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ragingbookdragon · 1 year ago

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I Do My Hair Toss, Paint My Nails

Bayverse Transformers x Reader Blurbs

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I fucking wrote TF fanfiction omg. Enjoy! -Thorne

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Ironhide:

It’s only the fourth glance she takes out the window that has her nail tech snorting. “Are you worried someone is going to steal your boyfriend’s truck?”

She startles at his words, barely missing the drill bit going into her skin around her nail as she replies, “Huh?”

“You keep looking at the truck,” he says. “It’s your boyfriend’s, isn’t it?”

Her cheeks begin to warm as she swipes a fifth glance at the black GMC. “What makes you say it’s my boyfriend’s? It could be mine.”

“Please. You work in private security. And I know you drive a pink Porsche.” He takes his own look at the truck. “It’s a nice one. It is your boyfriend’s, right?”

“Something like that,” she replies as he dips the brush into the acrylic and begins to lay it over her nails.

He snorts again. “Okay, Miss Mysterious, keep it secret.”

She gives a smile as he continues to work on her nails and she admires them when they’re done, a sleek black stiletto. “Thank you, Ray.”

Giving a mock bow, he replies, “I do my best. Now off with you.”

Waving, she steps outside and nears the driver’s side of the truck, only to be caught off by a sports car slowing to a stop beside her.

“Hey baby,” the man greets, practically hanging outside of the window. “Where you headed?”

She blinks, offering a deadened stare and grips the door handle. “Nowhere you are. Have a nice day.”

“Now don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he replies with a smirk and starts to get out, but he stops when the truck rumbles with a violent noise. “What the fuck?”

“Easy, Ironhide,” she murmurs, and opens the driver’s door. “Have a lovely day.” Shutting and locking the door, she’s thankful that Ironhide’s windows are tinted and watches as the car pulls away in a hurry.

“You okay?” Ironhide asks. “I can always blast their tailpipe in.”

She laughs. “Thank you, but I think they got the message.”

“Hmm, I disagree, but I’ll take your word for it,” his voice hums through his speakers as he pulls off onto the street. “What did you do in there? You were gone for an hour and a half.”

“Oh, I got my nails painted!” she chirps and flashes her hands down. “See, I painted them black like your paint.”

This time, Ironhide rumbles but it’s with a subtle pride as he compliments, “As beautiful as my weapons, love.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and leans forward, pressing her lips to the center of the steering wheel. “How about we take a drive out of the city?”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” he replies and turns off to the main highway pointing out of the city.

***

Rachet:

“I do not understand the process of painting your nails,” Rachet comments as he watches her gently apply a mustard yellow to her nails.

“Which part don’t you understand, big guy?” she replies, not looking up, focusing intently.

“Perhaps it is more so I don’t understand why.”

“Why?”

He nods and gets closer, staring at her hands. “Why are you painting them?”

She looks up at him. “Why me specifically or why do humans paint nails?”

Rachet takes a moment to ponder her question. “Both.”

Sticking her hand under the small gel light, she answers, “Most people paint their nails as a form of self-expression. Others do so as it’s fashionable. Some just do manicures and pedicures to stay groomed. Think of it like you and the others maintaining your own bodies and staying in good condition.” She starts on the other hand when the first is cured. “Some cultures have historic context with painting nails or the length of nails and it’s symbolic to their people.”

“And what of you?” he asks.

“I guess mine is more so expression and maintenance. I work a lot so I can’t always have my nails maintained the way I want, y’know painted and with length. But I always try to keep them clean and nice looking.” She smiles as she paints a red line through them. “Sometimes I’m lucky enough that I get to paint them pretty.”

At that, Rachet tips his head a bit to see. “I’m no human but I do not think red and yellow are technically considered ‘pretty.’”

She gives him a fond look and pokes his nose with her cured pointer. “Really? Because I painted them to look like a similar Autobot I know. Or did you forget you’re red and yellow?”

He coughs slightly and looks away. “Well, now that you mention such a thing.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re flustered, Rachet.”

“Nonsense,” he retorts as he stands up straight, and she has to crane her neck to see him. “Autobots don’t get flustered.”

“I think you’re leaking oil, big guy,” she teases, and he turns hurriedly, patting himself down.

“What! Where!”

“I’m joking,” she says with a grin. “Still set on not being embarrassed?”

***

Bumblebee:

She sits at the station next to Bumblebee as he fumbles with the metal Rubik’s cube she had made for him. “What color should I paint my nails, Bee?” she asks, opening the case, and she really shouldn’t be painting her nails at work, but considering most of the higher ups are in meetings and the facility is a ghost town, she doesn’t have much to do.

Bumblebee looks down, optics zooming in on each color she lifts up for him to see.

“I’ve got blue…red…black…ooo, what about green?” she offers a deep evergreen up and he scowls and shakes his head. “No?”

He sticks a finger into the case and carefully digs around until he pulls out a tiny tube and hands it to her.

“This one?” she asks and looks at the bottle. “Sunrise Yellow,” she says and looks at him. “It matches you.”

This time he gives her a smile of pride and hands her the black bottle as well, gesturing to her middle and ring fingers.

“You want these ones painted black and the others yellow?”

“Yeah baby!” the line from a comedy movie comes over his voice and she snorts.

“Okay, Bee,” she answers and opens the bottles. “Nails that look like you coming up.” she watches as he grins to himself and dances slightly. “You keep it up, Bee, and everyone is going to know you like me.” She pauses and looks at her hands with a deadpan stare. “Actually, they’re going to think I like you.”

He bends down and gets face to face with her. “You do like me.” The words are easy enough to decipher in his rumbles and she looks away.

“Get outta heeya,” she mocks with warm cheeks, and he laughs at her. “Hey, you better stop laughing at me, or do you not remember how you practically tripped over yourself when I wore a dress the other day and you weren’t paying attention. Ran right into the high-beam and maintenance is still working on fixing it.”

At that, his battle visors come down and he hides his face as embarrassed rumbles escape him; she takes the opportunity to slide up onto his leg and sit with a smile as she paints her nails.

***

Optimus:

She greets the soldiers around her with a smile as she enters the facility and wanders back to her desk to set her things down. It’s only a few moments before Lennox finds his way to her desk and simply stands in front of it until she looks up. “Good morning, Will.”

“You’re late,” he retorts and crosses his arms over his chest. “We had training this morning. And you missed it.”

“And I think you forget I was transferred to private security.” She smiles amusedly. “I don’t work for the military anymore.”

He rolls his eyes. “Jesus, you get out and you turn into a completely different person.”

“I am not. Excuse me for enjoying not waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to go running.” She turns on her computer and sorts some paperwork on her desk. “I had an appointment if it appeases your annoyance, your royal eminence.”

“Oh, it’s not me that needs to be appeased. It’s a certain Autobot that was worried about your lateness,” he teases as she feels her cheeks heat up.

She gives him a surprised but pleasant look. “Optimus was worried about me?”

She knows she’s said too much when Lennox’s face splits into a smirk and he gloats, “I fuckin’ knew it was Optimus. Epps thought it was Sideswipe.” His grins grows as she throws her pen at him and he saunters off with, “Guys owe me fifty.”

A few minutes pass as the embarrassment begins to fade when a noise startles her and she lets out a groan and gripes, “William, go awa—Optimus!” she hides her files on her desk as if it will take away the fluster she feels. “I—I didn’t know you were there.”

The Autobot leader bends down to get level with her. “You weren’t at training this morning,” he notes, and she can’t help how her neck disappears into her shoulders.

“I was busy…I had an appointment.”

“Oh?” He blinks, blue optics watching her carefully. “Was it a medical appointment? Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” she replies. “I went to go get my nails done.”

He blinks again, this time almost confused as he asks, “Your…nails?”

She shows her hands, and he lowers his, gently taking both of hers in one; they only rest on one finger as he examines them. “In human culture, men and women paint their finger and toenails different colors. It’s called manicure and pedicure. I have acrylic nails. Made from acrylic glass and hardened with a liquid monomer. It creates a hardened surface that can be drilled and painted. Like mine.”

Optimus looks them over before he murmurs almost uncharacteristically quiet, “They are painted like my paint.”

Her cheeks warm and she looks away. “I…know we can’t exactly be open…people wouldn’t understand but…I just thought it would be a romantic gesture I guess.”

“I am honored,” he says with a smile. “They are painted beautifully…like you.”

“Optimus,” she replies with a warm smile. “Thank you.”

#transformers bayverse #bayverse transformers #ironhide #rachet #bumblebee #optimus prime #optimus #ironhide x reader #rachet x reader #bumblebee x reader #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #transformers x reader #transformers

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twiceinadream · 2 years ago

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“A More…Hands On Experience.”

Requested: Nope

Prompt: G!P Fem! S/O is a pool cleaner, Jihyo is a very attractive woman who asks S/O to rub oil on her.

a/u: Hey everyone! I’m back with a new fic that I hope you all enjoy. I can’t believe it’s already been 4 years since I started writing on Tumblr and I don’t have any plans on stopping in the near future! I want to thank you all for continued love and support after all these years. I love you guys!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

The sun shone brightly over Guri, leaving the town in a beautiful glow. The air held a cool breeze and the warmth from the sun was just enough to heat the skin, more-or-less the day was pretty perfect.

You smiled to yourself as you hummed the last song you had heard on the radio under your breath. You were in good spirits, the weather was great, and you were on to the first client of the day. The house was very beautiful and you couldn’t help but marvel at all of the intricate botany.

The house itself looked quite modern as you walked up the little step to knock. It gave a hollow sound as you waited patiently, one of your hands in your pocket. It didn’t take long before you heard a faint, “Hold on, I’m coming!” From inside the house, the door was opened by the most beautiful woman you had ever seen and her attire - or lack there of - made your mouth go dry, “Hi, may I help you?”

You felt like your eyes were gonna pop out of your skull before you quickly shook your head and cleared your throat, recovering your professional demeanor, “Hi, yes, Miss Park?” The woman nodded and it finally clicked that your client was the Park Jihyo, “Hi, I’m Y/N from Palace Pool Cleaners. We have you scheduled for a pool cleaning this morning.”

It took all of your willpower to not look down since the woman before you was the subject of a very long standing crush and she was currently dressed in a very revealing bikini that was barely covered by a white dress shirt. “Oh goodness, you’re right. My apologies, it completely slipped my mind. I was actually about to lounge by the pool myself, it won’t interfere with your work will it?”

You shook your head, it wasn’t uncommon for clients to be out while you worked. Guaranteed most of your clients weren’t insanely attractive women who had been the object of your affection, but you needed to keep this professional. You couldn’t risk losing your job over a stupid crush, “Not at all, Miss Park. Depending on how much debris is in the pool and all the other little nuances I need to check up on for maintenance reasons. I should be out of here in two hours.”

The brunette smiled as she looked you up and down, you couldn’t help but stiffen your stance slightly as you flexed. Secretly hoping to attract such a gorgeous woman - you were only human after all. “Take all the time you need.”

With that, you gave a curt nod to not embarrass yourself any further, “Thank you, let me grab my supplies from the truck and I’ll get started. Is there a side gate I could use to access the backyard so I’m not lugging everything through your house?”

“Yeah, it’s to the right of the garage there’s a gate, it unlocks from the back so just reach over and it leads straight to the pool.” You nodded in thanks as you turned to leave. “One more thing,” you turned back around to see that the dress shirt had fallen down one of Jihyo’s shoulders and was now exposing a good amount of her cleavage that you fought not to gawk at, “you’re new aren’t you?” You nodded as you responded with a ‘yes’, making the brunette giggle, “I just wanted to say you are a lot easier on the eyes than my last pool cleaner.” You could barely believe your ears as Jihyo left you with a wink and disappeared back into her house.

How strange.

You finally let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as Jihyo closed the door, the front of your shorts felt uncomfortably tight as you turned to go back to your truck and grab the supplies you needed. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, ‘Fucking shit. I feel like I’m living in a bad porno.’

Once you had gathered everything you needed to get started with the cleaning you made your way to the backyard, through the gate that Jihyo had mentioned before and you almost stopped in your tracks at the sight. The brunette was propped up on a sun bed, sunglasses on her face and the white button down discarded. Revealing her large breasts that were barely contained by the straining fabric of her brown bikini top and the tiny bottom part that left nothing to the imagination that barely covered the woman’s slit.

You could faintly see the marks of an old tan line that she was probably working on getting rid of. Jihyo didn’t seem to pay any attention to you as you went to work as usual. you set your supplies down a little ways from the edge of the pool as you began assembling the pool skimmer. Screwing together the poll and attaching the net to the end as you dipped it onto the surface of the water and began collecting the stray leaves and occasional bug.

You hummed to yourself as you got lost in the monotony of your work - it wasn’t that you hated your job, you actually loved it, it was just simple and didn’t require much thinking after enough repetitions. The pool was a fairly decent size but wasn’t large enough that it took too much effort to get through. After you had skimmed the entirety of the pool you emptied the net into a trash bag you set off to the side and picked up the pool vacuum you had brought with you.

Thankfully, this pool didn’t have an algae problem as the low hum of the motor whirred to life as you plunged it beneath the surface and once again started your methodical walk around the pool’s edge. Making sure to cover every square inch so you wouldn’t have to do it over. The sun began to beat down, the temperature had risen to 86°F (30°C) and without the coverage of clouds or a breeze, you were beginning to sweat.

Once you finally made it all the way around you pulled out the vacuum and switched off the motor, sighing as you reached for the bottom hem of your shirt and pulled it off. You were wearing a black sports bra that covered everything but a low whistle suddenly reeled your mind back into the present as you remembered that you had an audience. You turned to face the woman still lounging in the pool chair, she had shed the white button down and was left in the skimpy bikini, your eyes wandered the the swell of her massive breasts as you bit your lip.

You were trying in vain to reign in your raging hormones as you felt your dick grow half-hard. But it was confined by your boxers and the lining of your swim trunks…for now.

The brunette had noticed your gaze as she chuckled slightly, “You can keep staring, jagi. I don’t mind.” Jihyo smirked as she pushed her chest out further, “I’m very proud of my body.”

You swallowed hard as you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling brave enough to flirt back, “My apologies, I was staring at your heart, but your boobs seem to be getting in the way.”

The singer was a little surprised by the fact that you had willingly matched her energy, “Funny and good looking, a very dangerous combo.”

You smiled as you headed back to your truck briefly to retrieve the bag of pool salt you needed to restore the correct ph levels in the pool. As you came back in, you noticed Jihyo staring as your muscles bunched slightly under the weight of the bag as you carried it over your right shoulder. Once you got back to the edge of the pool you set down the bag with the side of it facing the pool as you retrieved the box cutter from your pocket and created a small triangle at the bottom of the bag as the salt began spilling out.

After all the salt had been emptied out, you crumpled up the bag and stuffed it into the trash. Tying the elastic strings to keep it closed and everything you had taken out of the pool or used stayed in it. you were finally done and you went through without any more embarrassing incidents other than flirting back a little with the beautiful woman.

You made the short walk to where Jihyo was still lounging and stopped a safe distance away as you cleared your throat to grab her attention. The brunette turned her head as she lifted her sunglasses to properly look at you, “Miss Park, everything is finished. I cleaned and skimmed your pool as well as added more salt into it to restabilize the ph levels. If there’s nothing else you need, I can see myself out. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!”

You wanted to heave a sigh of relief as you were able to get out your entire speech and not get distracted by the tempting pillows of softness that called to you. But before you could continue patting yourself on the back for not being a perv, Jihyo pursed her lips in thought before an idea came to mind.

She reached to the table beside her as she retrieved a bottle of sun tan oil, “Actually, there may be something you can help me with.” You nodded, “I need help applying this oil and you seem like such a nice person. I’m just trying to even out my tan lines and I can’t seem to do it properly. Would you mind doing it for me?”

You felt like your head was spinning with lust, “Yeah, I guess, I can.” The brunette’s smile was practically predatory once she heard your consent. She was finally able to set the plan she had been thinking of for the last hour and a half into motion.

“Since you’re new and all, I was hoping I could give you a better perspective on Guri. A chance to get a more…hands on experience.” As the words left Jihyo’s mouth, she released the hold she had at the front of her bikini top as she let it drop and slide off her arms.

Your eyes felt like you were going to bug out of your skull as you stared at the woman’s bare breasts. They were enormous and when she sat back on the lounge chair, they bounced slightly as they settled back into place after being jostled. You swallowed hard as all you could do was stare, “Shit, you’re beautiful.”

Jihyo giggled at the compliment as she reached down for the oil, holding up the bottle in front of you, “Care to help me, jagiya? I can’t do it properly myself.” There was a hint of a pout in her voice as you took it from her, you were very much in shock about everything that was happening as you uncapped the bottle and began drizzling the liquid onto the brunette’s chest. “That’s it, don’t be shy.”

You preened at the words that fell from the older woman’s lips as you watched the oil drip down the pillowy mountains of titty flesh. You reached a tentative hand up to rub the oil into her skin but stopped, unsure if this was what she really wanted you to do. Jihyo smirked as she grabbed your hand and placed it firmly on her breast, “Rub it in please.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the pliant flesh beneath your hand. Rubbing the oil over the singer’s warm skin as you kneaded her breasts. Your movements became more bold as you chanced a pinch to her left nipple, eliciting a soft moan from your client as she pressed her chest closer to you. The tent at the front of your swim shorts was extremely obvious as the outline of your dick stood out proudly. You were painfully hard as you continued to spread the oil all over Jihyo’s chest while fondling her tits, ‘This can’t be fucking real. Whatever I did to deserve this, thank you Universe!’ You mused to yourself as you realized the brunette had been staring at you.

“Why don’t I get you now, yeah?” You quirked an eyebrow in confusion as you paused from rubbing the oil onto the older woman’s taught stomach.

“What do you mean?” Jihyo had a predatory gleam in her eyes as she urged you to stand, she followed suit as her breasts swayed with the movement.

“I think you could use some oil too. It would look just delectable on you.” Before you could speak, Jihyo poured a healthy amount into her hands and began rubbing it onto your abdomen and down your arms. The brunette bit her lip as she felt you up, her eyes drifting down to see a very obvious bulge. You followed her gaze as you suddenly felt self-conscious.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t warn you. I have a…” But before you could continue Jihyo sank to her knees as she kissed the tip of your dick beneath the swim trunks.

“Don’t apologize for who you are. Ever.” The comment was incredibly endearing as your felt your heart grow light.

‘This woman really is amazing.’

It didn’t take long for Jihyo to bring you back to the present as she hooked her fingers into the shorts, “May I?”

It was now your turn to bite your lip as you nodded, “Please.”

In a slow and practiced motion, Jihyo began pulling down your swim trunks. She hit a snag around your erect cock before she was able to get the tight material around it and was shocked to see the sheer size of it in the open. The brunette made quick work of the shorts as you stepped out of them and kicked it away, leaving the singer to stare at your impressive length. You were both long and thick making you the perfect combination as your dick flexed up to your stomach.

“Wow, you’re the biggest I’ve ever seen.” Jihyo smiled as she reached a hand up to begin stroking your cock, “You just keep getting better and better.”

You wanted to respond but your mind was a bit more preoccupied with the sight of Park Jihyo on her knees as she stroked your dick. Opting for a nod and pleased hum.

The brunette leaned forward as she placed a kiss to your balls, moving up so she could lick a long line up the underside of your shaft to the dribbling head. The slightly salty taste of your precum coated her tongue as your hand found its way into her hair, tangling her locks in between your fingers. Jihyo took the tip of your cock into her mouth and she felt a spurt of cum as you groaned at the sudden heat around you, but before she could work down more of your impressive length she felt her head jerk forward as you pulled her closer to your groin.

More cock than she could handle was suddenly filling her mouth as the head of your length hit the back of throat and she gagged. And just as quickly as you had pushed her down on your cock, you pulled her off just as fast as apologies fell from your lips. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be that rough with you, your mouth just feels really g….”

Before you could apologize further, Jihyo took you back into her mouth, but this time at her own pace. You moaned aloud as you felt her throat muscle contract as she took you all the way to the root, pulling back as she ran her tongue along the underside of your shaft. In an attempt to not choke the brunette a second time, you refrained from pulling at her hair as you carded your fingers through it instead. Thrusting forward every so often to chase the warmth that was being pulled off of you.

The head of your dick began leaking in a steady stream as you felt the coil in your abdomen tighten at how close you were to cumming. you let out a guttural moan, “Of fuck, Jihyo-ssi, I’m gonna cum.”

But just as the words left your mouth, the brunette completely pulled off of your length as a few ropes of cum shot out onto the singer’s face. You groaned as your balls clenched but you were left completely unsatisfied without any further stimulation, causing the tightening in your stomach to worsen. “Wh..what the h…hell?”

The ruined orgasm was borderline painful as your abdominal muscles grew taught but there was nothing else to combat the intense feeling. You groaned as you looked down to see your shaft even harder than before as it still rested stiffly against your stomach. But your heart seemed to stop at the view before you, Park Jihyo with lines of your cum on her face. She wore a very proud smirk as you panted, “I’m sorry, Y/N-ah, did that hurt?”

The brunette’s voice was full of false sympathy as she mocked you, which in turn pissed you off further. You growled lowly as you gripped her hair in your fist and pulled Jihyo to stand, still using her hair to guide the forceful movements as you brought her close to your face. “You must think you’re so clever. You’re gonna pay for that, sweetheart.”

Jihyo stared up to meet your eyes, accepting the challenge. “Oh, I’d love to see you try.” You pulled her into a rough kiss, void of the sweetness she had expected from you as teeth clashed and tongues wrestled for dominance. And Jihyo had to admit, she had never been more turned on in her life.

No matter what she threw at you, you gave it back to her ten fold, which was how she found herself hovering over your mouth. Her bikini bottoms completely soaked through, but you didn’t even bother to remove them as you pulled them to the side and licked a strip up the center of her pussy. Jihyo moaned at the feeling as she pressed lower trying to get more friction against her weeping folds.

You were arguably too horny to tease and you were quickly getting over your anger due to the ruined orgasm since the taste of the brunette on your tongue was just too enticing to abstain from. It had a sweet yet tangy flavor that you couldn’t get enough of as you ran the flat of your tongue almost to her clit, but stopped at the second, you weren’t letting her off the hook that easily.

But Jihyo was quick with her wits as she bucked forward trying to feel more of your tongue, “How about I give you a true taste of Guri?”

You laughed slightly, “Are you always this cheesy when you’re having sex or is this just for my benefit?” You didn’t give her a chance to respond as your tongue teased at her entrance, taking in more of her leaking arousal. But before you could dive deeper into the singer’s depths you pulled away to place a kiss to her inner thigh, “But, ever since I’ve gotten here, I feel like I’m living in a poorly written porn script.”

To her benefit, Jihyo had the humility to laugh as a genuine smile broke out onto her lips. “Well I’m disappointed that my seduction came off as poorly written porn. Was it really that bad?”

“To be fair, when you wanted me to touch your boobs you phrased it as a ‘hands on experience’.” You chuckled as you craned your neck to suck on her clit briefly, “I’ll give you the benefit of a doubt that it came off as cheesy rather than poorly written porn.”

Jihyo hummed as she lost focus on the conversation as she relished in the feeling of her clit getting the attention it so desperately craved, “I can accept that. But can we save the pillow talk for after, I think there are more pressing matters at the moment.”

You chuckled as you kissed her clit, “I agree. Why don’t you ride me, jagi, I want to see those beautiful tits bounce for me. Least you could do since you spilled oil all over me.”

The brunette smirked as she wiggled her way out of her bikini bottoms so that the two were completely naked, “I can definitely get on top of that idea and get on top of you as well.”

You both laughed out loud but your laughing ceased as Jihyo sank down on your cock. The feeling of being stretched open made the singer moan loudly as the rippling heat around your dick made you groan as one of your hands shot to hold onto Jihyo’s hip, guiding her down till you bottomed out inside of her. She breathed through her nose as she felt her inner walls adjust to the stretch, it had been awhile since she had been with anyone and her fingers were never this thick or this deep inside of her.

The brunette let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as she slowly began to rise up from atop of your cock till only the tip remained inside of her then dropped down. Eliciting a moan from both of you as pleasure crawled up your spines. Jihyo bounced on your lap as your dick had enough curve to it to rub against the spot inside of her that made her see stars when she pulled out at just the right angle. Your eyes were transfixed on her wobbling tits as an unashamed look of lust adorned your face.

You even reached the hand that hadn’t found purchase on the brunette’s hip to continue squeezing and teasing her breasts. “Shit, just like that, good girl. You’re taking me so well.”

Jihyo’s breathing came out in clipped pants as she moved faster, the sound of her skin slapping against your’s made her blush as loud moans fell from her mouth. “God, only for you. You're filling me up so much.”

The singer sounded breathless as she began adding in the occasional rock of her hips to elicit more pleasure against her clit. You groaned beneath her as the hot and tight walls of Jihyo’s pussy gripped your shaft firmly, massaging it in a way that sent your head spinning. Everything felt amazing and the fact that you were even more pent up from the very unsatisfying release from before didn’t help. You felt dangerously close to the edge as you began thrusting up to meet Jihyo’s hips.

“Fucking shit, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum!” Your voice was strained as the idol’s inner walls tightened even more around you. There was only so much more of this that you could take before you were at the end of your wits.

“Cum inside, I’m on the pill. I’m almost there!” Jihyo’s voice raised an octave as her thrusts became a blur of short up and down movements. Not wanting to part from you for long as she reached a hand down to rub at her clit.

The sight of the woman atop you: riding you, touching herself, and her gigantic tits bouncing was enough to send you careening over the edge as you choked on a moan before feeling your abdomen contract and your balls tighten. Ropes of your cum shot deep inside of Jihyo as the feeling triggered the singer’s orgasm in turn and caused her walls to clench rhythmically around your cock.

Jihyo finally let out the scream she had been suppressing as she tilted her head back up to the sky as she came. Her release squirted out onto you ever so slightly as she felt your hot load in her womb. She sighed as her walls gave one final squeeze to your shaft after she had milked you for all you were worth. Jihyo looked down to see that your eyes had closed and a blissful smile graced your lips. She could tell you were awake, but barely.

That’s when her exhaustion seemed to hit her as well, she didn’t bother moving too much as she leaned forward to rest her body atop of yours. She could feel your dick softening a little inside of her as she placed lazy kisses on your neck, “That was amazing.”

You had started tracing random patterns on her naked back that she found oddly soothing, “I think amazing might be an understatement.”

Finally, you two broke the scene that the two of you had built as you wrapped your arms around your girlfriend. Placing a kiss to the crown of her head, “Thank you for doing this with me. I know a scene like this was a little weird.”

Jihyo grinned as she cuddled closer to you, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, jagiya. I haven’t cum that hard in a long time”

You laughed slightly before a yawn cut you off, “Tell me about it. You even squirted!” The idol could practically feel the smug smile on your face as she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t get too full of yourself, Y/N-ah.” Jihyo yawned as she felt her eyes start to droop, “I’m gonna nap for a little, the whole thing really tired me out. I love you, jagi.”

You smiled as you pulled your girlfriend as close to you as humanly possible, “I love you too, Jihyo-ah.”

#twice #fortwice #twice imagines #twice prompts #twice smut #twice fluff #park jihyo #twice jihyo #park jihyo x g!p fem reader #g!p reader #twice x fem reader #twice x reader #twiceinadream

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onlineroadservices · 2 days ago

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Avoid Costly Repairs with Wrecker Services Near Illinois

Prevent expensive breakdowns by using trusted wrecker services near Illinois for safe towing. Whether you need truck repair near me, mobile semi-truck repair, or expert truck maintenance tips, these services ensure your vehicle stays in top condition. Breakdowns can be costly, but timely assistance minimizes damage and keeps you on the road. Trust professional towing and repair services to save money and maintain your truck’s performance. Stay prepared and avoid unnecessary expenses!

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carediesel · 3 months ago

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What Should You Expect When Using Semi-Mobile Truck Repair Services in Vancouver?

When your truck or fleet needs repairs, time is of the essence. If you’re based in Vancouver and need an efficient solution that saves you time and hassle, Semi-Mobile Truck Repair in Vancouver could be the answer. This type of service brings skilled technicians and equipment directly to your location, offering convenience and minimizing downtime. Read More.

#semi mobile truck repair #Mobile Truck Repair #Truck Maintenance #mobile truck repair in vancouver #mobile diesel mechanic near me #diesel truck repair #diesel mechanic near me

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the-name-is-z · 2 months ago

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SKELETONS | ch. 64

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: The Alexandrians face a new issue arising in the community. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; manipulating walkers; arguments; mentions of murder and conspiracy; mentions of explosives

Chapter 64 - Plans

“Here, use this.” Iris recommended, passing Daryl a zip tie as he affixed another part to his bike. She sat on the curb outside the house, passing him tools every now and then for general maintenance. The sun was out and shining, but there was still a heavy layer of gloom that surrounded the town.

“So is he okay with it?” Daryl asked as the door opened, Rick stepping down the porch to meet them.

“It was pretty much his idea.” He stated. “He gets it.”

“It’s got a bed and a bath, but it’s still a cage, you know.” Daryl grunted. They had moved Morgan into the basement bedroom of the house where they could lock the doors. Despite everything that happened, Rick still wanted to adhere to strict screening protocols in terms of newcomers in Alexandria. Which was fair, and Morgan complied.

“He gets it.” Rick assured. “He told me what happened out there, with the trucks.”

“He tell you about those guys he met?” Daryl asked, scowling. He brushed off his hands as he finished, standing before extending a hand to Iris to pull her up. “The ‘W’s?”

“Like that walker we saw, yeah.” Rick grimaced. “We need more watch points. And I’m gonna tell Deanna we don’t need to go looking for people anymore.” Daryl blinked, staying silent for a moment before nodding. Rick paused. “You feel different about it?”

“Yeah, I do.” Daryl replied.

“The people out there, they gotta take care of themselves, just like us.” Rick argued, before swiftly changing the subject back to Morgan. “I’m gonna get him out. Shouldn’t leave him in there any longer than we have to.” Daryl watched him walk away before turning to look at the ground.

“We wouldn’t be here without Aaron.” Iris stated, frowning after Rick.

“He knows that.” Daryl defended, though his tone seemed unsure. Iris shook her head.

“Does he?”

The entire group gathered for a meeting at Deanna’s house when they heard of a group’s return. Apparently, before they arrived, there was a small team that went out for a run and had been gone for almost three weeks before they came back. Iris didn’t envy them, and the confusion they must have felt upon their return. Heath, Scott, and Annie, their names were.

Rick and Morgan had also returned, with Jessie’s son Ron in tow, after going out a ways to bury Pete’s body. Rick and Deanna had agreed that they would not be burying killers in these walls. Morgan had graciously offered to help, and Ron had snuck out in order to find out where his father was to be buried.

Yet, on their adventure, Rick and Morgan saved Ron from falling into a quarry. The huge pit was blocked off by semi-trucks, and filled to near-brimming with walkers. It explained why the area around Alexandria was so clear, so safe. They were attracted to the quarry by the sound of the others, and as it grew, the sound got louder. Except now, it was the biggest threat they might face, especially if something were to happen and one of the trucks were to fall, unleashing a few herd’s worth of walkers into the area and their community.

“My team…” Heath began, speaking to the packed room of every adult that was able to come. “We saw it early on, back when we were on one of those first scouts, finding out what was around here. There was a camp at the bottom. The people, they must have blocked the exits with one of those trucks back when everything started to go bad. They didn’t make it, they were all roamers. Maybe a dozen of them?”

“And no one’s been back since?” Maggie asked. Heath shook his head.

“DC, every town worth scavenging are all in the other direction. And I never really felt like having a picnic next to the camp that ate itself.” He explained.

“So all the while the walkers have been drawn by the sound and they’re making more sound and drawing more in.” Michonne laid out.

“And here we are.” Rick grunted, his hands on his hips. “Now what I’m proposing, I know it sounds risky, but walkers are already slipping through the exits. One of the trucks keeping the walkers in could go off the edge any day now. Maybe after one more hard rain. That exit sends them east. All of them, right at us. This isn’t about if it gives, it’s when. It’s gonna happen. That’s why we have to do this soon.”

“This is—“ Carol started innocently. “I don’t even have another word for it. This is terrifying. All of it. But it doesn’t sound like there’s any other way.”

“Maybe there is.” Another man, Carter, suggested. “I mean, couldn’t we just build up the weak spots? I-I could draw up plans. I worked on the wall with Reg. Construction crew— we can try to make it safe.” Abraham looked up at Rick, subtly shaking his head.

“Even if we could, the sound of those walkers is drawing more and more every day. Building up the exits won’t change that.” Rick replied, shaking his head.

“Is there a way that we could…” Iris paused, exhaling through her nose in frustration when she couldn't think of a better way to articulate it. “Kill them all at once? Or at least bigger groups?”

“We’re fresh out of C4, sunshine.” Abraham huffed.

“We’d need over sixty-thousand pounds of explosives for anything like that, and I don’t see how we could without compromising safety or ammo,” Rick shook his head, “Not to mention the noise.”

“We’re gonna do what Rick says. The plan he’s laid out.” Deanna announced, staring out her front window. Rick nodded.

“I told you all, we’re gonna have Daryl leading them away.” He explained. Daryl nodded from beside Iris, the two of them squished together in the window bench.

“Me, too.” Sasha volunteered. “I’ll take a car, ride next to him. Can’t just be him. I’ll keep ‘em coming, Daryl keeps them from getting sloppy.”

“I’ll go with her.” Abraham agreed. “It’s a long way to white-knuckle it solo.” Iris opened her mouth, but looked down at the feeling of Daryl grabbing her hand. Her eyebrows knit together as he shook his head. Rick nodded.

“We’ll have two teams.” He continued. “One on each side of the forest helping manage this thing. We’re gonna have a few people on watch from now on. Rosita, Spencer and Holly. So they’re out. So who’s in?”

“Me.” Michonne said quickly.

“I’m in.” Glenn volunteered after a moment of hushed whispers with Maggie. She said nothing.

“I’d like to help as well.” Gabriel volunteered, raising a hand.

“No. Who else?” Rick denied immediately. “We need more.”

“There’s gotta be another play.” Carter insisted, his face contorting in fear. “We can’t just control that many.”

“Rick said before, walkers herd up. They’ll follow the path, the noise. That’s how we can get them in one sweep. It’ll work.” Iris insisted.

“So, what? We’re just supposed to take your word for it?” Carter asked shortly. “We’re all supposed to just fall in line behind you after…” He trailed off and Rick stared for a moment.

“After what?” He prodded.

“After you wave a gun around, screaming, pointing it at people.” Carter replied. Iris pursed her lips. He had a point, it was not a good look for them. “After you shoot a man in the face, after you—“

“Enough!” Deanna shouted. Carter shut his mouth and Rick looked around, daring any others to challenge him.

“I’ll do it.” Heath offered, breaking the heated silence.

“Me too.” Francine agreed.

“Whatever you need, I��m in.” Tobin added.

“Now who else?” Deanna challenged.

“I’ll go.” Nicholas volunteered meekly, his voice still hoarse from screaming out in the woods where he and Glenn had apparently battled it out. The two of them looked like hell. Glenn glared daggers at him, but Nicholas shrugged. “We have to do this. I need to help.”

“You sure you can handle it?” Rick asked, glancing at Glenn before Nicholas.

“You need people.” Nicholas replied simply. Rick nodded, looking around at everyone.

“We’ll make this work. We’ll keep this place safe. Keep our families safe. We will.” He stated.

“The plan. Go through it again.” Carter grunted.

“Man, he just said it.” Daryl spat back, annoyed.

“Every part again.” Carter insisted. “The exact plan.”

“Marshall and Redding.” Rick decided, pointing a finger down on the intersection of two roads on a map. “We block it off so they can only go one way, west, away from the community.”

“Block it off with what?” Carter asked.

“Cars.” Iris suggested. “We have plenty. Too many than we need or can afford. We can line them up in a wall. The RVs, some of the bigger trucks.”

“We’ll be drawing them away.” Michonne nodded. “They’re gonna keep moving.”

“Yeah, but that many? Just bouncing off some sedans?” Carter scoffed. Iris grit her teeth, fighting with her half a mind to throw him over the side of the wall. “And then when they start slipping through and the ones that walk away start distracting the rest and you stop drawing them away?”

“Man’s got a point.” Heath murmured, shaking his head.

“We got plates.” Eugene suggested. “The big-ass metal ones from the construction site. We can use them to fortify the whip wall. It’d help disperse the force of impact and direct the walkers clean, like a pool table. Eight ball, corner pocket.” Iris grinned, nodding.

“That’s an army out there.” Carter hissed, pointing a finger to the wall. “And what happens when this doesn’t hold? And they push on through. The curve in this hillside is gonna send them right back east. Right back here. You seriously want to risk that?”

“No.” Rick said firmly. “So you need to help us to make it hold.”

“These walls, you built ‘em.” Morgan stated. “So, you’ve already done the impossible.”

“Carter.” Deanna whispered. “Please.”

They got every able-bodied person they could to help, taken out into the real world to dig dirt into bags to build a trench, build a wall. Iris wiped an arm across her brow as she shovelled the last bit into a wheelbarrow. “You need to be honest.” She murmured. Daryl looked up from the wheelbarrow.

“What do you mean?” He asked. She pressed her lips together.

“We agree that people are a valuable resource. Aaron said it when he took us in. Rick is wrong, and you need to tell him.” She insisted. Daryl hummed, grunting as he picked up the wheelbarrow and brought the dirt over to where Rick was filling bags.

“Hey, what you said before about us needing to take care of ourselves? Going out and finding more people, that is taking care of ourselves. Your call, though.” He said simply, dumping the dirt and turning around to return to Iris. “Happy now?” He asked when she smiled at him. He scoffed, shaking his head.

“Almost.” She said, leaving the shovel in the dirt and walking over to him. “Why’d you stop me before? I want to come with you.” Daryl sighed, looking over at the group before turning to face her.

“I don’t want you out there.” Daryl said shortly, frowning. Iris’ lips parted before she tilted her head with a bemused smile.

“Do you remember when you once told me that looking after me wasn’t your responsibility?” Iris asked calmly.

“Well maybe now I feel different.” Daryl replied softly, not shying away as Iris stepped closer. He held his ground as she stared at him, that mischievous grin never leaving her face. She seemed rather pleased with herself, and he had to try not to laugh.

“Okay.” She conceded. “I’ll stay. This time.” He simply nodded, wrapping his arms around her and placing his chin atop of her head. She smiled into his chest, committing the moment to memory. They pulled away as Carol walked over, a smug smile on her face as she passed them both cups of lemonade.

“What are you smiling about?” Daryl grunted, downing the lemonade in one swig and passing the cup back to her. She placed it on the tray, shrugging.

“Nothing.” She replied, turning back around to the others.

“Heading out to the quarry, doing a dry run before tomorrow.” Daryl explained, jogging down the porch steps to where Iris was sitting. She stood, nodding. “Here.” He handed her a radio, “In case you want to check in. Channel three.”

“Okay.” Iris said, smiling softly. She held her hand out, pinky extended toward him. He let a small, knowing smile slip out, hooking his pinky in hers. “Stay safe.”

“Keep them safe.” Daryl replied, jerking his chin to Carl, who stood with Judith in the house doorway. He smiled sheepishly, ducking back into the house. Iris chuckled, shaking her head.

They began the dry run, setting back up at the quarry to ensure everything was prepared. All of them were relatively ready, nerves building.

“This is where it all starts tomorrow.” Rick announced to the group, standing on the bed of a pickup truck. “Tobin gets in the truck, opens the exit and we’re off. He hops out, catches up with his team at red and staying on the west side of the road. Daryl gets on his bike—“

“You see that?” Sasha called, pointing. They all heard a deep rumbling, metal groaning across the quarry at the east exit. The pickup blocking the exit squealed as the rocks beneath the engine crumbled, trailer following, the truck careening to the ground with a thundering boom.

“Its open! We got to do this now!” Rick yelled. Everyone sprung into action, caught off card but for the most part ready. “We’re doing this now! Tobin’s group get moving, now!”

“No, Rick, we’re not ready!” Carter pleaded to deaf ears.

“Sasha! Abraham!”

“Damn straight, we’ll do it live!” Abraham called back, the two of them throwing themselves into the reliable car Iris had given them.

“You meet Daryl at red. Let him take them through the gauntlet!”

“Yep, we meet at red!” Sasha echoed.

“Go!”

“Rick, this was supposed to be a dry run.” Carter panicked.

“Daryl, get ready!” Rick yelled, still ignoring him.

“They’re coming.” Daryl called back, crossbow cocked and ready.

“We haven’t even gone through the whole plan—“

“You want to go back, go back! We’re finishing this! Tobin! You hit it on my signal! They’re heading for home, we don’t have a choice! Get ready to hit the flares… now!”

They lit up the flares, and Tobin hit the truck. With it out to the way, the hordes began to move up the path to follow the yelling, running meals that led them away.

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

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@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

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#thenameisz #daryl dixon #the walking dead #skeletons #the walking dead daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x original character

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year ago

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There's a sort of cosmic unfairness to the idea that you need to have a garage in order to effectively own shitbox cars. A garage almost always comes with a house, and a house requires its own maintenance. Maintenance that takes you away from your car. That's a huge bummer. It's nowhere near as much fun fixing leaks on garage doors as it is to fix leaks in your oilpan.

Naturally, I try to do as little maintenance as possible to the home in which I live. Legally, it would be incorrect to refer to it as "my" home, as my attorney informs me that I should try to maintain the illusion that my landlord is still alive for as long as possible. Squatter's rights are great and all, but eventually the bill collectors are going to come looking for me if they cotton on to the fact that he disappeared under mysterious circumstances, which I am pretty sure is the name of a town in Illinois.

That said, you still need to fix up your place once in awhile if you want it to serve the important task of storing all your hoarded car parts. What, you thought I kept my cars in here? No. These old batteries and bent steel wheels are worth more than any of my cars. Much more, even in aggregate. If any of them got wet, then I'd have to immediately drive very fast to the recycler to get rid of them, which would very much reduce any leverage I have when negotiating my payment. You want to seem cool and aloof when you roll up to We Don't Ask Questions Metals, and frantically powersliding into the lot with some dramatically sparking 25-year-old lead-acids undermines that entire thing.

All this is to explain why the roof of my garage is now three or four layers of tarps, duct-taped together. You might think that you recognize these tarps as being the ones on the construction site down the road, but such an accusation is ridiculous. Why would I do such a brazen, stupid theft, when the very construction workers affected drive by my house every day? Maybe because their own fancy trucks have batteries, and they'd have to stop to read off the address number written on the side of the building? That's a very good guess. Maybe you'd like a Group H7 battery, fresh out of the front of an F-250 King Ranch, for your observational skills. Just don't put it in the corner over there. It's gotten a little wet.

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blakelysco-pilot · 9 months ago

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I've Got A Crush (On You)

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Two

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

There are days at Thorpe Abbotts that some would call low maintenance. Those are the days where Benny DeMarco is just a boy with his dog, John Egan gets to play baseball, and Everett Blakely is just a guy who gets to romance a pretty girl the best way he can given the circumstances.

Part One Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist

Warnings: Making out with Blakely should be a warning in itself, so, that and some heavy petting. Proceed as you see fit.

Some days, life on base moved quickly. There was the hustle of early mornings, brewing enough coffee to indeed fuel an army, and make sure that each man was sent off with a wink and a smile before a mission. The sounds of engines roaring from the hardstand, the ground crew shouting at each other as each plane taxied and ultimately, took off into the clouds. Those were the days that seemed to never end; waiting for the return with bated breath, counting the planes as they approached the air field, looking for red or green flares to indicate if a fort was carrying wounded onboard.

Then there were the days that seemed to stretch into nothingness. Breakfast in the Mess Hall was a relaxed affair. The boys would sit around and sip their coffee leisurely, the Red Cross girls all crowded at a table near the back, gossiping about this and that, until one of the boys would walk by and silence them with a wink and a smile. They would spend those days helping out the nurses in the hospital, refilling and restocking what they’d need when a mission day would roll around. They would prepare what they could on the Clubmobile truck, or indulge themselves in some reading, or a walk into town if the weather was favorable. Some of the girls who were handy with a needle and thread would offer to patch up the stray jacket, or sew a patch to someone's sleeve if they needed. None of the Flyboy’s were going to do that themselves if they could help it. On days like those, Val would often be in Chick Harding’s office, to type out the odd letter or mission debrief that wasn’t too gory.

“You can’t see that one,” He’d said one day. “It’s too much.”

“I grew up with Curt Biddick. Nothing is too much.”

From that point on, they’d come to respect each other in some weird way. Val suspected it had to do with the fact that he typed slower than her grandmother back in New York and she couldn’t type at all.

Today was one of those days. The base was a bit relaxed; Ken Lemmons and his crew were working tirelessly to patch up the forts that had come back from the last raid. Some of the pilots were hanging around the hardstand, watching to make sure their planes were in good shape, asking questions or simply keeping the ground crew company. Benny DeMarco was playing fetch with Meatball in the field, taking advantage of the rare sunshine. Tattie had coerced Bucky into driving her down to the hardstand with coffee and donuts for the boys working, and Helen was helping stock the hospital. Val had been summoned to Harding’s office after breakfast, and as lunchtime rolled around, she was putting the finishing touches on the report of a mission that had been green flares on the return.

Pushing back from the typewriter, she stretched her arms out, before standing, pulling the paper from behind the ribbon, and stacking it on top of the others she had already completed. Chick was sitting at his desk, puffing away at his cigar, reading the paper when she approached.

“Val, you should have been a correspondence gal instead of joining the Red Cross.” He grinned, hand outstretched to accept her offering of the reports.

“And miss out on making coffee and donuts for you fellas?” She rolled her eyes with a sarcastic grin, folding her hands under her bust. “Is that all you got for me today?”

“Yea, go on. Looks like Biddick is lingering outside, kids probably waiting for you.” He craned his head back to peer out the window, spotting Curt sitting on the stairs of the control tower, smoking a cigarette.

“Pain in my ass.” She shook her head with a sigh, and offered a wave as she turned to leave the office.

“You always call him that.” Chick called after her.

“Because he is!” She called back from down the hall, not missing the slight scowl from some of the secretaries. Apparently having the affections of both Curt and Ev Blakely had put her out of their favor, in some strange way. They didn’t mind when she brought them the leftover donuts from the truck though; then she was in their favor it seemed.

Pushing the door open, she immediately spotted Curt, still on the stairs of the control tower. Walking across the path towards him, she stood, blocking the sun from his face with her hands on her hips. Just as she looked down at him, he looked up, a cheeky smile on his face, his crush cap sitting at a jaunty angle on his head.

“Heya!”

“Hi Curt…”

“Why do you sound so put off, eh? I just wanted to say hi to my best friend!”

“You want something.”

“I can’t just say hi?”

“Sure you can” She began walking towards the direction of the Red Cross hut, and Curt quickly jumped to his feet to follow her. “But it’s usually accompanied by a favor, so spit it out.”

“Val…” He groaned.

“Curtis Biddick. Spit it out.”

He heaved a giant sigh, before launching into the favor she knew he needed from her.

“You uh, remember the other night at the pub?”

“When you clocked that RAF clown? Sure, I do.”

“I ripped my shirt.” He ducked his head down, looking anywhere but at Val.

“Fuck sake, Curt…”

“Could you please, please, be a doll and patch it up for me?”

“Your mother would give you a clip on the ear if she heard that.”

“I said please!”

“No, that you tore your shirt fighting.”

“Oh…” He whispered, and she could see him fighting the urge to get melancholy for home.

“Bring it by the hut after dinner and I’ll see what I can do.” She had finally conceded.

“You’re the greatest, ya know that?”

“So you like to remind me,” She stopped outside the hut, turning to face him. “Not that I’m not enjoying this conversation, Curt, but this is where I leave you.”

“Yeah alright, bye doll face!” He tipped his hat and gave her an exaggerated half bow, before turning and heading in the opposite direction of the Red Cross hut.

Just as she was about to push the door open to the hut, a jeep came rounding the corner, the gravel crunching under its tires. She was quite surprised to see Helen in the passenger seat, Harry Crosby behind the wheel and Bubbles in the back.

“Well, look at this trio!” She grinned as Harry stopped the jeep in front of her.

“Val, get in!” Helen grinned, waving her hand wildly. “We’re headed down to the hardstand!”

“What’s going on down there?” She conceded to Helen’s request, climbing into the jeep and settling next to Bubbles, who tossed an arm over her shoulder almost instantly.

“Uh, Bubbles?”

“Croz has a lead foot. Trust me.”

Nodding, Val leaned forward just a bit so that she could speak to Helen.

“So why are we going to the hardstand?”

“Well, DeMarco was playing fetch with Meatball, but when Bucky showed up, it turned into a small ball game with some of the boys.” Val didn’t miss the wink that Helen threw her way, indicating that a certain Captain Blakely was likely to be down there with the other men, and that Val might like to witness the sight for herself.

“We all know how Egan is when it comes to baseball…” Val rolled her eyes, one hand gripping the seat as Croz took a particularly sharp turn. Bubbles tightened his grip on her shoulder, and she didn't miss the knowing look he gave her as if to say I told you so. In a bid to distract herself from Croz’s formidable driving, she continued the conversation.

“You two plan on joining the game?” Val turned to look at Bubbles.

“Oh no, but it’s good fun to see the Major pretend he’s Mickey Mantle.” Bubbles snickered, loosening his grip on her shoulder as Croz turned onto the road that led to the hardstand, the jeep coming to a stop.

It was no surprise that John Egan had organized a semi professional- his words- shirts versus skins ball game that had Gale Cleven shaking his head from where he was perched on his own jeep. The Major looked like an extra from Test Pilot, but that wasn’t immediately what pulled Val’s attention away from the trio she was with. It was Everett Blakely standing in the makeshift outfield, uniform shirt unbuttoned, green army issue tank tucked into his trousers. His hair, normally styled to perfection, had come free of the gel, and was curling over his forehead. His hazel eyes were hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses and he was laughing at something Hambone had said. When the bombardier caught sight of her, his sharp elbow had lodged itself in Everett’s ribs, the pilot scowling at his friend before following the other man's gaze. His grin widened as soon as he spotted Val.

The brunette perched on the hood of a jeep in her Red Cross jumpsuit, legs tucked underneath her criss cross applesauce, her red lips stretched into a smile as she laughed at something Helen had said. He watched as Tattie bounded over towards the other two girls, the trio now squeezing to make room so they could all watch comfortably from the hood of the jeep. Croz and Bubbles remained with them. They kept offering up commentary that he couldn't hear but wished desperately that he could, because they kept making Val laugh, and Everett Blakely wanted to be the one to do that. Especially on a day like today, with the sun shining across the airfield, the forts sitting pretty on the hardstand like statues, everyone was relaxed for a moment, and there was a pretty girl that he wanted to give all of his time to. He was so lost in the daydream that he barely heard Brady yelling for him to look out, almost missed the baseball flying at his head, and was almost out for the count had Hambone not pushed him out of the way to grab it before it hit the ground.

“Christ, Blakely!”

“Sorry!” He hollered, looking between Ham and Brady with apologetic eyes.

“Stop making eyes at Val,” Hambone mumbled under his breath so only Ev could hear him. “You get knocked in the head, you’re going to see Smokey, not to the Red Cross hut, dummy.”

Everett winced then, realizing that the last place he wanted to land was the hospital under the watchful eye of Doc Stover and the nurses, because he had been careless. That would get him nowhere with Val except farther away than where he wanted to be. Chancing a glance in her direction, he found her gaze focused on him, the sly smile on her lips telling him she had caught him staring, and watched him almost take a baseball to his head. With a slight shake of her head, she gestured for him to focus back on what he was doing as Ken Lemmons made a valiant attempt at scoring a run. In the end, the ground crew chief had been unsuccessful in his at bat, and Bucky had shouted for the end of the inning.

“SEVENTH INNING STRETCH!” He called across the field, gathering those in the outfield to join the rest of the men around the cluster of jeeps.

“Christ Bucky, I’m standing right here.” Tattie scowled up at him, his shouting having been from his spot directly beside her.

“Sorry Tat…”

“Yea, yea, always sorry.” She shoved him playfully.

Val hadn’t noticed Everett come up behind her on the left, until he was leaning beside her, lighting a cigarette.

“Better be careful out there.” She turned to him with a wink.

“Can’t help it,” He blew a puff of smoke out in front of him. “Saw something pretty.”

“Flirt.”

“And proud of it, sweetheart.”

“Better not be flirting with anyone else, Captain.”

“Just you, sweet cheeks.”

Val wrinkled her nose at the nickname, plucking his cigarette from between his lips to take a drag, before handing it back to him.

“Okay, doesn’t like sweet cheeks.”

“Sounds funny.” She shrugged.

“Aright, sweetheart, won’t use it again.”

“That’s better.”

“Yea? You’re my sweetheart then?” He grinned, leaning forward so his elbows were placed either side of her now outstretched legs.

“Thought I already was…”

“In that case, save me a dance tonight?”

“Just one?” She grinned, leaning forward to bait him.

“As many as you want, beautiful.” He leaned forward, lips brushing her cheek, mustache tickling her skin, causing her to giggle. He was in deep. He knew it, she knew it, and their friends knew it. Thank god he knew how to swim.

Val knew that Curt wasn’t going to listen when she told him to drop his ripped shirt off after dinner, because when she had gotten back to the Red Cross hut with Helen and Tattie, she saw him sneaking out with one of the nurses on his heels. That explains why she hadn’t seen him down at the makeshift ballgame earlier.

“Oh Christ, was he with her the whole afternoon?” Tattie grumbled.

“Looks like it,” Helen sighed. “Now our hut is going to smell like Curt Biddick and whatever cheap perfume she wears.”

“Val, can’t you scare her a little?”

“You know the answer to that, Tat. But I’ll try and get through to Curt.”

“At least tell Biddick to do it somewhere else. We’re not running a brothel.”

“What was he even doing in there?”

“Ripped his shirt the other night and asked me to patch it up. I told him to drop it off after dinner, not while I wasn’t there.”

“You should make him wait,” Tattie turned from where she was currently propping the door open with a spare chair to air out the hut. “It stinks in here.”

“I would, but who wants to hear Harding hemming and hawing about it.”

Tattie conceded at that, and left to go sit outside to smoke, while Val got settled on her bed with a small sewing kit, and Curt’s shirt.

After dinner had concluded, the men and women all retreated to their respective huts to get ready for a night in the Officers Club. The boys would change into their Class A uniforms, shedding their bomber jackets and outdoor attire. The woolen jackets that hung above their beds would be pressed until each seam was meticulous, and their accolades would be pinned to their collars on full display. Curt’s shirt had magically reappeared by his bunk after dinner, and he had no doubt that Val was responsible.

The Red Cross girls would happily divest of their jumpsuits, and step into lingerie, pantyhose and a clean uniform skirt and white blouse. Their jackets proudly displayed the Red Cross logo on the shoulders, and their hair that may have been haphazardly pinned or up in a scarf to get through the day, would be reset and pinned almost as best as a salon back home could do it. Each girl armed with their Victory Red lipstick and a pack of smokes, they would step into their heels, link arms, and make their way to the Officers Club to join the men.

The band was playing something upbeat, and Val knew it was only a matter of time before Bucky would be singing his heart out with them, to almost everyone’s dismay. He was currently nursing a whiskey off by the bar with Buck and Curt, and she just barely caught him regaling the pair of the events of today’s game, even though everyone knew that Gale Cleven didn’t like sports and Curt was giving the nurse from earlier a look from across the room. When her gaze met his, she didn’t miss the wince that overcame his face as he watched her entire demeanor change.

“Let me get you a drink!” Were his first words, turning to face the bar and missing Val’s hand coming up to grab on his ear. “Oww! Valencia!”

“In my hut! Have you lost your mind!”

“I went to drop off my shirt and she, well…”

“My hut is not a brothel. Tattie’s pissed, Curt, so you’d better apologize.”

“I’m sorry!”

“To her, not me, though I will accept it.”

“Can you let go of my ear now? Jesus, what, did my Ma teach you that?”

“Get Tattie a drink and go over and apologize.” She relinquished his ear with one final tug, smoothing her own jacket before turning to Gale and John and offering them both a wide smile.

“Don’t know how you do it, Val, but you’re the only one he listens to.” Croz offered up from behind her.

“Just a little tough love is all, Croz.”

“Well, it looks like he’s trying to smooth it over with Tattie.” Bubbles pipped up. Where one was, the other was not far behind.

“She’s going to make him work for it,” Val laughed, turning back to the bar to order a drink. “And he should work for it. Brought that filthy nurse into our hut.”

“I’ll talk to Smokey,” Bucky offered. “She’s, uh, been a bit of a problem with some of the other men, and honestly, I don’t need anyone else getting sick.”

“Sick… oh my god! Did she… you weren’t kidding about Dye were you!”

Before Bucky could answer or Val could run off and find Helen and Tattie with the gossip, she felt a gentle hand at her elbow. She turned to find Everett standing in front of her, sharp as a tack in his uniform and holding a drink for her.

“My hero!” Val cheered, accepting the drink from him with a smile, leaning up on her toes to drop a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Everett.”

“Saw you putting in some hard work with Curt, and thought you might be thirsty.”

“Oh Christ, I’m sorry you saw that.”

“The ear thing? Absolutely terrifying. My mother used to do that when I was a kid if I didn’t listen.”

“Sounds like your mother and I would get along.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Well aren’t you smooth.” Val winked, lifting the glass to her lips, taking a sip, not missing the way he watched her.

With a quirk of his lips, Everett let his hand rest gently on Val’s back as he led her to a table that he had secured earlier with Douglass. He didn’t need to ask if she wanted to go sit with him, there was an understanding that seemed to just happen when the pair were together. Besides, he knew she’d want to nurse that first drink before he got her out on the dance floor- hopefully before John Egan decided to serenade them all.

Approaching the table, Val found that Douglass was sitting between Helen and Tattie, and he looked absolutely engrossed in every word that passed between them.

“You girls pick up a fourth while I was gone?” Val teased, sliding into the chair that Everett pulled out for her. He immediately took up the spot to her right, now sandwiched between her and Tattie, while Helen was to her left.

“Don’t let him fool you, he’s good at the gossip.” Helen laughed, lighting a cigarette.

“Oh! That reminds me!”

“Did you handle the nurse?” Tattie raised an eyebrow at her, causing both Everett and Douglass to turn to her with worried eyes. “Curt apologized by the way.”

“I saw, good.”

“Handle?” Douglass asked her.

“I handled Curt.”

“What nurse? What exactly did Curt do?” Everett looked at her concerned, and she simply let her hand fall to his, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“I caught him sneaking out of the Red Cross hut with you know who today…” she started.

“That one gets around.” Douglass sighed, shaking his head.

“My god, Doug, you are a gossip queen!” Helen grinned. “What else do you know?”

“Let Val finish her story, then we can peel back the many complicated layers of James Douglass!” Tattie cackled.

“Well, when I mentioned it to Bucky, he said he would have a word with Smokey about her, because he doesn’t need any other guys getting sick.”

“What kind of sick could she-“

Both Everett and James turned to each other, looks of sheer disgust crossing their faces as they realized what Val had just said. They too had heard the rumor about Dye, but no one could really figure out how it had started, if it was true, or who gave it to him.

“It was true about Dye,” Val spoke a bit lower. “She gave him the clap…”

“Oh she’s vile!” Helen exclaimed.

“She certainly is,” Val agreed, before turning to the boys. “Now you two, if you’re going to sit with us and listen in, it’s a secret. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” Douglass mock saluted, cigarette between two fingers.

“Ev?”

“Not a word, sweetheart, I got it.”

“Good,” she grinned, draining her drink just as the band moved into something softer. “Now, I think it’s time for a dance.”

“What the lady wants, she gets.” Everett grinned, taking one last sip of his own drink before taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.

“You think he’s alright over there?” Val quirked an eyebrow over towards where Douglass still sat between Helen and Tattie.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s in heaven.” Everett chuckled, spinning her once before gently pulling her close, wrapping one arm around her back, the other holding hers.

“They’ll eat him alive.” She chuckled lowly, her cheek pressed against his as he swayed them slowly.

“Don’t wanna talk about Dougie while I’m dancing with you.” He gave her hip a gentle pinch causing her to scoot just a fraction closer to him.

The arm she had wrapped around him settled firmly in place, her fingers dancing through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“Hmm, then what do you want to talk about?”

“How cute you looked sitting on that jeep today.”

“I was in my jumpsuit, that’s hardly cute honey.”

“I think it’s adorable.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely,” He pressed his nose against her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and perfume. “Everything about you is adorable.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever described me as adorable before,” she sighed. “Usually it’s difficult, loud, or my personal favorite, unladylike.”

“Not a shot,” Ev pulled back to look at her, his hazel eyes finding her green. “Anyone who said that didn’t know what a good thing they had.”

“You really are something, Everett Blakely.” Val sighed, moving back into him to let her head rest against his shoulder.

“I hope that’s a good thing…”

Before Val could respond, the band picked up again, Blue Skies filling the room followed by a collective groan by everybody present. Everett and Val broke apart, now standing side by side as they waited for the inevitable.

“ITS MY SONG, BUCK!”

Looking towards the band, they both clocked Bucky dancing his way behind the microphone, his arms flailing wildly as he danced along with the music before he broke into song.

“Has Buck never told him just how bad he sounds?” Val looked up at Everett from under his arm, her eyebrows almost meeting her hairline.

“We’ve all told him,” He shook his head. “He doesn’t seem to care that he sounds like a donkey.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” She rolled her eyes.

“Come on, let’s get a drink.”

Everett let his arm that was around her shoulder guide her back towards the bar, where Helen and Tattie were currently with Douglass and Benny DeMarco, Meatball at their feet. The poor dog wasn’t sure who he wanted to give his attention to at the moment, so he seemed to be moving between them.

“Cute date, Benny!” Val grinned, bending down to scratch behind Meatball's ears.

“I thought so too,” Demarco grinned. “He loves you girls.”

“Aww well we love him too.” Helen grinned, joining Val in giving the husky some attention.

“Tat?” Benny looked over at her. “Do you not love him?”

“Of course I love him,” She shook her head. “I just don’t love when his fur is all over the clubmobile.”

“She’s got a point, Benny. Last week my donut had fur all over it.” John Brady had joined their group, the Upstate New Yorker’s usual stoic demeanor seemed softer in the lighting of the Officers Club. Val suspected he had gotten a letter from his sweetheart back home.

Standing from where she was still crouched with the dog, she smoothed her skirt, accepting the martini glass from Everett with a grateful smile, his arm moving to wrap around her waist. He ducked down, lips pressed against her ear and spoke so only she could hear him.

“Want to take these drinks to go?”

“Go where?” She looked up at him.

“You trust me?”

She answered without hesitation.

“Yes.”

The pair made a quiet exit from the club; not saying goodbye to their friends, Everett led her out into the balmy summer air. He quickly lit two cigarettes, passing one to her as they walked, trying not to spill their drinks as they crossed the cobblestones and rocks that filled the paths between huts.

“Everett where are we going?”

“Well, that jeep right there for starters,” he grinned, tugging her along to the jeep that sat parked outside the officers hut. John Egan’s jeep.

“Is that Bucky’s?”

“Yea…”

“Does he know you’re borrowing it?”

“If I have to listen to him sing, this is the least he could do.”

He guided her to the passenger side, and once she was settled in the seat, he handed her his whiskey, before making his way around and into the driver's seat.

“Hang onto that for a minute, okay?” His words muffled as he spoke around the cigarette currently wedged between his lips.

“Alright… but you still haven’t told me where we’re taking the stolen jeep.”

“Borrowed, not stolen,” He winked. “And can’t I surprise you?”

“Sure, sure,” She grinned. “But I’m not sure what’s out here that I haven’t seen already.”

“I’m sure I can change that.” He teased, turning the key in the ignition and shifting into gear.

He drove them away from the Officers Club and the huts, down past the control tower and offices until finally he turned onto the road that led to the hardstands. Though he was a much better driver than Croz had been, Val still struggled to keep both drinks from spilling as he caught the occasional stray rock under the tires.

When the jeep finally slowed, coming to a stop, Val looked up and immediately gasped at the fort that they had parked in front of. She knew they were big, but to see one so close, and with only the headlights of the jeep shining on it, made the B-17 parked in front of her look both eerie and incredible. The words Just-A-Snappin were painted on the nose, and Val couldn’t help the surprised look on her face as she turned to Everett.

“This is yours!”

“Yea, this is my other girl.” He grinned, turning the engine off and pocketing the keys. “Thought you might like to see her.”

Val couldn’t help the shudder that ran through her when he called her his girl. That, coupled with the image of him in the pilot's seat, controlling something so incredibly powerful, made her press her knees together without even realizing she had done so.

“Wow… she’s stunning. I mean it, Ev!”

“She’s good to us,” He reached towards her and took the whiskey glass from her hand. “Gotten us there and back safe so far.”

“Well, she sounds pretty amazing,” Val turned in her seat to face him, tucking her legs up underneath her.

“Wanna go up?” He grinned.

“Now!?”

“No time like the present. Let me see if Ken left the stairs out.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, had he hopped out of the jeep, the tail end of his cigarette between two fingers, whiskey glass barely secure in the other three. She watched as he strutted over to the plane, checking for the stairs, before ducking back under the wing and shouting over to her.

“I’ll have to give you a boost, honey.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No stairs, so we're going to have to go up through the hatch.”

“Uh, Ev?” She was kneeling on the front seat of the jeep, one hand on the windshield to steady herself, the other clutching her half finished cocktail.

“Yea?”

“Where exactly is the hatch?”

He laughed outright, but made his way back over to her. Extending a hand once close enough, he helped her step out of the jeep, and walked her over to the plane. They ducked under the wing, and finally came to a stop off to the side, a small door on the belly of the plane with the words Jerry, if you can read this, start prayin painted on the side.

He reached up and pulled the small hatch open, and Val just stood there staring at him.

“Wait so, if you give me a boost how the hell are you getting in?”

“Don’t worry about me,” He drained his glass, gesturing for her to do the same. “I’ll get up same as I always do.”

Val nodded, and handed over her now empty martini glass, waiting as Everett placed it on the ground next to his own empty glass. They’d have to remember to grab them on the way out, lest Kenny and the ground crew find them in the morning.

“Okay,” Ev dusted his hands off on his slacks, coming to stand behind her. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be…”

“On three then, I’m going to just, pick you up.”

Turning over her shoulder to catch his gaze, she gave a wink before speaking.

“Don’t let me fall.”

“I won’t,” His hands came to rest gently on his waist. “Precious cargo.”

Adjusting his grip, he counted just in her ear, his warm breath fanning against her skin. When he got to three, she felt herself being lifted off the ground, and into the small hatch of the plane above her. Using her arms to help lessen her weight against him, she hauled herself up as best as she could given her skirt, until she was seated on the floor of the plane. The darkness that surrounded her was eerie, and she was about to say as much before Ev’s hand appeared in the hatch with a small flashlight.

“Here, hold this a minute while I get in.”

Val positioned the light on the opening for him, and watched in absolute awe as he gripped the top of the hatch and pulled himself up, swinging his legs into the plane in one fell swoop. The sheer strength that it must take for him to do that had fireflies dancing in her stomach at what he must be hiding under that neatly pressed uniform.

Once on his feet, he took the flashlight in one hand, and one of hers in the other, before guiding her along to what she could only assume was the cockpit.

“Down here’s the nose. Dougie and Bubbles camp out here when we’re up.” He pointed to a small desk, and what she recognized as a Norden Bombsight. She had seen it in reports in Chick’s office but never up close.

“I’ve seen those in the reports in Chicky’s office, but never up close.” Val whispered, running her fingers gently over the equipment.

“Wait… you call him Chicky?!”

“It’s a joke, really.” She turned to him. “I dared Tattie to do it in exchange for a pack of smokes and she’s never one to turn down a dare.”

“That’s actually the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Do not call him that to his face. Only the girls get to do it.”

“Oh I won’t. But I might have to dare Dougie one of these days.”

She swatted his shoulder, a gentle slap, but he caught her hand before she could pull it back. He turned and looked up, before gesturing with one arm to the small step up towards the cockpit.

“Careful, it’s one step but it’s big.”

Nodding, Val held onto his one hand, before using the other to balance as she stepped up and into the cockpit of the fort. This, she could already tell, was Everett’s favorite part of the plane.

“Left or right?” She called down to him.

“The right,” He appeared behind her, and as she shuffled into the seat on the right, he settled himself in the left seat. “Prettiest co-pilot I’ve ever had.”

“Oh is that what I am? Your co-pilot?”

“Well, you’re in the co-pilot's seat,” He grinned, reaching over and taking her hand. “Unless you’d rather be the pilot. Lots of responsibility when you’re the pilot.”

Val let her eyes sweep over all of the buttons and controls, shifts and knobs, dials and numbers. She couldn’t make sense of a single one of them, except for the yoke in front of where Everett sat. That much she knew was for steering the plane.

“How do you remember all of this?”

“A lot of practice. And a good co-pilot.”

“You and Via have been flying together all this time?”

“Yea. Dougie’s always been in the nose, and Bubbles and his lucky snow globe are always on the maps.”

“Sounds like a pretty reliable crew.”

“I’ve got room for one more, if you’re interested?”

“Oh really?”

“Yea…”

“What’s the job description? I’m already awfully busy pouring coffee for all the Flyboy’s and making sure everyone gets a donut. Meatball fur free, of course.”

Everett laughed softly and gave her arm a gentle tug, pulling her over into his lap in the pilot's seat. Her legs were stretched out to the side, feet just barely touching where she had been sitting. His arms came to rest around her waist, while one of hers wrapped around his neck. The other had a handful of the lapel of his jacket.

“Hey there.” She grinned.

“You are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her nose. “Have I told you that yet tonight?”

“Maybe, but I’m not opposed to hearing it again if you really think so.”

“Gorgeous.” A kiss to her nose. “Beautiful.” A kiss to her left cheek. “Lovely.” A kiss to her right cheek.

“Ev…” His name left her on a breath, evaporating into the air around them.

His hands slid up from her waist, the touch soft, gentle, the opposite of how she’d imagined he might pilot the plane they were sitting in, until they were cradling her face.

“Mine?” He pressed their noses together, left hand sliding down to cup her neck.

“Yours.”

That was all he needed to connect their lips, the sparks that had been dancing around them for weeks finally igniting. She tasted like gin and lemon juice; he of cigarettes and whiskey and neither could get enough of the other. The moonlight spilling through the windows of the cockpit offered just enough visibility that they could see each other, but the cover of darkness allowed for them to touch. To feel. As Val pulled away with a gasp for air, Everett chased her lips, pulling her back against him until he could feel every inch of her pressed against his body, her arms wound around his neck as she opened her mouth to him, allowing him that first step, that touch of his tongue against hers, as he continued to kiss the air from her lungs.

Her hands desperately fumbled with the buttons on his jacket until they had come open and she could shove it from his shoulders. Releasing his hold on her, he quickly leaned forward so he could pull his jacket the rest of the way off, carelessly tossing it onto the now vacant co-pilot’s seat. His nimble fingers returned the favor, slipping the button on Val’s blue jacket open before divesting her of it and allowing it to accompany his own.

She surged forward, pressing her chest against his, lips moving feverishly against his own, her hands dragging down his arms. She could feel the muscles under the fabric of his shirt, forearms and biceps flexing as his own hands moved over her and found purchase on various parts of her body.

“Fuck… Could kiss you all night.”

Dragging his mouth from hers with what felt like Herculean effort, he kissed his way across her cheek, down the sharp slope of her jaw to the juncture behind her ear. His mustache trailing behind each nip and gentle suck of her skin, her perfume lingering in their wake as he stirred parts of her that no one ever had before. A soft moan escaped her throat, her head tipped back exposing more of her neck for him to feast on.

“Ev… Everett…”

“Hmm, what baby, what is it?” His voice was muffled, lips moving back towards her own while his hands slid gently up her ribcage, fingers brushing the underside of her covered breasts. He pulled away to find her eyes, her gaze hazy as she focused on him in the dark, breaths coming in sharp inhales and heavy exhales.

He let his thumbs move back and forth from where they were, his fingers flexing as he tried to control every urge inside him that said it would be alright if he made love to her right here. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that, not to her, who deserved something more than a romp in the dark of his plane for their first time together. He’d give her whatever she asked for, while doing his best to remain a gentleman. At least, that was what he told himself. Until she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and softly guided his hand up, north of her ribs until his right hand was cupping her breast. Until she urged him on, silently begging him to continue touching her as best as they could in the cramped space.

“Don’t stop…” She whispered, threading her fingers into his hair and pulling him back to her mouth.

“Never.” He murmured against her, the hand that held her so reverently giving a gentle squeeze. “Not until you tell me to.”

Val’s hands slid from Everett’s hair; her nails raking against his scalp until they came down around his neck. Without thinking she was tugging at his tie and opening the buttons at the collar. The rational part of her brain was no longer thinking. Everything around her was Everett. His hands on her body, fingers tugging her shirt free from the waistband of her skirt so that he could touch her skin against skin. Just as his hands slid up her back, fingers brushing the band of her brassier, her lips found his neck, teeth scraping against his pulse.

“Val…” His head hit the back of the seat as she moved lower, her lips dragging across his exposed collar bones, leaving open mouth kisses up the column of his neck. “Christ, honey…”

Just as he popped open the first button on her blouse, a voice rang out from the open hatch, causing Val to wince and Everett to curse under his breath.

“Hello? Anyone up here?”

“Oh shit, is that Lemmons?” Her eyebrows flew straight to her hairline at the thought, and when Everett nodded in confirmation, she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. His hand came down over her mouth to muffle the sound, as he called back down to the ground crew chief.

“Uhh yea, Ken, it’s just me!”

“Captain Blakely? That your jeep out there?”

“Yea. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Val’s head dropped to Everett’s shoulder, her breathing uneven as she tried to suppress the giggles that hadn’t quite subsided yet. Getting caught up in the cockpit of a fort hadn’t been on her agenda for the evening, but neither had Everett’s surprise adventure. She knew it was only a matter of time before they kissed, and hell, she had been counting on it for some time now. What she hadn’t counted on was that once they started they wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Hey, you alright?” Ev’s hand was still pressed against her back, the warmth of his skin burning against her own.

“Yea, just wasn’t expecting to be interrupted,” She looked up at him, his hair a mess from where her hands had gotten to it. “Wasn’t expecting to almost… either.”

“I should have slowed us down,” He let his head fall back against the seat. “You deserve more than, well, the cockpit of a plane.”

“Well, I did tell you not to stop.” She grinned.

“And who am I not to oblige my girl when she wants something.”

“Another time,” She leaned forward to press her lips to his softly. “Until then, feel free to sneak me up here and kiss me as often as you’d like.”

“I’ll have to remember that. And not to bring a jeep next time so we don’t get busted.”

“Speaking of… we’ve got poor Kenny cooling his heels down there waiting for us.”

“Better button up.” He gestured to her blouse with a nod of his head and a wink.

“Same goes for you, Captain, because I made a real mess of you.” She grinned.

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled, pulling his hands away from her to do up the buttons on his shirt.

Val moved from his lap, doing her best to tuck her shirt back in, and put her jacket back on. She was sure her lipstick was smudged all over her face, and her hair had to look like a bird's nest by this point, but there was nothing she could do about that. She tried to tuck back whatever loose strands had fallen free, rolling her eyes as Everett smirked at her. He had decided against redoing his tie, instead stuffing it into his pocket. As he stood, eyes focused on her and not the area around him, his head came in contact with the ceiling above him, a dull echo resounding through the cockpit.

“Fuck!”

“Shit! Are you alright!”

He turned to her, and couldn’t help the smile on his own face as he watched her try and not laugh at him. Her hand was covering her mouth, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“I’m fine sweetheart,” He held out his hand to guide her down. “Now let’s go before Lemmons sends a search party.”

“Don’t let me fall…” she gripped his fingers tightly as he stepped down first, before he turned to guide her out of the cockpit, and back down towards the hatch.

“Let me go first, and I’ll help you once I’m down.”

“Okay…”

He made quick work of jumping from the plane, and once both feet were on solid ground, he turned back towards the hatch for her.

“Jump, honey. I’ve gotcha.”

“Easy for you to say.” She mumbled, before sitting herself on the floor of the plane, legs dangling below her in the night. With a deep breath, she pushed herself out of the plane, and true to his word, Everett had caught her around the waist.

“Told ya.” He winked, setting her back on the ground.

Brushing herself off, Val turned to find Ken Lemmon’s looking at her, eyes wide, lips quirked into a smirk.

“Evening, Miss Val.” He offered her a wave.

“Hi Ken. Did we wake you?”

“No. Got up to use the can, and uh, saw the jeep. Thought maybe Major Egan was up on the wing again.”

“Sorry… we didn’t mean to make trouble.”

“Hey, it’s the Captains fort, no trouble for me at all.”

“We’ll get out of your hair, let you get back to bed.” She grinned, hand searching for Everett’s as he stood next to her.

“Goodnight you two,” Ken gave a wave as he turned and made his way back to the ground crew's hut. “Don't forget your glasses!”

Everett winced and doubled back to where he had left their empty glasses from earlier, while Val turned and made her way to the jeep. Once he joined her, he passed them over to her while he dug the key from his pocket and started the engine. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on her knee, he drove them off back towards the huts. They passed a few stragglers leaving the Officers Club; Benny Demarco and Crank were sitting outside with Meatball, the dog taking off in a run after the jeep as it passed causing Benny to groan and both Val and Ev to laugh. He eventually got tired and began trotting his way back to where Benny was waiting.

When Everett pulled the jeep up in front of the Red Cross hut, he noticed that the lights were still on inside, which meant Tattie and Helen were either still lingering at the club or waiting up for Val.

“Looks like they might be waiting for you.”

“Gossip queens…” she shook her head with a fond smile.

Letting the two glasses rest on the seat between them, she turned to face him, hand reaching for his own. Just the feeling of his skin on hers had her wanting to make him turn the jeep around and go back to the hardstand and finish what they started.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

“You’re asking permission to kiss me? Everett, you’re practically wearing my lipstick, sweetheart.” She smiled, but leaned closer to him anyway, indulging him the moment.

“Please?” He whispered. “Valencia, come on, I’m trying to be a gentleman. Walk you to your door, kiss you goodnight…”

“Okay, okay!” She conceded. “Yes, Everett, you can kiss me goodnight.”

He met her in the middle, hand sliding up to cradle her face as their lips found each other. Her fingers slid through his already disheveled hair, nails scratching against his scalp. She could feel him shudder under her touch, and had to keep reminding herself that it would be worth it to wait just a little longer for him in that way.

Pulling back only when the need for air grew too strong, Everett let his thumb softly move against the apple of her cheek, his forehead pressed to hers.

“Go on, before Tattie comes out here looking for you.”

“Don’t wanna…”

“Me either, but there’s tomorrow, and I’ll be waiting for you. Promise.”

“Tomorrow…” She sighed, nuzzling into his warm palm.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning and we can walk to the mess together. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

With another soft kiss to her lips, Everett released his hold on her, allowing her to step out of the jeep and take the few steps to the door of the hut she resided in. He knew he wouldn’t get any sleep that night, thoughts of bright green eyes and a mischievous smile dancing in his mind's eye until the sun came up and he could see her again. He waited until she was safely inside the hut, the sound of Helen’s voice floating through the air as Val rejoined the girls finally. With a chuckle and shake of his head, he drove the jeep back to the Officers Hut where he found John Egan outside, smoking a cigarette with Douglass.

“So, how’d it go?” Dougie stood up, flicking the butt of his cigarette in the makeshift ashtray.

“Thanks for letting me borrow the jeep, Bucky.”

“Anytime you need me to break into song so you can make an escape with your gal, I’ve got it handled.”

“I think everyone else would be very opposed, but I appreciate the offer.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“You are, but that’s alright. You mean well.”

“Night Blakely…”

“Night, Major…”

Everett had one foot in the door before Douglass was pulling him into the light, his blue eyes looking at him with scrutiny.

“What?”

“Man, she really did a number on you! Was she wearing any lipstick when you brought her back?”

“Doug…”

“Victory Red is definitely your shade, Ev!” He cackled, heading for his bunk while Everett moved to the mirror that hung by the wall, checking his reflection with a smile. She had indeed left her mark, and if he had any say in the matter, he wanted her to do that for as long as Victory Red was in production.

“Goodnight, sweetheart…”

Part Three

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind

#eight to the bar #eight to the bar: ev & val #everett blakely #oc: valencia dirosano #Ev & Val #masters of the air #mota fanfic #everett blakely x ofc #everett blakely fic #just a snappin #hbo war #gina baker writes

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philsservice · 1 year ago

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theclairvoyage · 10 months ago

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Centrifugation: Chapter 9

Series Masterlist

The first psych appointment since the incident.

Chapter Warnings: psychological trauma, therapy, mentions of overdose, mentions of medications, mentions of depression and nightmares, allusions to previous traumatic event, fluff, smut, anal play (f receiving), oral (f receiving), face riding, unprotected p in v, a spank or two, more self-doubt.

WC: 3.4k

Monday, October 25th | 1000

“Call me when you’re done and I’ll come get ya, alright?” Joel requests as you prepare to hop out of his truck and enter the behavioral health facility. You turn to him, nodding and fake smiling. He catches on to your façade quickly.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, motioning you to come in for a kiss. He holds your chin softly with his free hand, other hand glued to the steering wheel.

He’s nervous, too, you can tell—fidgety, white-knuckling nervous. He spent the entire drive over here raking his hand through his stubble and hair, glancing at you almost every other minute. It’s odd. Normally, Joel is the stoic one, remaining ever calm to make you feel safe.

Slowly, you lean in closer to him, propping your elbow up on the middle compartment and tilting your head slightly right. Your gaze is locked on his—worried amber irises scan your face as he scoots forward to kiss you. He stops right before your lips meet and exhales audibly, puffing warmth on your face.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching to stroke his grown-out beard. He hasn’t trimmed in a while, but he looks good—small patches of gray are popping up near his mandible and chin, much to his dismay.

He closes his eyes at your soft touch, inhaling deeply and slowly. He cups your hand to his face and reopens his eyes, which are tranquil now.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replies, half-smile crinkling his cheek. He kisses you softly and sweetly for a few moments before deepening the kiss.

Most of your kisses escalate like this. Passion and desire overwhelm both of you, no matter the time or place. You pull back from the kiss, teeth pulling Joel’s lower lip with you before you let go. He groans.

“Fuck. Y’do this to me every time,” he huffs, eyes pointing downward at the erection fighting the zipper of his jeans. You smirk and peck his lips one more time before opening the door and hopping out.

“Thank you, Joel. I mean it,” you say earnestly, suddenly feeling shy. He stares at you for a moment with that look before shaking his head and waving you off.

“S’nothin’, you deserve it. I’ll see ya in a bit.” You blow him a kiss and shut the door before ambling your way to the entrance.

It’s gloomy in Omaha today. Overcast sky, little gusts of cold wind ripping through the trees and shaking the streetlights. Winter is creeping her way into Nebraska, frosty fingertips swiping ice along the ground overnight—much like the Nutcracker fairies in Fantasia. You don’t mind winter, though—long sleeves and pants, hot coffee, chilly air grazing your bronchioles—it’s a nice contrast from the muggy, excoriating summers here. And no bugs.

You’re a little late, which is unlike you—Joel was running behind this morning after spending much of it on the phone with Tommy and the high-maintenance Council Bluffs client, whose shrill voice you could hear from across the room. She’d been complaining about the boat dock needing redone, which wasn’t part of the original agreement she’d made with Miller Contracting. Tommy was at her house this morning working on the house remodel when she sprang it on him, bickering with him about cost and materials before he decided the older Miller would be a better choice to put her in her place.

You approach the front desk, an older woman with thick-rimmed glasses, crunchy blonde and gray-rooted curls piled on top of her head. She looks up and smiles at you, red lipstick-stained skin peeling from her chapped lips, before giving you a singsong hello, dear.

“Hi. Appointment for 10:00,” you say much less enthusiastically, spelling your first and last name as she searches for you on her computer screen.

“Great! Your doctor sent over all your notes, I just need you to answer some questions and sign a few release forms before we take you back. Have a seat right here and bring them up when you’re done,” she coos, pointing at a puffy green armchair facing the front entrance. She hands you a clipboard with several forms, pen attached by chain.

You scribble quickly on the forms, trying not to inconvenience the psychiatrist too much. The questions regarding recent sexual activity make you blush, fantasizing about your last few days with Joel. Yesterday, he’d perched himself between your legs and licked you to orgasm for what felt like hours—just the reminiscing makes your core tingle. Hopefully there’s more of that today—you have a feeling you’ll need it. You clench your thigh muscles and focus on the rest of the forms before taking them back up to the receptionist.

Shortly thereafter, a skinny nurse calls your name from a door beyond the front desk and takes you back into a hallway. He takes your blood pressure and weight before introducing you to the psychiatrist, Dr. Mandel. She’s quite petite, maybe five feet tall, with fiery red hair and freckles dotting her pale skin. She’s beautiful, almost elven. She shakes your hand warmly, pale green eyes taking you in as she ushers you into her office.

“Have a seat here. Do you need any refreshments?” she asks, pointing toward a comfy, orange chair facing the window in her office. She walks over to her desk to grab a few things before sitting in an identical chair opposite you. You shake your head.

“Thanks for being here. I know this is difficult—most patients do what they can to avoid these appointments,” she says matter-of-factly. You nod.

“I feel like it’s better for me to do this sooner rather than later,” you say, rubbing your arm nervously as you scan the room. It’s warm, accented with rich orange and red hues and natural light spilling into the space.

“Some doctors would agree with you, like myself. Most think social support is the best thing for healing after a traumatic event. Would you say you have that?” You nod, thinking of Joel, Keri, Trina, and the rest of your work group that would drop anything in a heartbeat for you.

“That’s good. My professional opinion is that social support and therapy have the best prognosis for healing and returning to a somewhat normal life, though you won’t be the same as before,” she says eloquently. She’s very animated, hands complementing her words and tone expressive. You feel comfortable around her, like she’ll tell you the truth no matter what.

“Have you experienced any suicidal thoughts, nightmares, or other troublesome mental episodes?” Your eyes sweep the ceiling as you recollect the nightmare you had the other day about Cedric. Picking nervously at the calluses on your palms, you nod.

“Just nightmares. I had a panic attack the day after it happened, but nothing else.” She jots some notes on a legal pad perched in her lap, nodding as you speak.

“I’ll prescribe you some pills for the nightmares and we can get something for the panic attacks, if you feel it’s necessary,” she informs you, gauging your reaction.

“The nightmares, for sure. I don’t think the panic attacks will be a problem until I have to go back to work,” you tell her, anxiously imagining walking through the front doors of the plasma center, picturing Cedric’s lifeless body splayed on the cold floor.

“I’ll prescribe something for that just in case—you might think right now you’ll be fine, but seeing the area where something traumatic happened can reopen psychological wounds.” You nod grimly and admit to yourself that you were worried about that when you do eventually have to return to work.

The remainder of the appointment consists of her asking questions for her assessment and teaching you coping strategies. She diagnoses you with acute stress disorder, though mild. You’re not surprised—you were stabbed and somewhat witnessed a homicide. You’re worried how much worse you’d be if you didn’t have Joel taking care of you—would you have even made it here today?

Dr. Mandel prescribes you a benzodiazepine for nightmares and an antidepressant for panic attacks. She warns you about taking the nightmare medicine with your pain pills.

“Don’t drive after and make sure you’re in a safe space until you know how your body will react to both,” she warns, tone serious. “I’ve had one too many patients overdose while taking both—please be careful.” You nod. You don’t want to join Cedric anytime soon. She shakes your hand as she guides you out to the front, where you set up your next appointment with the cheerful receptionist. Two weeks out, right after you come back from Chadron. You might need psychiatric help after dealing with your mother for a week.

Perched on a bench outside the clinic, you call Joel. He answers after the second ring.

“All done, baby? How’d it go?” he asks. You can hear the echo of his truck door shutting in the garage. You stare at the puffy gray clouds traversing the sky, wind pushing them along faster than normal.

“Pretty good, actually. She gave me some medicine for the nightmares, so we’ll see if that helps,” you say, trying to make your voice more cheerful than you feel. Blah best describes the way you’re feeling today—much like the weather.

“I’m glad. Don’t like seein’ ya upset when you should be havin’ happy dreams,” he says, turn signal clicking in the background.

You smirk as you think of a witty response. “I have happy dreams all the time, like today when I was filling out the forms and remembered what I was doing yesterday around this time,” you murmur coyly. A deep, devious chuckle escapes his lips.

“We can arrange that again, y’know,” his syrupy Southern voice croons, dipping an octave lower and making your stomach flip in excitement.

“Please,” you say, almost whining.

“Mmm. Can’t wait. S’my favorite dessert. I’ll be there in 5,” he says before hanging up. Your pussy aches. You love that he loves tasting you—no man in your life before has ever lapped you up the way he does.

Right on time, Joel pulls up in the circle of the clinic. He eyes you as you walk up, getting out so he can open the passenger door for you. You throw your arms around him and pull him into a hug unexpectedly, which makes his heartbeat quicken for a few seconds.

“Miss me already? Was only an hour or so, baby,” he chuckles, kissing your hair.

“Just my way of saying thank you.” He pulls back and kisses your nose before swatting your ass.

“Can’t to show you how I say thank you,” he murmurs into your ear before trotting over to the driver’s side door. You shudder. You won’t make it home if he keeps this up.

Monday, October 25th | 1235

“Oh my god, fuck, Joel,” you cry, nails scraping his scalp as he sucks on your needy clit. You’re writhing, squirming in his iron grip as he works you into a fit of ecstasy. He moans into your core.

“Love hearin’ ya talk, baby. Tell me how good it feels,” he urges you, shaking his head side to side as his mouth latches onto your folds. His middle and index finger prod at your entrance teasingly. You roll your hips toward him, urging them closer, but he moves back ever so slightly. You groan in frustration.

“Hold on for me, darlin.’ I’ll give ya what ya need.”

Your nerves are in overdrive, his warm tongue and vibrations of his voice creating a steady stream of arousal that leaks from your pussy slowly. He knows just when to decrease the pressure of his licking and sucking, trying to keep you from coming until the very last second. Not being able to reach your high is driving you insane, but you know it’s worth it.

Suddenly, he pulls mouth off you and rolls onto his back. Confused and irritated, you sit up and cock an eyebrow at him.

“C’mere,” he says. “Want you to sit on my face.”

Your eyes enlarge as you register what he just said to you. Arousal pools low in your belly, and you don’t hesitate to straddle his shoulders. He loops his arms around you, one hand gripping your ass as the other spreads your lips apart.

He looks up at you, mystified at seeing you from this angle. You’re blocking the light, casting a shadow on his face, and allowing him to see everything. The underswell of your breasts topped by taut nipples, head tipped back in anticipation, hair swept over your shoulder, one hand gripping the curls on his scalp for dear life. A brambly growl escapes his throat at the sight.

Needing to taste you, he pulls you down onto his warm tongue and feasts. You cry out loudly, involuntarily grinding your hips onto his face. This spurs him on even more, soundwaves from his muffled groan vibrating into your pussy. You lean back with a moan, the pleasure taking away what stability your thighs have left. Shaky legs encase Joel’s head. A few more swipes of his tongue send you over the edge. You come hard and with a hoarse moan on Joel’s face. He drinks it up like his favorite whiskey, getting drunk off you.

Using the headboard as leverage, you lift your hips off his face and collapse onto your stomach. Panting, you hear Joel get off the bed and walk over to your side. He brushes your hair off your back and kisses the back of your neck and moves down further, teeth scraping the skin of your scapulas and midback.

“Ready f’me, baby?” he asks in between kisses. You hum in approval and get on all fours, sticking your ass out for him. He growls.

“Fuck. I love your ass,” he tells you, cracking a hand down on one cheek. You yelp in surprise, followed by a playful giggle. He grips your cheeks and lifts them up, squeezing them together as he admires you.

“And this pretty fuckin’ pussy. God damn. Can’t believe you’re mine,” he croons. At some point he ditched his boxers, now sliding the head of his cock up and down your wet folds. He pauses at your entrance and folds his chest over your back to murmur in your ear.

“Tell me, baby—are you mine?” his gravelly voice trickles into your ear, giving you goosebumps.

“Yes, Joel—fuck, I’m yours,” you whine back. He pushes himself off your back and prods himself at your wet hole, pushing in slowly. You squeak, voice unable to respond any other way to the stretch of him. He bottoms out and waits for your muscles to relax before moving again. After a few beats, your walls loosen their death grip on his cock ever so slightly.

“Good fuckin’ girl, just relax for me,” he soothes, pulling out of you slowly. He pushes into you with finesse, wanting to work you into another orgasm slowly and carefully. He picks up his pace after a bit, gripping your shoulder for leverage as he digs into you. You almost scream at the depth he’s hitting but find that your voice is still unable to make any sounds—you’re so full, each thrust compressing your lungs and pushing what little air you have out in heavy pants.

Joel removes one of the hands from your back and sucks on his thumb before pressing it lightly near the tight entrance of your ass. He slows his pace, needing your permission before he continues.

You crane your neck to look at him, and god damn, he looks fucking good. Salt and pepper curls bedraggled. Sweat beading on his tan forehead. Looking at you like you’re Venus reincarnated. He lifts an eyebrow at you. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna, baby.”

“It’s okay,” you promise him, giving him permission. You’ve never done this before, but this is the right person to try something new with. You know he wouldn’t push your boundaries without your consent.

“Tell me to stop if it’s too much,” he says, swirling his thumb around your ass. It feels good—it’s foreign, but it’s pleasurable. You instinctively tighten around his cock as he prods his thumb further, making him hiss.

“Fuck, darlin’—gonna squeeze me to death,” he moans. You try and relax, but the anticipation of what’s coming has your muscles in protective overdrive. He leans over and spits on your asshole, the warm liquid making you jump a bit.

“Alright, baby, you just say the word if it hurts,” he reassures you. You nod, ready to experience this with him.

Sharp pain shoots through your spine at the first push, and you clench your muscles in response. A soft cry escapes your lips. Joel pauses, unable to tell if it’s from pain or pleasure.

“Keep going,” you urge him. He pushes his thumb just a bit further. Pain ebbs into achy pleasure as your muscles adjust, then white-hot pleasure as he picks up the rhythm of his thrusts again.

“Oh fuck, that feels good,” you moan. The tandem of pleasure and pain pull a new kind of orgasm from you, ripping you to pieces from the inside out. You collapse onto your elbows as you quiver, both holes contracting around Joel. He curses your name and collapses over you, emptying inside you with a ragged groan. He’s heavy, but not enough to suffocate you. His torso is warm, draped over your sweaty back. With a groan, he pulls himself out of you and stands up, rolling you over and grabbing your hand.

“Shower?” he says, pulling you into his chest. He doesn’t let you respond before he starts kissing you.

“Yeah, you stink,” you tease, scrunching your nose at him as you lead him into the bathroom. He chuckles and rolls his eyes as he follows you.

Monday, October 25th | 1421

You’re in Joel’s kitchen, sipping some water as he makes a late lunch for the two of you. He decided on some chicken fried rice after you told him about a thousand times that he could pick what to eat this time. You’re staring at him absentmindedly and he catches you.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby?” he quizzes you, pushing the rice and eggs around the sizzling wok as he stares at you. You let out a big sigh.

“I think I need to go back to my apartment tonight and try to be alone, to see if I can do it,” you say quietly, somewhat worried about his response. He sets the spatula down and turns to you, expressing concern, but not upset.

“I’m not gonna push ya either way, but what made you think that?” he asks, tilting his head toward his shoulder and leaning against the island as he evaluates you.

“I just… don’t want to be too dependent on you. I’m so happy when I’m with you, and y-you’ve done so much for me. I just don’t want to spend all this time with you and then get to a point where I can’t be on my own,” you say, exasperated. You’re picking at the callouses on your palms again, gauging his response through worried eyes.

“I understand, baby. This is a weird situation for both of us. I’d prefer it if you stayed here tonight since you’re tryin’ your new meds, but you’re the boss here,” he reminds you, putting both hands up. He’s right, it wouldn’t be a bad idea—you just haven’t been at your apartment in what feels like forever and have this sense of dread returning there, like it’ll pull you back into the past.

“That’s smart. I’m not sure why I feel like this. Just a lot in my head right now,” you say, looking up at the kitchen light as your throat starts to tighten. He pulls you in for a warm embrace, rubbing your back lightly through your shirt.

“Told ya, this healing is gonna take a while. I’m never gonna tell ya to leave—I’ll come stay at your place, ‘f you want me to. Just want you to be okay, baby,” he murmurs into your hair. God, he’s too good to you. You’ve made up your mind. Pulling back, you kiss him chastely.

“Okay. I’ll stay here tonight, and then tomorrow I’ll stay at my apartment by myself, just to make sure I can do it. And then you can stay the night after. Cool?” You lift a thumbs up and raise your eyebrows at him. He mirrors you.

“Absolutely, baby. Good call. Let’s eat, huh?”

“Please.”

Taglist: @burntheedges, @syd-djarin, @anoverwhelmingdin, @danaispunk

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #centrifugation #joel miller x you

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