentative at first, then grew bolder as they skimmed up your sides, over your ribs, to meet Jack's at your breasts. The sensation of four hands on your body, two mouths—Jack's on your neck, Bobby's now on your collarbone—sent heat pooling between your legs.

Jack unhooked your bra, letting it fall away. Bobby's breath hitched as he took in the sight of you. His mouth descended to your breast, tongue circling your nipple while Jack's fingers pinched the other.

"Let's move this to the bedroom," Jack suggested, his voice rough with desire.

The walk to Jack's bedroom was a blur of hands and mouths, of clothing being shed. By the time you reached the bed, Bobby was down to his undershirt and trousers, Jack in just his pants. You were completely naked, skin flushed with arousal.

Jack lay back on the bed, pulling you on top of him. "Come here," he said to Bobby, who still stood at the foot of the bed, watching.

Bobby hesitated only a moment before joining you. You crawled up, straddling Jack’s chest, but he caught your hips and tugged you higher—guiding you until your thighs framed his face. You were facing Bobby now, your knees braced on either side of Jack’s head, the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin.

"That’s it, sweetheart," Jack murmured, his hands firm on your hips before dipping lower, pulling you down to meet his mouth.

You gasped, hands clutching at Bobby's shoulders for support. Bobby's mouth found yours, swallowing your moans as Jack's tongue worked against you. Bobby's hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples in time with Jack's ministrations.

"She tastes incredible, Bobby," Jack murmured against you. "You should find out for yourself."

Bobby's eyes met yours, seeking permission. You nodded, breathless.

They shifted positions, Jack moving to sit at the head of the bed while Bobby settled between your legs. The first touch of Bobby's tongue made you arch off the bed. Where Jack had been skilled and practiced, Bobby was eager and thorough, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open for him.

Jack watched, his eyes dark with lust. He guided your head to his lap. "Show Bobby how good you are with that pretty mouth."

You took Jack into your mouth, moaning around him as Bobby's tongue delved deeper inside you. The dual sensations—Bobby between your legs, Jack between your lips—were overwhelming. Jack's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your rhythm.

"That's it," Jack encouraged, his voice strained. "Take me deeper."

You complied, relaxing your throat to take more of him while Bobby's tongue circled your clit, his fingers now sliding inside you. The pressure built rapidly, your body caught between the two men, used and pleasured from both ends.

Your orgasm hit suddenly, making you cry out around Jack's length. Bobby didn't relent, his mouth working you through the waves of pleasure until you were trembling.

Jack pulled you up, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. "I want to watch you ride Bobby," he said against your lips.

Bobby had stripped completely now, sitting back against the headboard. Jack guided you to him, helping you straddle his brother. Bobby's hands gripped your hips as you sank down onto him, both of you groaning at the sensation.

Jack positioned himself behind you, his chest to your back, hands reaching around to cup your breasts as you began to move on Bobby. "That's it," Jack murmured in your ear. "Show him how you move for me."

You rode Bobby slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. Jack's hands roamed your body, occasionally reaching down to where you and Bobby were joined, his fingers circling your clit.

"Jack," Bobby groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. "I can't—"

"Not yet," Jack commanded. He moved away briefly, returning with something in his hand. You felt the cool touch of lubricant between your cheeks, Jack's finger circling your other entrance.

"Have you ever taken both of us?" Jack asked, his finger pressing gently inside.

You shook your head, breathless at the new sensation.

"Do you want to?" His finger pressed deeper, preparing you.

"Yes," you gasped, the word barely audible.

Jack worked you open carefully, adding a second finger while you continued to move on Bobby. The dual sensations were intense, bordering on overwhelming.

When Jack finally positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock pressing against your prepared entrance, Bobby stilled beneath you. "Are you sure?" Bobby asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You nodded, beyond words.

Jack pushed forward slowly, the stretch burning despite his preparation. You gasped, caught between pain and pleasure as both Kennedy brothers filled you completely.

"Breathe," Jack instructed, his voice strained with the effort of holding still.

Gradually, the discomfort faded, replaced by a fullness that bordered on transcendent. When you began to move, the sensation of both men inside you, separated by only the thinnest barrier, was unlike anything you'd experienced.

They found a rhythm—Jack pulling back as Bobby thrust up, never leaving you empty. Your body was a bridge between them, connecting the brothers in the most intimate way possible.

Jack's hand snaked around to rub your clit as they moved within you. "Come for us," he commanded. "Let us feel you."

Your second orgasm was more powerful than the first, your body clenching around both men, drawing them deeper. Bobby came first, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulsed inside you. Jack followed moments later, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he found his release.

The three of you collapsed in a tangle of limbs, sweat-slicked and breathless. For several minutes, no one spoke, the only sound in the room your collective breathing gradually slowing.

Jack was the first to move, extracting himself carefully before disappearing into the bathroom. Bobby held you against his chest, his heartbeat gradually steadying beneath your ear.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, his hand stroking your hair.

You nodded, too spent for words.

When Jack returned, he brought a warm washcloth, cleaning you with surprising tenderness. The brothers yet again exchanged a look over your head—something unspoken passing between them that you couldn't decipher.

"What happens now?" you finally asked, voicing the question that hung in the air.

Jack stretched out beside you, his hand finding yours. "Now? Now we sleep. Tomorrow…" He shrugged, that familiar Kennedy smile playing at his lips. "Tomorrow we figure it out."

Bobby's arm tightened around you. "Jack's right. For tonight, let's just be."

You settled between them, Jack's chest to your back, Bobby's to your front. As sleep began to claim you, you felt the tension that had existed between the brothers ease slightly. Whatever competition had driven them before seemed temporarily sated.

In the morning, you knew, the complications would return. The world outside this bedroom would intrude with all its expectations and judgments. But for now, caught between two of the most promising political scions in Washington, you allowed yourself to simply exist in the moment.

Just before you drifted off, you felt Jack's lips at your ear. "I always did like sharing with Bobby," he murmured, "but I never expected to enjoy it quite this much."

Bobby's soft chuckle rumbled against your chest. "For once, brother, we're in complete agreement."

[bobbykennedyswife]

“Dream A Little Dream Of Me” 💝

Bobby Kennedy x Reader

synopsis : Bobby has always given you everything you’ve ever wanted, always spoiled you endlessly, and a certain dream makes you feel ready to do the same in return, in the best way you can.

word count : 1.8k

warnings : nothing graphic goes on, just talks about domestic family life and marriage

authors note : hiii this is my first fanfic ever so it might be kind of all over the place, sincerest apologies if that’s the case. also sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy!!

🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽

Bright beams of sunshine passed in through your window, breaking through the silky curtains Bobby had put up for you months earlier, and pulling you from your deep sleep. You rubbed your eyes carefully and shifted slightly, rolling over so your back faced the window and nuzzling your face into the pillow Bobby usually slept on as you began to think. Your mind was fogged by the aftermath of deep slumber, but you could remember one thing clearly. You’d been having quite vivid dreams all night long, ones that made you think about things you hadn’t even considered. Made you think about Bobby, and your future, and the past and present too.

The last time you remembered having a dream as vivid as the one from last night was on the night after Bobby’s proposal to you.

You’d been so excited, and all night long your mind had gifted you with visions of a big, beautiful wedding—a long white aisle with a lace veil trailing along it, wedding rings, Bobby’s tanned hands holding yours and his lips offering generous kisses, an impressively beautiful layered cake, ribbons in your bridesmaids’ hair. It’d all been wonderful to get to imagine, and it left you smiling and blushing bashfully when you awoke, excited like a schoolgirl who’d just been asked to prom.

It hadn’t all just been dreams either, for all of it had really been brought to life, thanks to the sweet nature of your darling Bobby and his extensive familial wealth. You’d told him about your dream, and about your fantasies of your ideal perfect wedding. He’d taken every bit into consideration, and made it all a reality on your big day. The venue and decor at your real wedding had all been beautiful, just like in your dreams—pale shades of pink, yellow, cream, and blue dancing all around the place in exquisitely pleasing order—and the ceremony had been even better, the most romantic, fulfilling moments of your entire life that nothing could’ve ever prepared you nor could ever live up to.

For your honeymoon as well, he’d planned that according to your fantasies of a perfect vacation months earlier. You’d been flipping through a women’s magazine and saw photos of a beautiful 17th century estate in Portugal. A big, castle like home with dozens of rooms of gleaming marble and stone and intricate hand painted designs. A large garden out front filled with beautiful flowers, with a big staircase leading to a huge crystal clear pool, acres of perfect green grass and a clear path through the enormity of the estate intended to be used as a moat of admiration. The coast was nearby, as well, so you could make a trip out to the beach whenever you wanted.

You had adored the property, and showed it to Bobby later that evening in bed. You’d hinted at maybe going somewhere like that for your honeymoon, or for some other vacation down the line. You hadn’t explicitly stated that you wanted to stay in that exact home, you knew renting it would be enormously expensive and you didn’t want to make Bobby feel like he had to put all the money unnecessarily into something like that. You didn’t want to seem too frivolous or like a gold digger, nor did you want to overwhelm him. Your worries were completely thrown out the window by Bobby, though, and you discovered this was such when he surprised you about a week later with plane tickets to Portugal and the news he’d rented the whole place out for your honeymoon.

You’d been so excited and thanked him nearly hundreds of times, basking in the joy of having a man that really seemed to be eager to do absolutely anything under the sun if it would please you. He was so doting and so kind, and spoiled you so much you almost felt guilty for it. You knew you were much luckier than most women, knew you had the greatest husband you possibly could. He gave you everything, did everything, and it made you want to do the same for him.

And maybe that—knowing Bobby would do anything for you, everything was possible with him, you could have any future you thought up thanks to his doting unconditional sweetness—was why you’d dreamed so vividly of finally making a father out of him.

That was certainly the greatest gift you could give him, and was a dream of yours, like a majority of other wonderful things you’d enjoyed together.

Your dreams of a wedding had of course come true, your dreams of a perfect honeymoon had come true, you had a marriage that would’ve been the stuff of fairytale and fantasy to you when you were a young girl. Maybe this was supposed to come true as well. Maybe the next thing you were meant to have was.. a baby.

You were snapped out of your long winded train of thought by the door creaking open, and you turned your head up to see none other than Bobby stepping into the room, in all his handsome Kennedy glory. He usually got up earlier than you and wasn’t in bed when you woke up, so you hadn’t even really processed his absence till now, but now that you had, you realized you’d missed him. He was already dressed for the day in a sweater and slacks, and held a cup of coffee for you in his hand.

“Well, good morning, dear.” That familiar boyish smile came onto his face as he spoke and made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge and setting your mug down on the nightstand. He leaned down, brushing your soft hair off of your face and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, his lips curved up in a faint smile.

“I would’ve woken you up a bit sooner, but you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t bring myself to.” Bobby spoke, keeping his voice soft and running his fingers through your hair, gazing down at you. “I made a cup of coffee for you. Figured you’d want it, you usually do.”

You allowed yourself to relax against his touch and shut your eyes again, though it wasn’t for the intention of sleeping or even really relaxing. It just served the purpose of allowing you to focus more solely on Bobby’s gentle touch, and bask in the quiet intimacy of the moment without the extra stimulation of sight.

You gave a slight nod after he told you he’d brought you coffee, smiling softly. Bobby was quiet for a moment after your lack of a response, and he soon started to talk about his duties for the day, softly speaking about plans with Jack. He had a few meetings or something, and had paperwork to fill out. You didn’t really know, as you hadn’t been listening much. You were too busy thinking still, and Bobby always had a tendency to ramble.

You gently interrupted him a minute or two into his soft rambling.

“I dreamed about you.”

Bobby was snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing your voice. He processed your words and smiled a bit at them but didn’t respond with much, just a soft, “Yeah?”

He was hoping his lack of substantial reply would encourage you to speak again, and tell him more. He was always interested in what went on in your mind, whether it was when you were asleep or awake. He thought you had a beautiful way of thinking, a beautiful mind and psyche. Probably why he always took your advice on serious matters, with no second thoughts.

“I dreamed that.. that we had a baby. A little girl. She had your eyes and smile, and my hair. We loved her so much, she fit right into everything. It felt so real. We gave her a pink nursery and she had little pajamas with Bambi on them, and we put little pink bows in her hair. Oh, it was so precious.”

Bobby’s eyes went slightly wide for a moment at the words that sounded from you. He hadn’t necessarily been expecting to hear that, but he wasn’t upset about it. No no, not upset at all. Quite the opposite, really. He’d been waiting to hear something like that from you, waiting for a confirmation that you were ready for a life like that with him. He’d always known that you would eventually, he’d just chosen to be a gentleman and wait for you to decide when you wanted it. And now that it sounded like you were reaching that point, he was beyond excited. The prospect of a baby, a sweet little thing to cherish and love, filled him bright joy.

“Well I.. I’d be ready to make that a reality. That is, only if you are, Y/N. You’ve never brought this up before, so don’t decide on a spur of the moment type thing. We have all the time in the world, you know.”

You’d been married for just under a year, but you loved eachother so deeply, you both could be certain that nothing could happen that would cause you to split. And most certainly a baby wouldn’t . A baby would be a blessing, the physical embodiment of your love for eachother. It’d tie you together even more, make you as close as you possibly could be past marriage, bonded for life. You’d be parents together, the natural next big step in your love story.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked up at the man in front of you. You smiled softly and reached your hand up to rest it on his hand that was still against your cheek. You leaned your head to the side a bit and gently kissed his palm. “I.. I think I’m ready, Bobby. I just needed a little reminder that it was a possibility for us. I guess that’s why the angels or something blessed me with a dream about it.”

Bobby’s smile widened and he gazed for a moment before sliding his hand away, instead wrapping both of his arms around your waist and pulling you up slightly. He leaned in further and pressed gentle kisses to your face, all along your cheeks and your forehead and jaw, and anywhere else he could reach without going below the neck. You smiled brightly and allowed him to shower you in all this attention, definitely enjoying it quite a bit and showing your appreciation in soft giggles and an embrace, your arms sliding around his neck.

Bobby finally stopped the kisses and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. His face was smooth, so you knew he’d shaved this morning, and you could feel his lips curved up into a smile against your skin. You slid your fingers through his hair, and he sweetly spoke up.

“What are we waiting for then?”

[ddlydevotion]

bobby kennedy ‘rfk’ x fem reader husband hcs…

currently listening to: Tomorrow Never Came by LDR ݁₊ ⊹ . !!

Bobby isn’t a stranger to having a rebellious streak every once in a while. He has absolutely no issue going up against his parents with the purpose of defending you. If your upbringing or religion (or lack thereof) comes into discussion, he’s defending you as if the world will end if he doesn’t.

He’ll most likely resort to straight up lying about your religious status if it means saving you from his parent’s wrath.

He’s constantly making you laugh with his witty remarks. There’s been many moments where he’s made you laugh unintentionally but it makes him smile knowing he’s the one who’s made you giggle. It is one of his favorite sounds, after all.

Bobby worries much more than he’d like to about his brother, Jack, trying to make a move on you. He knows his brother, I mean he’s seen the way his brother deals with his urges. He also knows full well that the fact Jack is married won’t stop him from indulging in his desires. As Evan Thomas said: “He needed to indulge this phenomenal and really unseemly sex drive. It was for rich girls, poor girls, old girls, young girls, all girls all the time.”

Bobby puts up a somewhat hard exterior in public because that is what’s necessary when pursuing a career in politics. However, he’s sickeningly sweet when it comes to you. He cannot contain his love for you even when the two of you are in front of dozens of cameras.

There are dozens upon dozens of photos of the two of you looking at each other like lovesick puppies.

Bobby rarely ever gets angry with you. For the simple fact that he’s considered the ‘softer’ one of the brothers, I believe he’d do an incredible job at comforting you. He’s a sturdy shoulder for you to lean on and he takes great pride in being so. He’d hate for you to feel as if you need to hide your feelings, negative or positive.

He is sososo gentle with you in general but especially when you’re crying and in need of comfort. He’ll hold you within his arms that give the illusion of a warm blanket, and kiss your hair.

This man is constantly taking photographs of you 🙄. There’s no use in attempting to hide behind your hands because he’ll just take a photo of that, too. Has a habit of writing the cutest of things on these photographs.

can get a bit insecure when it comes to certain aspects of his political abilities, but you’re always there to reassure him. He leans into your touch and his face is painted with a shy smile as a result of your praise.

“The people adore you, Bobby. They love you. Not as much as me, of course, but you’re the number one candidate in their hearts. Okay?”

Never fails to thank you in his speeches.

Calls you sweet girl, baby, sweetheart, honey. All of those little nicknames fall off his tongue oh so sweetly.

spoils you endlessly. He’s amazing when it comes to gift giving and uses that to his advantage. He remembers every little thing about you and it truly shines through in not just his gift giving, but also in every aspect of your relationship.

It’s quite a lot to get used to as you’re not used to being surrounded with such obvious symbols of wealth. Don’t even bother trying to stop him from spending his very well earned money on you. He’s simply going to press a lingering kiss to your lips before saying, “let me take care of my girl.”

He’s painfully devoted to you. The two of you got married very early on in your relationship. He didn’t see the point in waiting.

Sharing beautiful evenings with him by the sea in Hyannis Port. Films you lying underneath the sun shade, draped in the bathing suit he purchased for you. He swears, there’s nowhere he’d rather be than right there with you.

a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading and I’ll most likely do a part two 💌🪽🍨.

Taglist: @bobbykennedyswife @melancholicstation @lancerslover @vintagedebutante

[melancholicstation]

You heard my baby's back in town now! — controversially young!gf bobby kennedy one-shot

imagine... you are bobby kennedy's controversially young girlfriend who he met at a an oregon mall during his brother's campaign for president in 1959. fast forward a few months and you're finally taking the next step in your relationship: meeting the family.

taglist: @obsessedwithjohnjr @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @unmarlou @joansiesbeloved @jackiesgirl @acrowdedstreetin1944 @miumiumoods @yeuxdenina @its-esdras @jacobseresin @yspix7y @violetharmonsfavgf @vampyiricris @harajukub4rb1e @ironcowboycopnickel @valleyxdoll @angelitawings @monturi @starsprangledgirl

inspired by @unmarlou's age gap!bobby kennedy, go give this blog some ♥️ .

warnings: heavy mention of age-gap, multiple flashbacks, uses lyrics from Taco Truck x VB, use of terms of endearment, period typical sexism (not bobby)

words: 2,862

Most of the time you wouldn't say holding down a 9 to 5 at one of the biggest breakfast chains in middle America was an exciting career endeavour for a 22 year old woman but here you were. That was until you met him: your boyfriend of six months who'd shown himself to be a great lover and an even better giver, always draping you in the finest of mulberry silk and yellow diamond. You weren't shallow though, you would've loved him the same if all he had were the clothes on his back and that floppy hair of his.

However you wouldn't have to because he had the ultimate privilege or curse, many would go on to say, of being born into one of the richest families in America, and was the brother of the Democratic Party pick for president in 1960. Oh, and his name was Bobby Kennedy.

*Flashback to December 5th, 1959*

After working your job at Waffle house for about 2 weeks you knew it was hell, filled with grimy men hitting on you with their dirty pickup lines their dad probably taught them at age 15, that bitch of a co-worker, and a drab work attire that your boss, Susan, seemed to have affinity for catching any slight deviations of. Superficially it was mostly the outfit requirements that bothered you: I mean how were you ever supposed to leave this damned place if your own uniform made sure that no person, regardless of gender, would ever humanly find you attractive.

Despite this, you persevered and tried to work around it. If your boss told you to wear a plain blue top: you wore a lightly stripped blue button-up with featuring an embroidered, ruffled star motif on the chest. If your boss told you to wear heather grey bottoms: you wore an extremely short dark navy skort with built in shorts for the so called modesty striven for in the dress code. I mean for christ sakes this wasn't the White House now was it?

You often pared the dreary outfit with a pair of suede ballerina's in navy: a bit of an oxymoron where your mother was concerned due to the nearly perpetual state of wetness synonymous with Oregon lately. Adorning your neck with the one staple in your jewellery escapes: an antique scapular on black silk cord.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder defiantly: a bag so filled to the brim that it didn't look so much like a bag anymore and more like a rather large and rather worn sack. However you did attempt to beautify its exterior by applying randomised trinkets to it's complexion such as: a statement cross pendant held together with leather twine, a religious pocket book passed down from your grandmother on your Spanish side, and a stone rosary.

Departing from the trinkets adoring the handles of your bag, the once smooth leather of the bag was now covered in tiny hole marks from the pins of the buttons you so religiously adorned your bag with. Many—who were you kidding, all were of John F. Kennedy and his running mate Lyndon B. Johnson. Now you weren't so much of a fan of Johnson as you were of Kennedy but you were seldom able to find ones of Jack by himself. That's why the ones of jack stayed front and centre, with the ones of Johnson meandering in the background, wrapping around the sides of the leather.

It had been a couple hours of your shift before you granted yourself the masochistic reflex of checking the time: counting down the length of time until you were free.

Checking the clock you realise it had not in fact been hours, in reality it had only been an hour and three minutes. Boy time really just flies by when you're serving up cheesesteak melt has brown bowls at five-thirty in the morning: I mean seriously what kind of sicko does that?, and getting hit on by men who look like they could've been your father.

That was until you hear that disntict clink of the door chin: alerting you to a new customer. Exasperated with, well—life, you look up already annoyed. Annoyed until you meet the hilarious sight of a strange man crouched under a comically small umbrella, surrounding by some very self-important all dressed in suit and tie: a stark contrast to the typical male style expected of in Oregon.

Before you can catch a glimpse of the man he's herded into a booth far out of your range of sight. Despite being interested your attention is called for when a woman orders a hot coffee to-go. Y'know, it did always suck when you had to do your actual job and not just people watch for a living.

Out of nowhere two voices come within your earshot,

"No, Tim—I can do it myself. God damn it! You people treat me like a child, I can order my own food." a voice expressed that somehow towed that line between being intrinsically feminine and masculine at the same time.

The other voice begrudgingly backs off but continues,

"I know you're not a child Bob, but I'm trying to help you. Y'know that's kind of my job as advisor, to advise you on shit."

"Fine. You go do it, i'll wait over here like a dog." ,the voice says expressing a particular strain of annoyance you had yet to hear vocalised until that moment.

This man has an advisor? What the he—

"Hey-Uh, could I get a pecan waffle and a dark roast coffee."

Surprised for a moment, you compose yourself and reply "Sure, coming right up."

Shuffling into the back with the intention to tell the cook the order, and then maybe take a cheeky smoke from your bag in the meantime. Maybe.

After telling the cook, you find yourself b-lining for your bag. Getting to your bag, you start fiddling for a lighter that was until you hear a peculiar set of shuffling feet suspiciously close to you.

That's when you realise that you completely missed, on your mission for your bag, a real human man leaning his back against the bag rack.

"Oh-Mary and Joseph—you nearly gave me a heart attack."

The figure, and the face comes into your range of sight and your semi totally mortified. The president-to-be's brother had just seen you try to go for a smoke.

"Oh I'm sorry I just don't like the noises. Forks scraping on plates gives me the chills." the man chuckles.

In politeness you chuckle back, in order to get the elephant out of the room you say,

"Now you're Robert Kennedy aren't you?"

"In the flesh" he says with a quite sassy display of his hands, patting himself on the chest in an act to display his human quality.

"Well I have to say I'm enamoured by your brother's campaign, he's doing so wonderfully."

"Thank you, well I happen to think so too. But I'm a bit biased—y'know it's kind of in my job description. I pegged you for a jack supporter."

"How so?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe the pins on that bag of yours gave me a bit of a clue."

Mortified you look away that was, until, he redirects your head movements with his hand turning your chin back to his with the divine authority of a man much older than you. Though you're not repulsed by that fact, in all reality it's quite the opposite.

"Hey-Hey hey don't be embarrassed. I think it's awfully cute of you, though I wish you didn't have so many of that Johnson and maybe one of me." ,he says in a tone that carries the passion of a thousand un-spoken grievances, peeking your curiosity.

Lifting his hand off your chin, he lightly pets your hair: much like you assume he would do to perhaps a Boston terrier or a bengal kitten. With that same tenderness.

"I better let you get back to work. I'm sure you don't want some old man like me keeping you from your job"

Bashfully you smile, subtly shaking your head in retort. However he does raise a good point, such a good point in fact that it has you turning your heels back in the direction of the front counter. But not before turning your head slightly back—subtly saying goodbye with a smile and a slight wave of the fingertips, to which he mirrors with a sheepish, smug grin.

By the time your shift ends your exhausted and love sick over that man, whom you had only had in your presence for a bijou length of time but had been pondering about for hours.

Reaching for your bag before officially clocking out, you notice a new edition to your bag. A bright white and navy blue pin labelled 'Robert F. Kennedy for Vice President' surprised enough already, you're positively baffled to find a small engraving of a number etched into the backside of the pin.

What was on it, you may ask? Well, Robert F. Kennedy's phone number no less,

And that's how it started.

*End of flashback*

There were moments when you were faced with the awkward societal magnifying glass put on your relationship, and increased ten fold because of your scandalous age gap. I mean come on, it was only twelve years. It wasn't that bad. Though there were times you were reminded every now and then of the twelve year generational divide between you two, like in the instance of when he found that pesky little shoe-box underneath your bed.

*Start of flashback*

"Look at me"

"No I simply cannot bear it, Bobby!" you muffle out, the sound muddled due to your mousy blonde curls interference.

"C'mon, sweetie. It's nothing to be ashamed about, you're a grown young woman. I expected this from you, I'd be weirded out if you didn't partake in this sort of stuff. It's endearing, I promise." ,bobby teases, making a big show of his "promise" by dramatically holding out his arms in a prayer motion.

An action you find less than funny: ending with Bobby getting a pillow through straight towards his head, to which he dodges with ease.

What had caused this whole mess was that you'd tasked Bobby with the mission of finding that cotton camisole he'd so recklessly strewn across your bedroom in the throws of your shared passion. It was your belief that if he did it he should fix it.

However that adventure had led to bobby finding a particularly embarrassing set of erotic books hidden in a shoebox. Each with a more embarrassingly brazen title than it's former.

You had never seen him laugh so much than that day.

"Honey, I'm not laughing at you. It's just-y'know back in my day we never had this. We had to use our imagination, oh how times are changing. It's exciting really" he says adopting a semi sarcastic tone that borders on mocking.

His comments cause you to sulk even more, retreating into yourself perched at the foot of the bed, "Bobby don't be mad, I don't even read that stuff now! not with you. I was so in-experienced back then , I had no idea about anything."

"Oh baby, c'mere" he motions you to him, eventually gathering you up into a bundle and takes you into his lap.

Combing through your hair he explains "Baby of course I'm not made at you. How could I be? with such a pretty face like this. Y'know I'm glad you had those books, though I do like keeping you all to my self. And I certainly don't want to share you with any fictional man." he says in an order to lighten up the room, while dabbing slightly at your cheeks

"Don't cry pretty girl, I hate to see you cry, it hurts me, hurts me real bad. I know you don't wanna hurt me now do ya? Huh?"

Nodding, you compose yourself slightly and lay your head timidly on his chest: slightly hairy and stunk of an addictive sort of musk.

Your slightly moved when he moves his body trying to get something out of his pocket

"Princess, look what I found!"

And there it was your favourite cotton camisole, back in your possession. Sometimes you didn't know how he did it, he just did.

*End of flashback*

And that's how your relationship went for six months. Though it was hard to maintain a relationship being that he was in such a different life stage than you, and coupled with the fact that he was on a gruelling campaign trail with his brother. To be honest most days he would come and see you, you'd just lay in bed soaking up each other's presence. On the days you would venture outside as a couple you got more than a couple looks, and you had your fair share of unfavourable coverage in the media being that you were the controversially young girlfriend by the side of the man who's brother was on track to become president of the United States. But you both brush it off, you knew your truths.

You hadn't seen bobby in two whole weeks and you were beginning to get desperate. Though it wasn't like he was depriving you, he stuck to a strict schedule of calling you every day at seven in the evening: no matter rain or shine. Some times he would catch you eating a late dinner, for which he would scold you about adopting the tone he used in those senate meetings. And others where he would catch you in bed early, and one thing would lead to another. Thank god that you both had been smart enough to check for wiretapping, or else it would've made you two more of social piranhas than you already were...

And sure enough at seven pm, your phone rang off the hook,

"Hey baby, how are ya? Tell me all about what a sweet girl like you was doing all day? I wanna hear it all, leave no detail out." he says in a tone that reveals his true earnest nature that you've come to so cherish in your relationship.

So, you indulge him, "Honey, I got up so early, and then, I got into the shower"

He hums attentively down the line, encouraging you to tell him what you did next: to which you inform him that you took a nap mid-day, "I was just able to go back to sleep for a hour and a half. So that rocked, um, anyway."

"Did ya dream of anything special?" he says while shifting in his leather chaise seat: you assumed he was halted up in his hotel in some nameless city along the trail.

"I had this dream where, um, I don't know-" you trail off sharing some half-baked dream that you weren't sure you comprehend yourself. Apologising you ask about his day,

"Oh sweetie, don't apologise I asked, I wanted to know. I did want to talk about something with you though. Y'know how Jack is coming back to Oregon before the primary. Well, I thought what better a time to introduce you to my family. They'll just adore you baby, I promise just like I do."

Blushing and taken by surprise you bashfully reply, of course agreeing.

"That's great, you'll do amazing. Though, I do have to warn you about their line of questioning. They have a penchant for sort of quizzing girls that I take home about world events, it's like a sport to them-my parents I mean, my siblings will be just fine to handle. I just want you to be prepared."

"Okay, well what kind of events. Like events in your times?" you say sarcastically.

"Okay, Miss Attitude. I'm not from the 1890s, y'know we're only a decade apart. But I'll quiz you when I visit you in a couple days. I'll make it real easy for you, put in some recent events that you know: though you're a smart cookie you'll get it in no time baby."

"Bob, you're making me very nervous. They're not going to go too hard on me right?"

"Oh my sweet, you'll get used to them. They make a big fuss but they're relatively harmless, they'll see how happy you make me and that'll be the end of it. Promise."

After his assurances, you were left unbridled with happiness after you hung up the phone. I mean how hard could it be to charm a family like the Kennedys, they seemed nice enough? You charmed one of their sons so how troublesome could it really be? Jackie looked warm and open in the newspaper, Joan looked a delight and Jack well I'm sure you could bate your eye at him and he would be sufficiently pleased at your presence. Though that left out the parents, which were often the hardest of the bunch when fulfilling the daunting duty of meeting the family, you were sure it would be Bobby assured you so.

And why would he ever need to lie to you?

signing off: bang, bang xx

[h-l-v-kennedy-blog]

Unadvised (getting so close to someone so quickly)

pairing: robert kennedy x oc (ava worthing) synopsis: months fly by and bobby is surely falling in love with ava, even if the timing isn't exactly ideal. warnings: nothing that crazy tbh, joe sr. being an asshole in passing, mentions of bobby loathing lbj. word count: 2,254 notes: after a long time, bobby and ava's story continues. i'm posting this on valentine's day, so happy valentine's, this is your little gift from me to you, readers. here is part 3.

There was a date, then two, then five and more than a dozen in the summer of ‘59, nothing explicit, for in Bobby’s family, he was the more prudish and least lewd of his brothers. But there was a linger of deep desire for Ava, that he began to fester inside him, with or without her near him.  

One month turned to two and so on. Bobby couldn’t help but enjoy any moment of her presence. But such joy wasn’t to be permanent. Jack’s presidential campaign for the party nomination was coming to a head. He was helping lay the groundwork in several states for the campaign, meaning he was travelling all around the country.

He was also managing it, and he knew what words his father would inevitably say to him. “No distractions, head in the game if we want Jack in the White House in January ‘61. After that, do who- or whatever you want. Until then, keep your nose clean and your goal is the campaign.”  

Which the patriarch Joseph P. Kennedy did say to Bobby, no earlier than in late October 1959. 

“Bobby, I know you’ve found some company for yourself, and your mother and I couldn’t be happier. But if she’s going to become a liability or a distraction, then you need to end it. Nothing is going to stand in my... Jack’s way to the White House. No young graduate who’s turned your head, no one.” 

Bobby understood the possible image it would taint. But Ava wasn’t wholly undesirable. She was raised Catholic, came from a good background (her father ran a widely successful publishing company in New York), and was educated. Sure, she was younger than him. The same could be said for Jack and his wife Jacqueline, who had a gap of twelve years, same as him and Ava. So, it wasn’t all that unseemly. However, he argued with himself, it wouldn’t exactly look the best if his courtship would be made public. “Campaign manager is busier with his girlfriend than the campaign” or some headline like that passed through his mind. Because it would derive attention away from Jack and his campaign. Which wasn’t the goal. 

All in all, Joe Sr.’s words meant in short: “Keep this to yourself, don’t overshadow your brother. Don’t bring attention to yourself.” 

And Bobby did what he thought was best. 

He busied himself more with the campaign. Ava was away in the fall and most of the winter of ‘59 anyway. On a ‘worldliness tour’ was what Ava jokingly called it when sending Bobby letters, handwritten letters from Rome, Paris, Tokyo, Berlin and London. He missed her terribly, so terribly in fact he kept one of her letters tucked in a pocket of his slacks or whatever form of pants he wore. He, one time, mistakenly had tucked a letter in his shorts while down in Palm Beach during the holidays and his younger sister Pat had pushed him into the pool. The result was a soaked and ruined letter. Something he fretted over, but to his disdain was unsalvageable. Still, he didn’t deter from keeping a part of her with him at all times. 

--- 

On January 3rd, 1960, Senator John F. Kennedy announced his choice to seek the Democratic Parties nomination for president of the United States of America, meaning the campaign was fully on.  

--- 

April 1960 

Ava was back now. And after settling herself in her shared apartment in Foxhall Village, a neighbourhood in D.C, not that far from Georgetown. She didn’t have a day job yet, and she didn’t really need one, but she knew she had to find something to occupy her days with.  

The phone rings in the hallway, she picks up the black handle. “Hello?” 

“Hello, Ava.” Bobby’s voice crackled through the receiver. 

“Hi, Bobby. Remind me, where are you again?” Ava rested the handle in the crook of her neck as she took the rotary phone into her hand and moved it into her living room, free hand pulling on the long black cord as she collapsed into a blue armchair.

“West Virgnia, the primary-” 

“Jack’s facing off Humphrey, yes, I remember.” She cut him off, remembering. “Oh, sorry, I talked over you.” 

“No, no. I’m glad you remembered, and you can talk over me all you want.” He said things like that, making her insides feel a bit warm and fuzzy. 

“Are you sure? I know it’s a bad habit.” 

“I’m sure, Ava. I like listening to you talk...I miss that.” 

“Should I buy myself a Dictaphone and record myself, and send you the tapes?” A slight laugh came from the other line. 

“I don’t think you have to go to that much trouble for me.” He tried to verbally wave off the idea. 

“Oh, but you’re worth the trouble.” She insisted. Ava had noticed that Bobby could put himself down and downplay his own qualities, and she didn’t like it one bit. 

“Just hearing your voice is enough...and it reminds me that at least one person is definetly voting for Jack.”  

She chuckled and tried to parry his words. “Are you sure, I might swing my vote, who knows?” 

“Oh.” That ‘oh’ meant he had been serious when he said what he said. 

Ava backtracked instantly. “Hey, no ‘oh’, I was kidding, of course I’m voting blue. You know my family votes blue no matter who it is. And if it’s Jack, all the better.” 

“I...I knew that...that you were kidding.” His voice became more high-pitched and reedy when he was nervous or feeling insecure. 

“Bobby, let’s move on. I’m voting Kennedy after your brother takes the nod at the DNC. We’re good, okay? Now, when did you think we could go out for-” 

“I want you to meet my parents.” He said it so fast she was almost sure she misunderstood. 

Ava froze and an empty airspace formed on the phone line. 

She managed to find her voice: “Wa-wait, what? You want me to- Bobby, I’m flattered-” 

“Oh.” Another damn ‘oh’. 

“Let me finish, all right?” 

A hum came from Bobby’s end. 

“Good boy.” A spurt of laughter. “As I was saying. I’m flattered, but are you sure we’re at that point? And you sure they want to meet me during such a important time for your family?” 

“You’re important to me.” He mumbled, softly, Ava almost couldn’t hear him. 

“Yes, I’ve gathered as much. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stuck around even when I was abroad. You know most men, younger, would have found another, while their girlfriend is away abroad.” 

“Well...I do know. That was how Ethel and I...” Yes, the ex, a bit of sore spot, if both sides were honest. It was a shadow that they had yet overcome, and it still brought an air of awkwardness to any conversation she came up in. “...her older sister was abroad, and Ethel..and I...” 

“Ah, I see.” 

“No, but you don’t. I... I learned from that, and I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“Firstly, since I have no younger sister to swoop in and take you away.” Ava deadpanned, making Bobby let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Yes, I know that. And she would be too young anyway.” A pause. “Ava, I promise, I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“I know, Bobby.” 

“Good, good. I want you to know that.” 

“Good, I know.” 

“Maybe, you’re right, about it...maybe we’re not at that point, yet. But my family is very important to me and they’re a big part of my life. And you’ve well...” 

“Yes. All right, why don’t you get your brother through the West Virgnia primary, and we’ll table this? But we will talk about this again.” 

 “You sure? We could just forget-” 

“No, Bobby. We-I want to talk about it, just not over the telephone maybe, while you don’t have six hundred campaign problems clouding your brain?” 

“Okay, you’re probably right.” He conceded. 

“You know what would solve our long-distance problem?” 

“What?” 

“If I just volunteered to work for the campaign, then I’d get to travel with you and you wouldn’t have to miss me so terribly, as you do.” 

“I... I wouldn’t want to be your superior and... boss you around. I couldn’t be seen giving you special treatment. Even if you’re my...girlfriend.” Ava knew he was blushing; he did every time he called her his girlfriend. “It would be...” 

“...nice to have me around. I can type. I can lick stamps. I’d be a good worker, come on, Bobby. Please.”  

“Ava, I... I don’t think that...it’s the best idea.” 

“But don’t you miss me?” 

“Of course, I do.” 

“Then...” 

He gave in. “You’re very determined when you want something, it’s almost irritating.” 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.” 

“No, it isn’t. And when I see you again, I’ll prove you wrong.”  

“I’ll be waiting.” 

---

Ava managed to insert herself quite well into the campaign, being a diligent worker at the headquarters in Boston, where she saw how Bobby managed the campaign with almost military and micro-managing precision. She saw that he could bite someone's head off if they were slacking off, so she knew to always look to be doing something even if she noticed he shifted his tone when he talked to her. His hand would sometimes graze her arm when he asked her for updates on phone calls she made or telegrams she sent. 

During the DNC she managed beforehand to register as a delegate from the New York state delegation, so she was down on the convention floor, cajoling delegates (many older than her) as best as she could. All the while, she and Bobby managed some private rendezvous in their hotel rooms. 

On the morning after the Democratic presidential nomination was secured for the Kennedy campaign, the choice of VP was made in the early hours. 

Bobby, not liking the choice that Jack had made, choosing Senate Majority Leader Lyndon Baines Johnson to be VP, tried in vain to convince LBJ to not join the ticket.

Defeated and irritated after trying to one last time have Jack change his mind and failing, he went over to Ava’s hotel room. He knocked on the door, waiting. 

A moment later, Ava’s figure appeared (wearing a blue silk nightgown with a robe over it) with the door opening. “Who is it?” She knew what choice had been made, but just not the who. 

She knew it wasn’t someone Bobby liked, seeing as he looked like a sad puppy. 

“Johnson.” He scoffed, pushing into her room and flopping onto her bed, behaving not like a grown man, but more like a petulant child. 

“Ah. At least you have a better chance in the South, if he can rally the Dixiecrats.” She offered him the bright side, but he let out a huff and buried his face in her pillows. “Bobby. Come on.” She sat on the bed and gently touched his shoulder. “All is not lost.” 

“But he is a brute who spread stories about Jack just before balloting. I... I don’t trust him, and... ugh.” The more irritated he’d get, the less literate. 

“I know. But that’s just how politics works, you have a enemy who’s trying to stab you in the back, but the next day, you need him as an ally, so he won’t killed by the third guy, who’s after the both of you.” 

“How eloquently put, Miss Worthing.” He turned to lay on his side, a messy forelock of hair in his face. 

Ava pushed it aside, making Bobby sigh as his eyes closed. “A literature degree comes in handy.” 

A small smile came to his lips, and he peeled his eyes open, pale blue eyes catching her grey ones. “You are...something else. You’re much more democratic than I took you for. And you surprise me, constantly. You know so much more than you let on.” 

“Well, I’m a fast learner. When I got you to let me join the campaign, the next day I was at the nearest library.” 

He reached out a hand and his fingers twisted in her hair. “And so, from books you got this... almost calming wisdom? Are you sure you’re the younger one in our pair? I feel like I’m schooled by you more often than not.” 

She chuckled shyly. “Well, I wouldn’t call it wisdom. And I don’t like the thought that I’m making you feel less than.” 

“Which you don’t. I feel...like I don’t deserve you half the time. Because, you're…wonderful." He tugged at the strands of her hair between his fingers, pulling her down to his face.

Smiling, one hand rest on the mattress to steady herself as her face was lowered to his. Their lips touched, careful, but comfortable. The way Bobby touched her was like he was handling fine china or witnessing something sacred. He wasn't too rough with her, since he treasured feeling her mouth against his, his fingers still tangled in her hair. He pulled her closer, making her fall on top of him, letting out a surprised giggle, which did make him more eager.

Her hands had found themselves on his the base of his neck, the back of his head resting against one of her pillows. His hand, that was not tangled in her hair, grasped at her upper back.

Carnal pleasure was a sin, right?

He'd repent later, he needed her more than safe passage to Heaven, right now.

///

Taglist: @jackiesgirl, @theverystrangegirl27, @fortheloveofjos, @kennediva, @stargiirl27, @melancholicstation , @bleatngheart , @rocker-chick-7 , @kimcrystal123

masterlist and earlier parts: Unexpected, Unthinkable.

[kennedyism]

now this looks like fun giggles

Surfin’ USA.

Bobby Kennedy x reader

Summary: Spending a day on the beach with Bobby? Yes please. (Need that!!!!!)

Warnings: This is all just for fun, no need to take this seriously!

Tag list: @jackiesgirl @quietamericans @obsessedwithjohnjr @fortheloveofjos @melancholicstation @rocker-chick-7 @bleatngheart @joansiesbeloved

author’s note: TELL THE TEACHER WE’RE SURFINNNNN SURFIN USAAAAA

“Gee, Jack, I think your age is catching up to you, you can’t even keep up!”

You watch your fianc�� run around with the football in the sand, sunglasses covering your eyes as you stare. It makes you laugh seeing the president trying to keep tabs on his younger, more athletic, younger brother. You’re the only… not Kennedy woman yet, but you get the point, here.

“Hey, Baby!” Bobby shouts, making you snort. He’s so corny, but it’s okay since it’s him. He comes over to you, only in his swim trunks, looking down at you, football in hand. “You oughta come play. Jack’s gettin’ his ass handed to him. You could probably beat him.” He snickers, looking down at your face, then your bikini, not in a sexual way, but just to look at how beautiful you are.

“No, I’m alright… go enjoy yourself.”

Bobby then sits beside you in the sand, pressing a kiss on your cheek which makes you giggle. “Oh, stop… Not here.” You laugh, trying to push him away. but he’s a lot stronger than you, making him lean a bit more next to you, practically pinning you with only sitting next to you.

“Not my fault you’re so pretty.” He flirts, which makes you laugh. Bobby is not normally a flirter. That’s his brother, he’s the more logical one, but you’re not complaining about the sudden change of behavior.

Bobby is very unpredictable. You never know his next move, and that’s what makes him all more lovable and attractive. “Okay, lover boy, that’s enough.” You laugh, gently shoving him off you. You then snicker watching him fall gently in the sand.

The attorney general sits up, brushing the sand off his arms, and then he puts his knees to his chest, the wind blowing in his hair as he stares at you with love in his eyes. He then turns his attention to the Beach Boys song on the radio, then back at you. “Well, you gotta stop saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell outta you.” He sighs out, putting his sunglasses on, and looking at you through the dark plastic.

Those words make you blush, and sputter looking at him. There’s no way he just say that. He seems to be enjoying your reaction, though. You then decide to play along with his games. “Alright… if you wanna kiss me, you gotta catch me.” You say as you stand up, and starting to dart off into the distance.

Bobby is taken back by your actions, and it takes about thirty seconds for it to register and click into his mind, but within that time, he’s onto his feet and chasing after you.

“You forget I played Football!”

“In college!”

“Still played—You callin’ me old?!”

And just as he says that, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace from behind. “Got ya.” He pants, trying to hold you in place, but it’s hard to do so with your squirming and laughter.

“Let go!” You laugh, finally getting out of his grasp, and then you pull Bobby into a kiss, leaving a bright red lipstick mark on his lips, and that makes you burst out laughing, so it makes you do it again. “Oh, wow.” You giggle.

“Are ya done?”

“Not yet…”

You then grab the grab the general’s face, your hands on his cheeks as you place kisses all around his face. You then step back to admire your work. “Now that’s a look.” You say, a hand on your hip, proud of your art work.

“Wow, not gonna let me go out like this, are ya?”

“I gotta let everyone see my work!”

“We can put me in a museum, if you’d like.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

[h-l-vlovesvintage]

to the kennedyfandom

my kennedy focused blog's been taken down, so i'm posting my fanfics over onto my ao3 account.

just finished uploading "save me sabrina fair" over there. all parts that i've written so far. next will be my "unexpected" series, jackie one-shot and other jfk fanfics.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63532681/chapters/162805123

[kennedyconfessions]

I need rfk like plants need water

Confession #35

[vintagedebutante]

i miss President/Kennedy confessions blog posts on my dash so for christmas PLS send ur wildest kennedy confessions to me and I’ll publish them without my added opinion in response hehe

18+ !! pls feel free to be as spicy as u want

I don’t judge

[withthecolorizedkennedys]

Could you.. Possibly.. write a smut fanfic about Bobby in his attorney general office.. perhaps.. 💋

The Attorney General Will See You Now

synopsis: the attorney general’s office is meant for handling affairs of state, not personal affairs. but when you drop by, bobby kennedy is more than happy to bend the rules.

word count: 1.7k

pairing: bobby kennedy x reader

rating: 18+; includes depictions of semi-public sex and vaginal sex

It was your third time in Bobby's office this week, and the first two had been all business. He'd barely looked at you, his eyes fixed on the stack of papers, the telephone, the clock. You'd brought him lunch, brought him a change of clothes, brought him a kiss that landed on his cheek while he was mid-sentence with some assistant about some policy about some state you couldn't remember.

Bobby's tie was loosened but still knotted at his throat when you arrived. He'd been expecting you—the secretary had waved you right in. The blinds were drawn against the afternoon sun, and the office felt like a cave, cool and dim.

"Where are the kids?" he asked, not looking up from whatever brief he was reading.

"Eunice and Sarge have them for the afternoon." You leaned against the doorframe. "All of them. God help them."

That got his attention. He glanced up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "All afternoon?"

"Mmm." You closed the door behind you and turned the lock. "I told them we'd pick them up after dinner."

Bobby set down his pen. "That's a long time."

"I thought you might be hungry." You hadn't brought lunch today.

Bobby stood, pushing his chair back. "I am." He wasn't looking at the telephone now. He was looking at you, and his eyes were sharp and clear. "Come here."

You crossed the room slowly, letting your hips sway. Bobby's office was spacious, but it felt endless in this moment, the walk from door to desk an eternity. When you reached him, he caught your wrist and pulled you close, his other hand finding the small of your back.

"I've missed you," he said, his voice low.

"You've seen me every day this week."

"That's not what I mean."

His mouth found yours, and you melted against him. It had been—what, a week? Two? Since he'd kissed you like this, like he meant it, like he had all the time in the world. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, cupping your face. He tasted like coffee and cigars and Bobby.

"I've been thinking about this all morning," he murmured against your neck. "Since you called and said you were coming by."

"Is that why you had the blinds drawn?" You gasped as his teeth grazed your skin.

"Maybe."

His hands found the buttons of your blouse, undoing them one by one. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, as Bobby's warm hands followed, tracing patterns across your collarbone, down to the lace of your bra.

"Beautiful," he said, and you felt yourself flush. After all these years, all these children, he still looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.

You reached for his tie, loosening it further, pulling it free. His shirt buttons followed, your fingers fumbling in your eagerness. Bobby laughed, a soft, warm sound that made your heart skip.

"Patience," he said, catching your hands. "We have time."

He guided you backward until your legs hit the edge of his desk. With a gentle push, he had you sitting on it, your skirt riding up your thighs. Bobby knelt before you, his hands sliding up your calves, past your knees, to the soft skin of your inner thighs.

"Bobby," you breathed, as his fingers traced the edge of your underwear.

"Hmm?" He looked up at you, all innocence, as if he didn't know exactly what he was doing to you.

"Please."

"Please what?" His thumb brushed against you through the thin fabric, and you bit your lip to keep from moaning.

"You know what."

"I want to hear you say it." His breath was warm against your thigh.

"Touch me," you whispered. "Please, Bobby, touch me."

He smiled, that slow, knowing smile that made your insides turn to liquid. "I am touching you."

His fingers slipped beneath the elastic, teasing, never quite where you needed them. You squirmed, trying to guide him, but he pulled back, tsking.

"So impatient." He pressed a kiss to your knee. "I thought we had all afternoon."

"Bobby, I swear to God—"

He laughed again, and then his mouth was on you, through the fabric, hot and wet. You gasped, your hand flying to his hair, holding him there. But he pulled away again, looking up at you with those blue eyes that could cut through steel.

"Tell me what you want," he said, his voice rough.

"You," you said. "Just you."

He stood, pulling you to your feet. His hands went to your skirt, finding the zipper at the back, letting it fall to the floor. Your blouse followed, then your slip, until you stood before him in nothing but your undergarments.

"Turn around," he said, and you did, feeling his eyes on you. His hands found your hips, guiding you to bend over the desk. Papers scattered, a pen rolled to the floor. Bobby didn't seem to notice or care.

His fingers hooked into your underwear, drawing them down your legs. You stepped out of them, feeling exposed and vulnerable and desperately aroused. Behind you, you heard the sound of his belt, his zipper, the rustle of fabric.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his hand tracing the curve of your spine. "So goddamn beautiful."

You felt him, hard against you, and you pushed back, eager. But Bobby held you still, his hand firm on your hip.

"Not yet," he said. His fingers found you again, slipping inside, making you gasp. "I want you ready for me."

"I am ready," you insisted. "Bobby, please, I need—"

His other hand covered your mouth. "Shh," he whispered in your ear. "You know how loud you get. We don't want the whole Justice Department to hear, do we?"

You shook your head, though the thought sent a thrill through you. Bobby's fingers moved faster, deeper, his thumb circling in just the right way. You moaned against his palm, your hips moving in rhythm with his hand.

"That's it," he murmured. "That's my girl."

You were close, so close, when he withdrew his hand. You whimpered in protest, but then he was there, pushing into you, filling you. Your hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, as Bobby began to move.

He was not gentle. He was never gentle when it had been too long, when the need had built up inside him like a storm. His thrusts were hard, deep, each one driving you against the desk. His hand remained over your mouth, muffling your cries as he took you.

"Christ," he groaned. "You feel so good. So fucking good."

His blasphemy sent another thrill through you—Bobby, who never missed Sunday Mass, taking the Lord's name in vain while buried inside you in his government office. It was deliciously scandalous.

You could only nod, words beyond you now. Bobby's free hand slid around to your front, finding that spot that made you see stars. His fingers moved in tight circles, in time with his thrusts, and you felt yourself tightening around him.

"That's it," he urged. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

The tension built, higher and higher, until it broke in a wave that left you trembling. Bobby's hand pressed harder against your mouth as you cried out, your body clenching around him. He followed a moment later, his rhythm faltering, his breath hot against your neck as he buried himself deep inside you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Bobby's hand slipped from your mouth, coming to rest beside yours on the desk. His weight pressed you down, his chest against your back, his heart pounding in time with yours.

"Jesus," he said finally. "I needed that."

You laughed, breathless. "Me too."

He pulled away slowly, helping you stand. Your legs felt like jelly, and you leaned against him as he turned you in his arms. His kiss was gentle now, tender.

"I'm sorry I've been so busy," he said. "The Castro thing, and the South’s on my back about Mississippi, and Jack keeps calling at all hours—"

You pressed a finger to his lips. "It's alright. I understand."

Bobby smiled, that boyish grin that had made you fall in love with him all those years ago. "We should probably clean up," he said, glancing around at the disheveled office. "Before Margaret comes in and gets the shock of her life."

You laughed, reaching for your clothes. "I don't know. Might do her some good. She's always so uptight."

Bobby swatted your behind as you bent to retrieve your skirt. "Behave."

"Never." You winked at him over your shoulder. "That's why you love me."

He caught you around the waist, pulling you back against him. "One of many reasons," he agreed, his lips finding yours again.

When he finally pulled away, just enough to smirk at you, you murmured, "I should come to work with you more often."

"Please do," he said, and there was that dangerous glint in his eye again. "Next time we'll try the couch. Or maybe against the window."

You arched a brow at him. "Ambitious, are we?"

He laughed, the sound bright and carefree in a way you hadn't heard in weeks. "What? My office is high up. No one can see in."

"That's not the point," you said, but you were laughing too.

The buzzing coming from the intercom on his desk made you both jump.

"Mr. Attorney General," Margaret's voice crackled through the speaker. "Director Hoover is on line one. He says it's urgent."

Bobby closed his eyes, pressing the button to respond. "Tell him I'll call him back in five minutes."

"He says it can't wait, sir."

Bobby sighed. "Tell him I'm discussing important matters with my wife."

There was a pause. "Yes, sir."

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. "You didn't."

"I did." Bobby grinned. "Let him wonder. God knows he's got enough dirt on everyone else in Washington."

"Bobby!"

"What? It's probably true anyway. I'm sure this place is bugged six ways to Sunday." He kissed you again, quick and hard. "Besides, I'm not done with you yet. We've got hours before we have to pick up the kids."

You raised an eyebrow. "Hours? That's ambitious, even for you."

"I'm a very ambitious man," Bobby said, his hands finding your waist again. "Haven't you heard?"

[bobbykennedyswife]

very tempted to write kennedys x reader fanfics but I’m not sure how big the demographic for that is

also don’t know what people would wanna read

hmmmm

[poshfind]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Bobby and Jackie: A Love Story Hardcover Book by C. David Heymann.

[melancholicstation]

YOU’RE SO HANDSOME WHEN I'M ALL OVER YOUR MOUTH! - a JFK and RFK love triangle one-shot.

authors note: this is part one! also can you tell i watched the jfk movie starring patrick demspy as young jfk... cause, mama i am howling at the moon for that man i hate to say it y'know i do! another thing, this is not edited because i actually cannot right now, it will be soon enough! iloveuallx summary: an afternoon in dallas leaves an indelible mark on your relationship with your husband, bobby kennedy, and his brother jack kennedy... you'd be surprised how much can be identified based on one moment of pure, animalistic reflex.

tags: @obsessedwithjohnjr @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123@absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl @strryhaze @beloved-angel

warnings: alternative universe take on the assassination of JFK, mild gore, blood, and violence.

words: 1070

Now you weren't proud to admit this, but you hadn't been entirely truthful to Bobby when it came to just how familiar you were with his older, illness-prone, shit-eating-grin wearing brother Jack.

Well you see, you'd met Jack a long time before you'd met your beloved Bob. A quite long time indeed.

*flashback to Peter Bent Brigham Hospital, Boston 1931*

The Jack you'd met—well his name wasn't even Jack when you'd met him, for some strange reason he adopted an alias named "Dan" whenever you two would converse. You could tell it was a fake, obviously, but you entertained it and by extension him, blinded by the vision of him in a white wife-beater and a fawn penny loafer.

If you were asked, you'd put those psychology books you'd been left to read in 29' to good use and say that he was attempting to distance himself from who he thought people expected a promising son of Joesph Kennedy to be from the disease ridden boy he came to quickly resemble through his child and teenhood.

You'd forever hold dear to your heart the first time you'd laid your sore eyes upon his almost tragic kind of grace and beauty. Jack was never a stellar patient—not like you were, forever you were a quite careful daughter that never did seem to shake that pesky cold that eventually turned into a much graver prognosis for you, par for the course you'd met Jack while he was trying enter back into the hospital after hours—no doubt coming home from God knows what, doing God knows who.

And in doing so, he'd obviosuly over indulged himself and gone far beyond his doctors orders in terms of physical movement. Jack would go on to tell you that he thought his doctor would soon try to put him in a contraption not disimilar to a straight jacket just for him to get some rest.

In a haze of overexertion and clear fatigue Jack accidently mistook your room for his, and no less but climbed into your bed—with you sleeping in it, none the wiser, and the mistake wasn't noticed by you, himself, or his nurses until the morning.

Safe to say you two, unknowingly got decently comfortable with eachother after that. Nothing deviant, purely platonic but a sense of camraderie and friendship had been born that night out of plain happenstance.

By some miracle you'd condition had steadily improved and no sooner than five months are meeting Jack, you were saying goodbye to him all the same. You didn't want him to feel a sense of betrayal due to your leaving so you vowed to eachother to keep in touch through letters—with you promising to entertain him through ink and paper when visitation hours were up for the night.

*end of flashback*

You two would keep that promise to keep in touch until certain life-shaped obstacles got in the way, chief among them being a certain sandy-blonde named Bob Kennedy.

Though you missed Jack and longed to rekindle the camraderie you once shared, you didn't quite expect it to come about like how it did....

After a few months of courtship between you and Bobby, in which you swore you'd never seen a man so dedicated to loving another person in your whole life: and to be on the recieving end of that affection felt euphoric. So, naturally, a spring wedding was to be set, but not before meeting the family.

So in 1949 that's exactly what you did, timidly clutching Bob's hand while trying to make pleasant conversation with the younger of his siblings—of which there were many. One caught your eye. A certain Jack Kennedy, who looked remarkably similar to the addled boy you'd met back in BLANK.

Side stepping what couldve been an awkard moment you both handled it with poise, pretending as if you two had just met for the first time. You didn't mention it to Bobby, i mean really what was there to mention? a six month friendship whom bonded over the lonliness of having a chronic illness? It wouldn't do any modicum of good for anybody. And certaintly not Bobby.

Though you hadn't met his brothers until that day, before Bobby would talk of them as Greek Gods—untouchable beings that he could only hope to be half as divine as. You didn't understand Bobby's habit of denegrating himself to pump up his brothers. To you he was everything he thought his brothers to be. Smart, handsome, charming, and above all indeliably loyal. To a fault sometimes.

No matter how many times you assured him that it was him you wanted, not anyone else. Bobby wasn't a particulary jealous person, pathologically insecure would be a more suitable assessment.

But it was that near medievil dedication to his brother that got you here: getting ready for a texan motocade with the president: who was none other than Bob's brother and your old friend from the infirmary, Jack Kennedy.

You've chosen as simple navy two piece in wool, you'd gotten so cold in your first trimester and hadn't been able to shake it off in the second. You and Bobby were delighted to be granted the utter gift of being parents, having had troubles concieving for the first couple of years into your marriage.

After the reception your hounded by assistants and courtiers into the car, only having time to exchange sincere pleastries with the president and his wife. Despite the years long hiatus in your friendship, you and Jack had mostly picked back up where you left off back in the thirties.

Though the dynamic was different now that you were both married, and with children on the way, it felt good to have a Kennedy-born ally that wasn't your husband.

Before you can say much else, the car's fully on the move, and everyone has their hands up and waving, expressing diplomatic pleastries. The car moves onto Elm Street, and as if out of nowhere your eye focuses in on the most peculiar almost minscule object flying from a nearbywindow, and heading straight for the seat holding the your old friend, and the president of the united states.

And out of a kind of pure, subhuman instinct, in disalignment with any kind of common sense you believed you had ever possessed in all your life, you move to shield his body with yours and—*BANG*

end of part one.

[h-l-v-kennedy-blog]

h-l-v-kennedy-blog masterlist

《 Robert F. Kennedy 》

Series:

Unexpected (how a punch can turn into a meet-cute),

Snippet: Unthinkable (how hard it is to call someone)

Unthinkable (how hard is it to call someone)

Unadvised (getting so close to someone so quickly)

Aesthetics: Ava and Bobby in the late '50s,

----

♡ Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis♡

Oneshots:

Jackie's girl - an escape to New York with a close personal assistant.

----

◇ John F. Kennedy ◇

Series:

(jfk x childhood friend!oc): Save me, Sabrina Fair - By the Shores of Cape Cod (masterpost with chapters, moodboards etc)

-

(jfk x danish royal!oc): "the night we met" 1- isn't lovely? all alone,

2 - i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.,

3 - Every night, I'm dancing with your ghost. Never got the chance. To say a last goodbye.

4 - I tried to scream. But my head was underwater

Aesthetics: 1/2, 2/2.

-

(jfk x doctor!oc) "mariage de convenance" (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7...)

----

All my stories are readable on Ao3. (links show less chapters than there are, but on the site there are all chapters written so far)

[alexesguerra]

Spiritual Anatomy: Meditation, Chakras, and the Journey to the Center Spiritual Anatomy: Meditation, Chakras, and the Journey to the Center Contributor(s): Patel, Kamlesh D (Author) Publisher: Balance ISBN: 1538740958 Physical Info: 1.0" H x 8.3" L x 5.3" W (0.8 lbs) 288 pages Kamlesh D. Patel, affectionately known as Daaji, has been the global guide for the heartfulness movement since 2014. Daaji is the spiritual leader of Shri Ram Chandra, a meditation organization with practitioners in over 150 countries. He is also fourth in line of raja yoga (which is known as "royal yoga"). His followers include the president of India, Ram Nath Kovind. He is the author of numerous books, including USA Today Bestseller Heartfulness Way (New Harbinger, 2018) and Designing Destiny (Hay House, 2019). While balancing his spiritual journey, Daaji was also a successful pharmacist in New York City, and is married with two sons. Review Quotes: "Exceptional... Spiritual Anatomy blends the wisdom of yogic philosophy with practical techniques to unlock your infinite potential."-- Deepak Chopra, New York Times bestselling author of Quantum Body Review Quotes: "The challenge for so many of us is how to achieve our purpose in the face of modern life. Through Spiritual Anatomy, Daaji offers us the path to take our fragmented lives and integrate them to achieve our highest potential. He reminds us also that the path to elevated consciousness is always through the heart."-- James R. Doty, MD, Professor of Neurosurgery at Stanford University School of Medicine and bestselling author of Into the Magic Shop Review Quotes: "Using awareness and meditation as a tool for health, Daaji's work brings a most valuable heart into the field of healing science. Daaji gifts readers an important resource for traversing personal transformation."-- Sharon Salzberg, New York Times bestselling author of Lovingkindness and Real Life Review Quotes: "Daaji offers a profound road map and guide, as Spiritual Anatomy reveals our opportunity to actively engage the chakras in our spiritual journey."-- Lisa Miller, PhD, Columbia professor and New York Times bestselling author of The Spiritual Child and The Awakened Brain Review Quotes: " Spiritual Anatomy goes right to the heart of what we are all seeking. Daaji shows us how to go in and through the body, guiding our energy centers to fulfill our deepest desires for connection, love and purpose, reminding us who we are."-- Tara Stiles, Co-Founder of Strala Yoga and bestselling author of Yoga Cure Review Quotes: "In Spiritual Anatomy Daaji has given us the amazing gift of an easy-to-follow roadmap for connecting with our deepest sense of self, purpose, and spiritual awareness." -- Dr. Rudolph E. Tanzi, New York Times Best Selling Co-author of The Healing Self, Joseph. P. and Rose F. Kennedy Professor of Neurology, Harvard Medical School, Director, Genetics and Aging Research Unit, Massachusetts General Hospital Review Quotes: "Utterly charming, and eminently useful."-- Robert Thurman, Ph.D., Columbia Professor Emeritus and author of Man of Peace and Wisdom Is Bliss Review Quotes: " Spiritual Anatomy reveals the innermost dimensions of our embodied being, that are simultaneously the sources within our body of insight and joy; the radiance of the fully awakened Heart, in conscious and intimate communion with life's infinitely unfolding potential."-- Ian A. Baker, PhD, National Geographic 'Explorer for the Millennium'; author of The Heart of the World and Tibetan Yoga: Principles and Practices Review Quotes: "Daaji is one of the great spiritual leaders of our time. Spiritual Anatomy will not only heal individuals and nurture their flourishing, but can bring a great convalescence to the civilizations of our troubled world." -- Dr. Clancy Martin, Professor of Philosophy at the University of Missouri in Kansas City and Ashoka University in New Delhi and author of How to Not Kill Yourself: A Portrait of the Suicidal Mind Publisher Marketing: USA TODAY Bestseller​. "Exceptional... Spiritual Anatomy blends the wisdom of yogic philosophy with practical techniques to unlock your infinite potential." -- Deepak Chopra, New York Times bestselling author of Quantum Body From the internationally bestselling author of The Heartfulness Way comes a journey to the center of our consciousness, mapping a path for you to connect to your highest self through Heartfulness meditation and guided chakra practices. When we think of wellbeing, we often think of our physical and mental health--tending to our bodies and minds to find peace, purpose, and connection in our lives. But as Kamlesh D. Patel (affectionately known as Daaji), spiritual leader of the Heartfulness Organization and fourth in line to the raja yoga tradition illuminates, there is a third system we too often overlook: The Spiritual Anatomy. Acting as a sort of atlas for consciousness, the chakras--the centers of spiritual energy that comprise our spiritual anatomy--lead us back to our hearts, ourselves, and the sustainable happiness and meaning we crave. Along the way readers will learn: The role and importance of the chakras What blocks our chakras and how to clean them Meditation techniques that bring you closer to the heart's center How connecting deeply with our chakras can open our hearts, minds, and souls As grounding as it is groundbreaking, Spiritual Anatomy is a must-read for seekers, meditators, and anyone who wants to cultivate joy in their life.

[misspearly1]

Millers Retreat

Chapter Three

Chp1 || Chp2 || Chp3 || Chp4 || Chp 5 ||

Pairing: Joel Miller x Y/N (f!reader)

WC: 4k

Warnings: Not a whole lot for warnings. A little bit of Fluff. Definitely angsty vibes & dark themes surrounding the story to 'Bobby' which in turn makes the Miller's a little sad. There's not a whole lot mention Y/N in thus one peeps, more focus on The Miller brothers.

AN: Okay, in regards to the warnings above, this fic is practically a look into the work that Tommy and Joel are doing, it's not all doom and gloom, the angsty stuff is towards the end. I promise we will get to all of the fluffy/smutty parts in the next chapter. Hope you enjoy, my lovelies <33

It’s currently day three into Joel’s and Tommy’s ‘fishing trip’, their last day, and the work still continues, but let’s look back at what they’ve accomplished so far.

Day One

On the first day, it took the brothers a lot longer than they anticipated to get the thick green vines off the two stationary homes properly, even then, the dug well and the surrounding area was heavily covered too, so that took up even more of their time.

Tommy had come across an old newspaper clipping inside the overgrowth, dated back twenty years ago with the heading of ‘Evacuation Procedures Now Underway; death toll in the thousands.’

The brothers looked at that clipping and remembered that some towns and cities got a heads up before the virus hit, unfortunately most didn’t. And it seems as though the town nearby got that heads up and considering Bobby had the newspaper clipping here, Joel wondered if the man left with his family when it was advised.

This place certainly looked like someone had left in a hurry, or as if a storm of infected had blown through it. Pocketing that clipping along with the postcard that he found on the tree, Joel and Tommy shoved their thoughts aside for now and got back to work.

After they had hacked away at every possible blockage covering the caravans, the older Miller put on his garden gloves and began piling it all up to be discarded, grabbing handfuls in his hands and transporting it to a large pile just outside of camp.

As the area around the caravans started to become clearer, he noticed something else under one of them. It was a book, a journal. Pulling it out and reading the cover, Robert Kennedy, the diary belonged to none other than Bobby himself.

Joel didn’t bother opening it up to read the contents inside, but he didn’t throw it away either, instead, he left it to one side to maybe read later and got back to work again. Once his task at hand was dealt with, they both moved on to thoroughly searching all four caravans, to gather up everything that is useful.

One of the caravans that was under the ivy was locked tight and the brothers couldn’t get it open. It was nearing midnight and they left it for now, deciding that they would come back to it the next day.

They both felt accomplished for all the work they had done today, especially after seeing all the difference they have made. Today, they had found three artefacts of information about Bobby and this caravan site, cleared up all the ivy and rubbish in the camp, uncovered the water well, which was sealed, and the place was looking a hell of a lot better since this morning.

So, at eleven pm at night, Tommy and Joel finally sat down after tending to the horses.

Joel did end up getting that chair from Tommy. He sat on it, feet kicked up on the table with a smug smirk to his face and a small fire in the middle of camp. They were tired and hungry, exhausted after the day's activities but it could either only get worse or easier from this point onwards.

Tommy grabbed the bubbling pot from the fire over to where his brother was sitting, he had cooked some tinned meaty soups, quick and easy to whip up and eat along with a few cut up slices of bread that he brought from home.

They both ate in silence, underestimating how hungry they actually are and while soup can sometimes be boring, this soup tasted delicious. After they ate, Joel grabbed his walkie to have a quick goodnight call with his girl, Y/N.

“Baby, it’s me Joel. Are you awake?” He started off the conversation, standing up from his chair and patting his brother on the shoulder to say goodnight then headed into one of the only two habitable caravans in camp.

“Hey, love, yeah I am. Barely, but I’m awake,” her voice croaked through the walkie tiredly after a few moments. Joel didn’t mean to leave it so late at night, he and his brother got carried away with the work, wanting to get a huge chunk done on their first day.

“I’m sorry, girl, I didn’t wake you up did I?” He plopped down on the edge of the bed, kicking off his shoes and tossing himself back with a wide smile across his face. It was comfy and her voice was homey to his ears. Joel missed Y/N at that moment and he expressed that to her in between a yawn, “I’m laying down right now, wish you were here with me darlin.”

There was a couple seconds that passed before she came back through the walkie, giggling, “You made me yawn too, but no, you didn’t wake me,” Joel smiled on this side, waiting for her to reposition herself in bed after clearly hearing her shuffle around in the sheets, “I miss you too, handsome. How’s it going out there?”

Doing the same thing as Y/N, Joel repositioned himself in his bed and got under the covers, wishing that he could tell her exactly how things are going out here, but he lied again, “Really good. We caught some steelhead and ate it tonight for dinner. How’s things over there?” He tried to steer the topic of conversation.

Y/N, as well as Joel, was in a position of wanting to tell the truth, but she made a promise to Maria not to say anything yet about Tommy, and she lied too, “The usual, baby. Tea with Maria this morning, I cleared up some of the weeds from the garden and fed the plants,” Joel listened to her voice trailing off about all the things she has done today, making him miss home that much more.

Bringing his hand up behind his head, he rested the walkie on his chest with closed eyes, smiling whilst picturing her face telling him all of this. She finished off with a question, asking Joel if he is staying safe out here, to which he replied saying, “Always, babydoll.”

They chatted more over the radio, sinking further into the mattress and warming up under the covers, until Y/N yawned again and Joel looked at his watch, seeing as the time was nearing one am now, he suggested that they get themselves to sleep.

It took a further half hour for either of them to finish up the call, not wanting to be the last one to say goodnight and after setting the walkie down by his side, he thought that the conversation was over with, but his lady wanted to have the last say and her sweet voice crackled through, whispering, “I love you, Joel Miller.”

He chuckled to himself, mumbling into the covers that he loves her too and turned over to get some sleep. If he picked up that walkie, they wouldn’t ever get off the call, he knows that as well as her.

Day Two

On day two of their trip, Joel and Tommy started their day with bagging up all of the rubbish that was left in a pile at the side of camp and taking it far enough away. Just a quick fix for now, but they do need to find a solid way to rid the rubbish properly for future vacations.

It was roughly a fifteen minute walk outside of camp that they took, coming across a spot to lay out the piles of rubbish that they were dragging along, it was a large clearing inside the thick canopy of trees, and as the men came to a stop, they thought the wave-like sound was from the wind blowing, but it wasn’t. It was water.

Leaving the rubbish where they stood, Joel and Tommy followed the sounds until they came across a river but that wasn’t all they found. The brothers were overjoyed to also find a waterfall. They’ve uncovered another water source, a place to bathe and a place to have fun.

Making the most out of this discovery, the two of them decided to take a dip. They could only clean themselves with a rag and some bottled water yesterday, so today, they’re going to take a bath in the river and get themselves thoroughly cleaned.

After they were stripped down to just their underwear, they quickly headed inside the water and laughed when the other one hooted with the cool temperature.

It was cold at first and Tommy yowled boisterously, eliciting his older brother to laugh at him, but he too found it cold and he thought that the best option was to yell out childishly before throwing himself under completely.

With the sun at its peak in the sky above, it took seconds for either of them to feel the warmth and soon, the chill was gone. Joel popped up from the surface, looking up to the top of the waterfall and wondering if the water was deep enough below to jump in.

Swimming up the river and checking it out for himself, he dove back under the surface and swam below the riverbed. Joel couldn’t even see the bottom, he swam and swam until he finally felt the rocks, and he estimated it to be around fifteen to twenty foot deep.

Coming back up again, he could hear Tommy yelling for him and he hurriedly yelled back, “I’m ok. Just checking how deep.”

“Deep enough to jump off?” The younger man asked, to which his elder brother replied, “yeah, it’s deep enough.”

Swimming back down to his original position, Joel and Tommy indulged in the water for five more minutes, before getting back out and sitting on the side, using the heat and the light of the sun trickling through the trees to dry them off.

They should have brought towels, but they didn’t even contemplate on finding a river out here, either way, it didn’t take them long to dry off as they chatted together in the sunlight.

“This is great, isn’t it? Maria, Ellie and Y/N are gonna love it,” Tommy chirped, while shaking his head like a shaggy dog, droplets splashing everywhere from his blonde long hair.

He reminisced about all the times he used to do this stuff when he was younger with Joel. The memories that they made together. It makes Tommy giddy to make more with his wife, with his brother and his daughter, and maybe even some kids of his own one day.

Getting ahead of himself, he thought about some of the things he could add to this place too, some more tables and chairs, maybe built a little hut of some sort for his family to get dried and dressed properly and privately, with towels.

Joel smiled after seeing his brother clearly in a happy train of thought. He watched the water roll up the side of the riverbank in which he sat upon and nodded to Tommy, “yeah. They’re going to love this place.”

After a couple moments of silence, both brothers just enjoying the comforting peace of nature, Joel stood and grabbed his clothes that were draped over a branch, “They’re going to love it when it’s done, so let's get back to it, bro.”

Taking a mental note of this location and how to find it to himself, Joel began getting himself dressed and Tommy did the same. They headed back to camp and got back to work. Cutting down trees with the chainsaw and then cutting them into smaller pieces after that.

They are going to use this wood in the future for fires or crafting new tables and chairs, mostly for now it’s just clearing the place up and making it look new. That task alone took them well into the evening.

Those trees weren’t so little and the brothers had to be safe about it too of course. When he was satisfied that they had enough wood and had cut down enough trees, Joel started clearing away all of the remaining debris from the dug well.

Thankfully the cover was still placed over the top, otherwise it would be contaminated by now after twenty years. It needed to be cleaned off with water before they opened it, so Joel and his brother had to unravel the bucket from the rope and use it to collect water from the river.

They remembered finding a couple large empty canisters from searching the caravans yesterday, so they grabbed them as well. Finding two long sticks with some rope, they attached the canisters to each of them, along with the single bucket to make it easy when carrying back.

That took some time to do, Joel’s body aches with hard labour, he hasn’t worked this much since his younger days alongside Tommy on the construction site. He liked it. It felt productive and purposeful, but boy did he feel his age.

Secretly, he felt better knowing that Tommy was feeling his age too. He may be the eldest but he ain’t the only old guy here either. Just as if the young man knew what he was thinking about, Tommy shook his head and tutted, “I know. I gotta stay in shape.”

Joel, once again, found himself laughing and bonding some more over this project with his brother.

When they got back to camp, Tommy took half of the water they retrieved to the fire to boil while Joel grabbed some of the cleaning items. With a brush held in hand, he swept away all of the dirt and grime on the outside of the well.

The brick was stained green, which shouldn’t cause much of a problem, but still, he wanted to clean everything just to be sure. It was dusty as hell, covered in green soot that caused him to sneeze a couple times too.

When the water was boiled, Tommy brought it over and used the clean water to wipe everything down. Now that that was out of the way, the both of them started sliding the concrete top off halfway. Joel was thrilled and even a little surprised to see water inside.

Using the remaining water from the canisters that they collected, they used hot water, bleach and scrubbers to clean the caravans thoroughly. Leaving the one that was locked to last, which they still need to get round to opening.

By the time the two men came to that particular caravan to clean - after cleaning the outside and inside of the other three - dark skies had already rolled in but they wanted to try and get it open before calling it a night just yet.

Tommy climbed up on the side to reach the latch for the sunroof but as soon as he peered through the foggy window, the man slung himself back with a fright, “Joel, someone is in there!”

“What?!” Joel fretted. Climbing up the side of the caravan just like Tommy did, he came up beside him and wiped away the dust with a rag. Looking inside, he grimaced and held a hand onto his stomach, “he’s dead. Whoever it is, they’re dead.”

Turning around and looking at his brother, Joel shook his head, “Don’t open this thing up, I think that’s Bobby in there.” The older Miller didn’t want to disturb this caravan, as it is in fact, a tombstone.

Jumping back down to the ground below, Tommy had an inkling to look around for something, maybe another clue to tell them that the corpse lying in the bed inside, is in fact Robert Kennedy.

“Joel, c’mere,” He called out to his brother after walking around the back and holding a flashlight up to the writing that was written along the side.

Tommy felt sick with grief, almost too much grief when Joel came round and read the words out loud, “I’m sorry to whoever finds me like this, I couldn’t wait for their return any longer. To Jenny and my kids, I love you in this life and the next.”

That corpse inside the caravan is Bobby, and his family never made it to their six week vacation, probably didn’t even make it to the airport.

Day 3

That brings us to now. On their third and final day of their restoration project.

After they found Bobby in the caravan last night, both of the men felt too unsettled to carry on with their work at that moment. They needed to take care of him, respectfully.

Taking themselves to bed, Joel only had a quick chat with his lady compared to the night before and after he said goodnight, and that he loves her, he turned over to get some shut eye. Their sleep in the caravan last night was emotionally uncomfortable.

The silence was relaxing, just an occasional bird here or there making its call but the notion of knowing what is sitting beside them just a couple feet away was eerie and depressing. Joel needed to move that caravan away from camp, but he wanted to be respectful to Bobby.

Today is their last day to get as much done as they possibly can before making their way home in the early hours of the morning tomorrow. Three nights is all they could buy themselves and it’s time to get back home to their families.

Waking up extra early today at five am, Joel left Tommy in bed for a little bit longer while he went outside to see what was left to do for the day, but instead, he took a seat at the table after making himself a cup of coffee and decided to read Bobby’s journal, to better understand the fellow.

He smiled and even laughed at some points from what the man wrote. Telling the tale of the happiest events in life with his wife and children. There were pictures too. Joel saw what Bobby looked like and he could feel the joy he held through a simple photograph.

Dark haired, dark beard, small and stocky, the man wore the biggest smile Joel has ever seen. He was standing beside his wife, presumably Jenny, and two young kids. One girl and one boy.

Jenny had red hair, fair skin tone with visible freckles, her smile just as big as her husbands, the kids just the same. All of them looked like your typical happy family and Joel could feel the love they had when looking at each of their faces.

Flicking over to the next page, he came across Bobby’s entries days before the outbreak.

~ 09.15.13 - I've just got here, at the campsite and I’m so excited. I can’t wait for the kids to arrive and see it too. I miss my Jenny a lot but she’s up in Colorado at the moment to bring her parents down here too. Let’s get this place set up for them.

Joel’s eyebrows rose with surprise when reading the first passage, poor Bobby only wanted to rent this place out for the summer for his family and decided to come out early to get it prepared while his wife retrieved her parents.

The man wouldn’t have imagined that the world would come to an end not even then days after. Curiosity pulled on Joel to read more, to learn how Bobby’s fate came to be.

~ 09.20.13 - This place is amazing, there's a waterfall nearby and the kids are coming out in six days, so that’s the first place I’m taking them. I got a postcard from Jenny today, the date is set, the 26th is when they fly out here. I paid for the deluxe package, not realizing that it comes with four caravans. Maybe I’ll let the kids have one each. Maybe.

There’s an ache in Joel’s chest while reading. He envisions Bobby through his words. The man sounded like a great father, a great husband and great son in law who only wanted the best for his family.

~ 09.21.13 - I went into town today, more and more people seem to be leaving because of this virus that’s hit the eastern seaboard of America. Hm weird. I should call Jenny and see if her flight is still good to go just in case.

~ 09.21.13 - Update, I called her, flights are all good.

Joel takes the newspaper clipping out of his pocket and looks at the date written on the bottom, it states, 09.23.13. Two days after this passage Bobby had put into his journal, which has a sizable gap until his next. He flicked over to the next page and the date that was written, surprised Joel. Bobby hadn’t written in almost two years.

~ 09.26.15 - I haven’t seen this journal since I last wrote in it, two years ago, and what a two years it has been. My family never arrived. The day of their flight, was the day the world ended, the day my world ended. I left camp as soon as I heard on the radio that people were being evacuated and I went straight for the airport, to try and get home. Everything was locked down. Jenny wasn’t picking up her phone. So I drove. I drove home, but my home wasn’t there anymore - my family wasn't there. Now two years on, I still can’t find them. I have been searching everyday and found my way back to this place. I don’t know why but I just kinda feel them here with me.

Joel had found himself hunched over, head practically in the book reading Bobby’s words. This is someone's life, yet it feels like a novel, like it simply cannot be real, but it is. Joel has seen these things in his life and he has lived through this man's loss.

His heart aches for Bobby, and for himself, but he must read on, to find out what had happened to him.

~ 12.25.15 - It’s Christmas today and I got stumbling down drunk before the sun came up. Why the fuck not? It’s not that I give a shit about what happens to me anymore. So fuck it. Let’s get drunk.

-

I’ve been staying in one of the caravans, trying to live I guess but I can’t go into the others, they were for my family. I can't handle the pain so I’m going to have a drink instead.

-

Where are they?

-

Why can’t I find them?

-

I can’t do this anymore.

-

Joel read every entry, each without dates, and slowly saw this man losing his mind. Totally overwhelmed with the loss of his family, which he understands. The next entry that Joel read from Bobby, was his last.

~ 09.26.16 - It’s been three years since I last saw my family alive, since I last kissed my wife and kids on the forehead. Three years marks the day that the world ended and took the people that I love most with it. If this journal finds anyone then this is my last message. I want to be with my family. Is it wrong for a father to want to be with his kids? A husband to be with his wife?

This camp was meant for a family and there is none here. Goodbye.

Joel stared down at the words on the page, a gut wrenching ache sitting in his stomach, transporting him back to those days that he lost Sarah. Bobby lost his whole world, and Joel feels that.

He didn’t know at what point his breathing became erratic during his daze, but a hand clamping down onto his shoulder pulled him from it.

Tommy took the book from him and pulled Joel in for a hug. Clasping his hand to the back of his head and holding him tight, the young man hugged his elder brother and assured him without words.

It was raw, emotional and needed. Very much needed, Joel appreciated the embrace - more than Tommy would ever know.

Tagging

Permanent Taglist (All story Updates): @marydjarin @kirsteng42 @supernaturalgirl @supernaturalgirl20

All Joel Content: @extraneous-trip @readsalot73 @luvmeijii @pale-gingerale @joelsflannel @something-tofightfor @dinsangelx @ponyofmilfmom @hb8301 @squidwell @spideysimpossiblegirl @mooraakath @michele131 @chxpsi @joelmillerscoffee @zeida @wordsfromshona @joelsrifle @swtaura