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lazyjellyfish300 · 1 month

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Gentleman part 4🌼💌

AU Geneticist CEO!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Intern College Student! Reader

Synopsis: Noir speeds steadily towards your sugar daddy's grand estate in the countryside after rescuing you from the college football game from hell... Word count 6.9k

A/N: I'm so grateful for the support on this fic and others 🖤 thank you for your patience. 🖤🥰🫶🏽 This art by blahhberry on insta is Dr. O'Hara's face claim btw. 🥰 I put my whole heart into this chapter so pretty pls let me know what you think 😁🥰

CW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(P IN V, FINGERING, ORAL F RECEIVING), SUGAR DADDY RELATIONSHIP (BOSS/EMPLOYEE), POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, OOC MIGUEL, LEGAL AGE GAP, READER IS MID-LATE TWENTIES ISH, MIGUEL LATE THIRTIES, TALK OF ASSAULT, DRUNKENNESS, COMFORT, FLUFF, INSECURE READER, LITTLE ANGST

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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You wake up from your nap as you hear the sound of gravel crackling under the tires of the Mercedes as you come up to a long dirt road. Your eyes widen as you approach a tall, ornately crafted black iron gate nestled between two large trees. Noir leans out of the window, punching in an access code and waving a badge with an elaborate two step verification process before the gate opens slowly towards the car with a loud creak and a groan, a small cloud of dust being kicked up in its wake. Noir drives forward, down a long, winding driveway.

You squint and your mouth falls open at the sight in front of you. Seemingly endless expansive miles of greenery in what appears to be a private vineyard and gardens, the bushes neatly trimmed and groomed with tiny flowers blossoming from the branches, vines weaving neatly in intricate patterns up a gargantuan, ivory colored estate with a black roof and dim lights, a gorgeous stone fountain with teal lights running in the front of it.

But, Noir makes a right hand turn, traveling down another twin driveway that runs further down, a little deeper into the trees. When you finally reach the end of it, there's a comparatively smaller, but still gorgeous farm style country house nestled in the middle of several tall trees.

Noir pulls into the garage, your eyes widening at the two fancy vintage sports cars and the two private golf carts parked in the other vacant spots. Noir gets out, opening the backseat door and helping you. You stumble, your vision still chaotic from the leftover booze in your system, holding onto Noir as he coaxes you inside the house.

Your mouth falls open as you enter the gorgeous home. Polished wooden floors and warm cream colored walls are the interior. You take a deep breath, the smell of fresh linen and florals flooding the house mixed with the crisp air of the trees outside.

"Welcome to the guest house, madam." Noir says with a hum. "Here, remove your shoes please. All outside shoes except bedroom slippers should be kept in this room."

He helps you pull off your dirty shoes, leaving them in the mudroom next to the garage door as he brings you further inside.

There's a huge, beautiful kitchen with a large island in the middle with granite countertops, a large bowl of fresh lemons as the centerpiece, giving an air of zest from the delectable citrus. Your socks gently glide along the furnished shiny wooden floors, reminding you of when you'd slide around the house in your socks as a little kid.

Noir brings you to the living room, an enormous TV mounted on the wall above a stone fireplace, a couple of candles burning quietly on the mantle giving it a peaceful glow. He sits you on a large, cushy sectional couch that could seat a dozen people with tons of fancy decorative pillows with gray accents, throwing a fuzzy blanket over your legs and turning on the TV to your favorite comfort series.

"Getting you water and food, miss." Noir gives you a thumbs up as he disappears into the kitchen. "Madge! You here?"

A faint call comes from outside. You sit up on the couch, craning your neck a little bit. A small stout woman is working in the gardens outside. You stand up, walking to the window, your mouth falling open again as you notice a gorgeous square swimming pool with a connected hot tub, colorful lights illuminating the bottom of it.

There are several rows of fruit trees: apples, peaches, pears, nectarines, and apricots, and a vegetable garden with tomatoes, eggplant, carrots, pumpkin, squash, cauliflower, potatoes, zucchini, cucumbers, and radishes where Madge is kneeling, standing up and brushing the dirt off her apron as she brings a basket of freshly harvested veggies inside.

"What's on the menu tonight, Mrs. Madge?" Noir asks the jolly cook/housekeeper pleasantly, starting to fiddle with a Rubik's cube he takes out of his trenchcoat pocket as he leans casually against the kitchen countertop.

"Homemade Tomato Bisque, Copycat Cheesy Wisconsin Cauliflower soup from Zupas, and Chicken Orzo with bread bowls!"

"Mm-mm! Sounds delightful as always, Mrs. Madge. Just letting you know we have a guest tonight." Noir nods in your direction.

"Oh!"

Madge turns to look at you, offering you a friendly handshake. "Pleased to meet you, miss."

"This is her, by the way." Noir says, holding his hand against his mouth as though he was telling her a secret.

"Ohhh?! Well in that case welcome, welcome!" Madge bubbles with a huge grin. "I'm so happy to finally meet you. The doctor is quite fond of you...I've heard nothing but glowing things. Please, make yourself at home. Oh, careful dearie!"

She rushes to your side as you stumble a little, still in a daze from earlier. Noir signals to Madge discreetly that you've been drinking.

"Ohhh...well in that case we better get some soup in your system ASAP. Come with me."

She leads you back to the couch, putting each of your legs up on the cushions so you are reclined back, stacking pillows behind you and tucking you in once again, making sure the TV is at a good volume.

Noir returns with some ice water, and Madge reappears a short time later with a tray with a brimming bread bowl of your favorite soup out of the three she cooked, a slice of freshly baked french bread for dipping, a small bowl of the reddest strawberries you've ever seen, and a small garden salad with the freshly picked vegetables on the side.

You hum graciously, and thank her enthusiastically, each sip of the divine soup bringing you slowly back to life by the spoonful as you watch TV, the agonizing ache in your head slowly dissipating.

Noir sits in one of the leather recliners with his soup and his Rubik's cube, eating silently for a bit before he checks in with you.

"You feeling better, missy?"

You nod, pressing a finger to your lips as you swallow a bite of the French bread.

"M-much better...thank you."

Noir nods, tweaking one of the sides of the Rubik's cube. "You gave me quite the scare back there, miss. Those bastards at the game went too far this time."

You hold back a shudder, your head pounding at the cloudy reminder. "Yeah....I'm sorry you had to be in the middle of it. It's all my fault."

"Now..." Noir shakes his head, setting down his Rubik's cube. "It is not your fault, missy. Being assaulted is never the victim's fault. I'm just doing my job. To be honest, you're one of the first girls the doctor has had that have actually treated me like a human being instead of a glorified chauffeur or personal assistant."

You faintly smile at that, not too keen on hearing about Miguel's exes, but your ego slightly boosted from Noir's glowing praise of you.

"R-really?"

"Yes ma'am." Noir says with a hum, taking a generous slurp of his soup. "You are an absolute gem to be around, miss. I think you underestimate yourself and discount your worth too much. The other ladies were usually pleasant in the beginning, but, that quickly wore off over time and I kind of became more of a caddie they could boss around."

You nod, eyes sympathetic towards Noir.

"Well, if I ever become bossy or short with you, I give you full permission to say, 'you know what y/n, you're being a bitch.'"

Noir gives a low chuckle. "I could never refer to you in that way, miss. But, I appreciate it. I'll definitely correct you, but perhaps using a milder way of putting it."

He grins and turns his attention to the screen. "So, what are we watching this evening, madam?"

"Umm, looks like an older movie, Casablanca, I think it's called?"

"Ahhh, good taste, madam. I love this one." Noir sets his empty bowl aside, reclining in his seat as he watches the movie next to you.

"What are you kids watching?" Madge pokes her head in with a smile.

"One of the greatest romances of all time: Casablanca, Mrs. Madge." Noir hums. "Come on, pop a squat and stay a while."

"Oh I'd love to!" Madge beams at the kind invitation and smile you offer her, scooting over a bit on the couch as all three of you enjoy your evening movie and warm soup.

-----

Hours later in the middle of the night, a black sports car rolls in the driveway. The hum from the garage opening doesn't disturb your slumber on the couch as Miguel arrives home. He steps out, rubbing his shoes on the mat before slipping them off and venturing inside, still clad in his dress clothes with a tight dress shirt layered underneath a black cashmere sweater with tight dress slacks that highlighted his strong thighs.

He does his usual visual scan of his home as he enters making sure everything is in order, giving a warm smile to Madge who's doing inventory in the kitchen.

"Evening, Mrs. Madge." Miguel says pleasantly, opening the fridge and grabbing a fancy artesian bottled water. He takes a generous sip, sighing as the cold water wakes him up. "You're not staying too late are you? On your way out soon?"

"Yes, doctor." Madge hums, clicking her pen, setting down her clipboard on the countertop.

Miguel nods, taking one more sip. "Is she here?"

"On the couch." Madge nods in the direction of the living room. "Poor thing passed out after dinner. I think the soup did her good after that awful day she had."

Miguel feels the rage rushing back into his body at the reminder. He had spent nearly an hour on the phone with the campus police and the dean of the university. Justice was going to be temporarily delayed, due to the ongoing investigation that was just opened and your testimony still needed to fill in any gaps. He knew that would be something quite heavy for you to deal with, and the most important thing for you to do now, would be to rest.

"Her room is ready then, all of the clothes and items I requested have been delivered?"

"Yes doctor." Madge answers. "Her closet is stocked with all the clothing items you sent me and jewelry , underwear, and shoes. The monogrammed towels and robe are in her bathroom. Fresh linens on the bed in the color you requested. I also made sure each bathroom has enough toiletries. I haven't had a chance to buy all of her beauty and makeup items she said she wanted just yet, since I didn't realize she was coming tonight, but Noir said he can do it in the morning after breakfast. Oh, and a fresh set of pajamas and slippers and her welcome presents on her bed for tonight."

"Good, good..." Miguel nods. "That should be just fine for now, thank you Madge. I do apologize for all the last minute list of things on short notice but thank you for getting everything together that you could."

Madge nods with a smile and goes speechless as Miguel slides her two envelopes, both containing checks with several thousand more dollars tacked on than normal.

"Your payday early." Miguel says with a smile. "Make sure Noir gets the other one for me, will you?"

"Oh doctor." Madge clutches the envelope to her chest with a sigh. "Bless you...no words just....just bless you so much. I'm so honored to work for you."

Miguel smiles, giving her a squeeze on the shoulder. "Pleasure's all mine, Madge. Thank you for everything you do for my family and for taking care of my girl tonight. I appreciate your service and your loyalty."

"Well, Doctor O'Hara you have this old lady's allegiance for life! Of course, of course! Please call me if you need anything. See you in the morning, Doctor!" Madge chimes as she walks out the door, jingling her keys.

Miguel watches her leave fondly then sighs and rolls up his sleeves as he approaches you on the couch, turning on the lamp. The dim, yellow light illuminating the soft burning mocha of his eyes as he looks lovingly upon your sleeping silhouette on his couch. He crosses over to you quietly, sitting down next to you, taking care not to shift the cushions too much under his weight and turning off the TV that was still running.

You groan a little, shaking your head in your sleep and your eyes flickering open slowly at the feeling of a man's hand stroking your jaw, your eyes elated when you realize it's Miguel.

"Hi, sweetheart." He whispers, giving you a smile. He leans down, positioning himself over you, inhaling as he pulls you into a tight hug. You feel your body flood with happiness as you nuzzle into his chest, intoxicating woodsy cologne wafting from his neck.

"Missed you so so much..." You mumble, the cashmere of his sweater tickling your cheek, your tone rasped from sleep.

"I missed you more, cariño..." He holds you tighter for another moment in silence before he pulls away a little bit, still keeping his face close to yours as he lets you lay back on the pillow, keeping his knuckles underneath your chin.

"I'm sorry to wake you." He says kindly, eyes raking over you for signs of hurt. "I just need to make sure you're okay."

You release a shaky breath, your body shivering at the memory. "I...I don't know. I mean, physically, I'm a lot better now...I just..."

Miguel holds your hands in his, occasionally letting his palms brush over your forearms with tender strokes. "It's okay. You don't need to figure out anything right now, cariño...." He gestures for you to come closer.

"I've taken the liberty of speaking to the police and the dean of the university myself. I will make sure those roommates of yours never come near you ever again."

You feel a chill down your spine. Even though you were angry and hurt, you felt nervous at the idea of them being punished. Surely now you would forever be blacklisted in their minds, a permanent subject of their torture from here on out, blaming you for their consequences despite them being a direct result of their actions.

"Miguel, you don't need to do all that..." You say cautiously. "I mean, I really appreciate you having my back and all, it's just, I don't know how I'm going to survive the rest of the semester. If they didn't like me before they definitely aren't going to now..." You shudder at the thought.

"Let me worry about that." Miguel says firmly, resting both of his hands on yours. "You won't need to worry about what happens next or seeing them again because I'm going to keep you here with me. You'll live here in the guest house until I know for certain that it's safe to send you back to the university."

"Oh..." You shake your head slowly. "No....no Miguel, I couldn't do that to you. I don't want to be a burden...."

"Stop."

Miguel silences you with a kiss, releasing a deep sigh, the chill from his bottled water brushing gently against your lips.

"Eh....sorry...what I mean is, I already have arranged for everything you need to stay here. I would much rather know that you're safe with me than send you back there. And you are never a burden to me."

Before you can say anything again, he pulls you back in for another kiss, making this one last a tad longer than the first, you feel yourself melt when his hand grabs your waist with the other one holding the back of your neck so you could be pressed a little tighter against him.

Miguel feels a little fire burning in him, but he knows he needs to be patient, especially with everything you went through tonight. However you feel yourself giving into your desires, the feeling of his lips on yours leaving you with a hungry sensation, having him so close to you and the way he touched you too electric to stop.

The next time your lips meet, you prod your tongue gently in the open space between his lips. Miguel groans softly, unable to turn you down and opens his mouth, permitting you to explore it with your tongue. His breath is fresh, the unique, succulent taste of his mouth paired with his cologne just steering you further down a road of temptation.

Miguel is a little flustered, having underestimated that the intensity of the fire burning within you was actually the same, if not bigger than the one inside of him. He chuckles softly with his forehead against yours,

"Now..." he raises one of his hands, laying the back of his knuckles against your cheek, his thumb delicately swiping the area under your eyes. "We should probably get you in bed, yeah?"

You exhale softly, "Okay."

Miguel smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips and sweeping you up into his arms without warning.

"Miguel?" You giggle at the gesture. Miguel smirks as he approaches the staircase, walking up it with you cradled against his chest. When you reach the top of the staircase, you notice the living room where you just were is visible on the other side. Miguel makes a left, walking to the end of the hallway, carefully setting you down before opening the door.

You feel your breath get taken away as you look at the large king sized bed, a thin white canopy drapes across all four corners of the bedposts, making it look like a luxurious cloud. Across from the bed is a fancy modern fireplace behind a panel of glass with a shiny marble mantle piece and another large television mounted above it.

On the far end of the room are French doors with glass panels covered by cream colored curtains that lead to a balcony with a small bistro patio set with two chairs and a table, perfect for reading or a cup of tea that overlooks the garden and swimming pool.

Miguel smiles at your reaction, watching you as you marvel at the beautiful room before taking you by the hand to show you the rest of it.

"Here is your bathroom..." He opens a door that's to the left of the fireplace. Your mouth falls open yet again at the open space, white marbled floors with a counter to match, a vanity with an ornate mirror, a shower with cream colored tiles and a waterfall shower head, an ivory golden claw foot bathtub and a separate water closet for the toilet which came with a bidet.

Miguel opens the drawers of the vanity and the bathroom sink, showing you where all the toiletries were: your favorite shampoo, hair conditioner, other hair care products you needed, as well as bars of soap that were both scented and non scented depending on your preference, moisturizer, makeup wipes, toothpaste, and a new fancy electric toothbrush that was charging next to the sink.

"Madge and Noir will have the rest of your beauty products you wrote down by tomorrow morning, as well as all of your medications you need." He says with a smile.

"And now back to the room..." He shuts off the bathroom light and guides you to the door to the right of the fireplace this time, leading to a walk in closet.

There's a gorgeous diamond chandelier on the ceiling, the far end of the room has a ceiling to floor mirror, on either side are racks of clothes. Dresses, sweaters, blouses, skirts, pants, even work clothes for school or work and something for every occasion, all matching the descriptions and brands you listed in your contract.

There's racks with several pairs of shoes on display nearly arranged ranging from fancy heels, to beachy sandals, casual street footwear, and boots. In the middle of the room is a cream colored ottoman sitting bench which is pushed up against one of the biggest jewelry cabinets you've ever seen.

When you open it, there's several black velvet rows with little LED lights that highlight the pieces on display. There are four elegant Cartier watches, Alex and Ani bangles with all your favorite charms you pre-selected that fit your personality and aesthetic, more Pandora bracelets and necklaces like the one Miguel originally gifted you that you can swap out depending on your mood, Swarovski earrings and necklaces adorning the holders, and a variety of Dior rings in the styles you selected.

You're damn near in tears from all of this attention, all of this generosity bestowed on you. Turning this night around from one of the worst to one of the best you've had in your entire life. Feeling like you must be in heaven, must be dreaming and not sure what you did to be so lucky. You turn around, jumping into Miguel's arms.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you...." you whisper, closing your eyes.

Miguel's eyes widen in surprise at first, but feels his heart melt as he bends down, bringing his hands to the back of your thighs, warmth pooling in his belly when you wrap your legs around him like a koala as he carries you to the bed. He gently sets you down on it. You feel the mattress dip below you gently. You run one of your hands along it, the fibers massaging against your skin.

You can already tell this bed will probably pose a huge threat of making you late in the mornings, with how heavenly and soft it feels. Nothing like the stiff, cardboard, twin sized mattress in your dorms that had been used and recycled between God knows how many users.

Miguel smiles, leaning over you to hand you his housewarming gift neatly packaged in a gorgeous gift basket tied with a red bow. Silk pink pajamas monogrammed with your initials that matches the robe in your bathroom, with fuzzy white slippers, as well as chocolate, sparkling champagne, bottled water, mints, Burt's Bees Chapstick, lotion, and some healthy chips.

"Here..." He pulls out one more bottle from the gift basket of room spray, giving a small spritz to the bed.

"For your pillow." He grins.

"It's lavender and vanilla, a nighttime medley. I use the same kind for my daughter, Gabi, on her pillows... It's helped her stay calm and sleep much better at night. Let me know if it helps with your headache." He lovingly strokes your cheek, setting the spray on your bedside table.

"You can put anything you'd like in here." He opens the bedside drawers of the nightstand. "There's a Kindle and iPad for your personal use. They are yours to have. My mother wanted you to have her Kindle because she went and bought herself a new one for Christmas." He chuckles.

"But this one is still extremely nice. Feel free to download whatever books you like to read on it. I trust you not to go too crazy." He winks.

"There's also tissues, allergy medicine, some melatonin, vitamins, spare chargers if you need them, the remote to the TV is also in here, along with the one that controls the temperature, lights, and humidifier. I just ask that you be conservative with the temperature changes. Usually around 70-72 degrees is more than comfortable for this room."

He brings his hands to your thighs, his smile gradually melting, eyes going a little half lidded as he runs them slowly up and down.

"Anything...else I can do for you before I let you go to sleep, love....?"

At this point, you don't care about your headache. You just want him. Right now. After receiving this absolute princess treatment and pretending to ignore all of the lingering tension between you two, it felt more than right to spend a little more time with him tonight. The dim lights and the luxurious room and mansion in the middle of his countryside property was just pushing you closer and closer to him by the minute.

"You're not staying with me...?" You whisper, a faint tease to your voice.

Miguel gives you a shadow of a smirk, letting his hands run a little further up your thighs, coming to very gently grip over the curve of your ass.

"I'll be in the room across the hall..." He says gently. "But..." He leans his face closer to you, lightly pressing his forehead against yours. "I can stay with you, if you wish."

You exhale softly as you feel his hands start to knead the plump flesh. "Yes please..."

He smiles, his eyes closed with his forehead still pressed against yours. He softly lifts your chin with his fingers, bringing your face to look at him. The look he's giving you could pretty much make you fall in love with him instantly.

Soft, silky orbs of the most decadent chocolate brown lovingly staring back into yours, with the faintest hint of hunger, something seductive and fiery that he was holding back behind them. You were more than curious to find out.

His lips part and he leans in, softly leaving his breath in your mouth, his lips barely ghosting over yours,

"Dime exactamente todo lo que quieres... ahora." He purrs.

You moan softly, tangling your fingers in his hair, making him sharply inhale more oxygen to his lungs, your body language pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

"Miguel...."

"Tell me....exactly, everything you want me to do, right now, beautiful....." He repeats, his voice hovering above a whisper. "I won't break the rules unless I have your clear, absolute consent...." He runs both palms against the side of your neck.

"Hmmm...? Dime, cariño...." (Tell me dear)

You feel your face get hot, biting your lip as you look up into his beautiful face. "Stay with me tonight..."

"And...?" He whispers with a smile, tickling your cheek.

"Make love to me..."

Miguel feels his body practically light on fire. He knew damn well that's what he was hoping for but hearing you say it out loud just made his excitement triple by the minute.

"Yeah....?" He stops smiling, biting his lip as he gently and ever so softly squeezes your cheeks between his fingers.

"Want me to fuck you, pretty girl....?" A lustful switch activates in his brain. He clenches his teeth hungrily.

"Please..."

He leans in, pressing sweet kisses to your neck, you groan and let your head fall back, giving him more access to your throat and chest, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He nuzzles his face into you, full lips brushing the shell of your ear as his hands run up and down your shoulders and arms.

"Have you done this before, my love....?"

"Mmm..." Your face is warm again as you nod slowly at him.

"I-I have..."

Miguel smiles, leaning in to kiss you passionately, sliding his tongue into your mouth, his hand grasping your chin, holding you still so he can make it deep, a subtle demonstration of his claim over you.

"Have you ever been with a man like me?" He asks softly.

You exhale carefully, voice slightly quivering. "N-No...."

He hums at this, a little smugness in his tone. "Well...if you're still sure, baby.... I'd love to show you....what it's like...to be with me. I'll show you just how a pretty thing like you should be treated..."

Your body is on the verge of exploding. "....Yes.....?"

"Yes, lovely girl..."

He smirks as he gently rubs his nose against yours, pausing for a moment when he notices your jacket. It's not in line with the usual style of clothes you wear. His brow furrows curiously as he tugs at it with his fingers.

"Whose is this?" He asks in a low tone, a slight hint of sternness.

"Oh-um..." Your face gets hot. "T-the guy at the game. Made me wear it. I was freezing. I'm, I'm so sorry...I should've said no...."

Miguel feels a slight annoyance at this, but he keeps his voice low, keeping a handle on his emotions for your sake. "You know my rules cariño..."

You bite your lip, stressed that you've upset him and killed the mood completely. "I know, I know, I'm so sorry Miguel...."

Miguel hums, slowly starting to unzip the jacket. "I know you are, baby...." He pauses as he watches the zipper coast downwards, letting the anticipation build for a moment.

"S'alright...." He breathes slowly, brushing his lips against your ear.

"S'not your fault, my dear..."

Without warning he rips the jacket off of you. You squeak in alarm, he holds you tightly against him, his hands gripping your waist hard, fingers digging into your skin as he ravenously attacks your neck and bare shoulders with his lips, nipping at them with his teeth.

"From now on...the only clothes that I will rip off your body...are the ones I buy you. Not any other man's. Understand?"

He takes your cheeks between his fingers, roughly bringing your gaze up at his, the silk brown of his eyes now gleaming with fire.

"You're all mine..." He whispers.

You shudder and moan softly, when you feel him grip your clothed pussy, the attention to the ache you felt all night long for him finally being satisfied with the warm grip of his hand.

He seems to take notice of your neediness as well, smirking as he moves his hand softly against your sex, his voice reducing to a purr with satisfaction at your weakness.

"See....you enjoy this yeah, my dirty girl...?"

He works his palm into a steady caress, the heel of his hand hitting against your clit. You let out a little whine.

"Shit....so sensitive....so weak to my touch...." He licks his lips, eyes drinking in every little shudder your body makes, coming to rest on your breasts.

"Miguel..." You're fighting to keep your eyes open, the pleasure coursing in your veins making them heavier than usual.

"That feels soooo good...."

Miguel smirks even wider, leaning in and continuing his trail of kisses on your neck, pausing to suck on your skin.

"Yeah....? Mmm good..... You deserve to feel good, cariño. Let me make you feel good...."

He lays you back on the bed, his hands dance underneath your shirt, another moan leaving your lips as the warmth from his palms make contact with your skin.

"Can I take this off, angel?"

You nod numbly, lifting your body and arms as he removes your shirt. He removes his sweater as well, unbuttoning his dress shirt halfway before he gets distracted by the goddess in front of him.

Miguel groans at your bare upper half, leaning in to lick and suck his way down the middle of your chest in the valley between your breasts, affectionately motorboating his face in between them and flicking your nipples with his tongue, leaving the sensitive buds perky before he coasts down to your soft stomach.

"Mmmm..." You arch your back, biting your lip as you give in to your own burning desire, letting yourself caress your breasts with your free hand while he indulges.

He chuckles against your skin, admiring how you're taking charge of your own pleasure, his eyes looking up at you from where his cheek is laid against your stomach, leaving soft kisses.

"That's a beautiful sight..."

He rubs his cheek against your stomach, pressing another soft kiss into it. "It's nice watching you enjoy yourself, baby. You drive me insane...."

He gently slides his fingers underneath the waistline of your pants.

"Open your legs..." He whispers.

You breathe deeply, letting your hand run softly, slowly down your body, giving your breast another tender squeeze on the way down, easing your knees apart.

"Lift your hips..."

You obey, your breath shuddering as he pulls your pants off your body, followed by your panties.

"God..." He groans. " Such a good girl...your pretty pussy's already wet for me...."

You gasp quietly as his fingers trace the top of your sex until they gently circle around your clit, softly pushing against it, as though it were a switch, your back arches and your mouth falls open, Miguel groaning above you.

"S'alright, beautiful...let me get you ready for me..."

He starts to softly, softly rotate two thick fingers inside your pussy, already wet with want, greedily welcoming any penetration as your walls envelope them, the soothing pitch of his voice arousing you, encouraging you to stretch yourself wider.

Miguel is impossibly turned on right now, using his free hand to unbuckle his belt and release his large cock from his boxers, allowing his aching length to flop against his stomach, angry tip blooming with precum already.

"Mig-"

He interrupts you with a soft kiss, making out with you passionately as his fingers curl and scissor within you, soft whimpers you leave behind in his mouth as your tongues slide and massage against one another.

He pauses and removes his fingers, the feeling within you empty for a moment as you catch your breath, but not for long as his mouth surrounds your pussy, his arms locking around your upper thighs as his tongue starts to lap up and down.

You pant, gazing up at the ceiling then down at him as you struggle to prop yourself up a little, your pretty lips open in a mixture of shock and pleasure as you watch him greedily lick and eat your pussy to his heart's content.

He moans at the taste, letting his tongue circle in a repetitive motion up and down as he nuzzles his face a little deeper into your warm cunt, your wetness transferring onto his whole face and nose as the tip of it prods at your clit.

You shudder and moan loudly, eyes shut as all you begin to focus on is the overwhelming wave of pleasure as you grind on his face, the way you can practically feel every creamy drop leak out of you and into his mouth as you fall apart underneath him.

No man has ever made you feel this damn good before. Never made you feel so womanly, so worshipped before tonight.

You lose yourself to the sensation of his tongue curling and rolling inside you, massaging and lingering in the plush spots that make your toes curl and flickers of light erupt your vision, letting yourself be completely vulnerable in this moment, alone, with him.

He studies you carefully, mind imprinting which angle of his tongue causes you to shudder the most, which soft spot inside your pussy makes you whimper the most desperately, memorizing your body as if it's a Bible as he continues eating you out on top of the master bed.

"That's it, almost there for me..." He licks your arousal off his lips, pussydrunk before reassuming his position.

"Dios, baby...those stupid little college boys can't make you feel this good, can they.....?" He smirks as he continues to lather your pussy with his warm tongue.

"N-No....only you baby...."

The knot in your stomach snaps and you feel your body turn to mush as your love seeps out of you, the sweet, sweet peak of arousal overcoming and absolutely wrecking you, sending shockwaves of overwhelming pleasure all through your mind and senses, lying there out of breath as Miguel pants, his soft stomach and dark happy trail with slightest hints of grey peppered in covered in a thick gloss of his beautiful sweat, a dazzling, satisfied smile on his face, pecs shiny and proud as his chest heaves up and down in simmering heat.

He peels off the rest of his shirt and clothes, leaving himself naked before you, the warm glow of the room making him look so godly, so entrancing under the scarce light as he positions himself above you, gently nudging your legs apart with his knees.

He leans in close, kissing you, your lips breaking apart a little from a sharp gasp you let out as you feel his fat tip massaging between your folds, the fullest part of the curve dipping in slightly, an agonizing tease.

"Miguel..." You whine.

"Cariño...?" He answers innocently with a smirk, as though he's completely oblivious to how much he's torturing you with not filling you up with his cock all the way.

"I need you..."

"That so, baby....? I'm enjoying this though...."

"Please..."

"I love hearing you beg, baby. It's so sweet..."

"Please, please fuck me Miguel..."

"Mmmmm...."

You both moan in sweet unison as he slides inside you completely.

"There...." He pants, hooking your thigh over his hip, squeezing it as he grips the headboard with the other. You cry out loudly for him, running your hands all along his dense muscle. His pride, ego and lust swelling as you admire and feel his strength, letting yourself become so submissive and cockdrunk underneath him as he snaps his hips lewdly against yours.

"Fuck!!....so amazing....Miguel....need you so badly..."

He cradles your head delicately in his hands, slowing down his thrusts, dragging his clock slower and deep within you, letting you really feel every inch.

"I know baby, I know...M'right here, baby..." He groans loudly as his cock strokes against a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

".....bet no man's ever fucked you this good hmm...?" He smiles as he pants above you, toying with your bottom lip as he continues thrusting slowly.

"Bet I can make my pretty baby so needy for this cock after tonight...."

"Oh....." You groan, closing your eyes as your lips meet in a hot sweaty kiss.

"N-Nobody has fucked me like you do....n-never felt so good in my life..."

"Oh...tell me more, you sweet thing..." He slowly tilts his head, caging you below him as he continues to slowly fuck you, the space between you more intimate.

"I wanna feel all of you....all the time..." You feel your eyes water, the vulnerability of the moment pushing you to confess your deepest feelings, the chemicals and hormones between you to driving you to spill the innermost contents of your heart.

"I...I don't deserve you. I feel so lucky.....I don't understand what you see when you look at me. I'm so addicted to you....your body, your voice, your laugh, everything...."

Miguel's eyes soften, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"Oh cariño...but you do deserve me."

He leans in, pressing soft kisses, every word he speaks carries intention which swiftly translates into more passion in his hips as he begins to fuck you faster and faster.

"You enthrall me....you entice me....drive me crazy just thinking about you ever since the first day you showed up in my office..."

He buries his face in your neck, holding onto your hips.

"Know what I had to do after you left cariño....? Had to fuck my fist and think about you because you drove me so damn crazy..."

You pant, your eyebrows knitting when you feel another knot twisting itself in your stomach, preparing to snap.

Miguel groans, gently pressing his hand against the small bulge in your stomach, doubling your pleasure as he fucks you, edging himself closer to his own blissful end.

"You consume me....you're perfect.....you're mine, all mine. Sweet, sweet girl...."

You grab his face, kissing him passionately, he moans eagerly into the kiss, your sweaty bodies completely engulfed in the other.

"M'close...." He murmurs. "You are too, aren't you beautiful....?"

He interlocks your fingers together as he fucks you harder than before. Your back arches, legs shaking, struggling to keep your voice down, fighting to lock down your concentration on that one area that he keeps hitting so perfectly, pushing you dangerously close to the edge, dead set on falling off of it.

The heat in your core dials higher and higher, to the point you're practically screaming. You continue to hopelessly moan and pant, letting him hear your sweet chorus of pleasure as he continues plunging his cock in and out of your cunt.

Soon, a sea of arousal leaks out of you both, painting your lower stomach in his salty white ropes, his mouth open in shock as he gently coaxes any remaining cum from his cock, tenderly kissing you for several long moments, his body frozen above yours.

The blinding emotions of such an intimate experience nearly causing those three little words to slip through, practically screaming to be said, but he holds back for now, instead a warm look of adoration all across his face as he kisses you some more, a soft hum of satisfaction you purr quietly into his mouth as you return his kiss.

After a relaxing wash underneath the heavenly soft waterfall showerhead in your master bathroom and him lovingly massaging cleansing soap all over every sensitive inch of your body, you were tucked in his arms in your clean pajamas as he dimmed the lights with his remote, pressing one last loving kiss against your temple.

"M'right here, cariño....get some sleep...."

The hold that tiredness has on him is so strong to the point that he barely hears the quieted words you mutter in response before he's rendered unresponsive by the spell of sleep.

"I'm in love with you..."

Before you're gone as well, your hearts syncing in quieting rhythm alongside one another, the faint sound of crickets chirping outside your window in the peaceful countryside.

----

Tags 🖤🫶🏽:

@scaleniusrm @laysmt @to-the-endoftheline

@criessoft @bammzyboomy @thatone-writer @oharasfilipinawife @lauraolar14 @scaryplanetdestroyer @amberbalcom14

@ofmenanduhhhwellmen @2099hitmylineyline

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@leonsbimbogf @cicithemess @sassypossumm

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travelingare · 4 months

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📍Santorini Greece.

Minogiannis Valantis Captures the ethereal beauty of Santorini, an island that epitomizes the allure of the Greek Isles with its dazzling whitewashed buildings, blue-domed churches, and breathtaking sunsets.

on the cliffs overlooking the Aegean Sea, Santorini is a masterpiece of nature and human artistry.

The island's captivating charm is not just in its iconic architecture but also in its volcanic landscapes, ancient ruins, and the deep blue waters that surround it. From the stunning views at Oia to the vibrant streets of Fira, Santorini invites you to explore its myriad of colors, flavors, and sights. Santorini's vineyards, known for their unique grape varieties, offer a taste of the island's rich culinary heritage, paired beautifully with the fresh seafood served at the local tavernas. The beaches, with their distinctive black, red, and white sands, provide a serene escape under the Mediterranean sun.

The island's history is as layered as

its stunning caldera, from the ancient

city of Akrotiri to the traditional

villages that dot the landscape.

Santorini is not just a destination? it's

an experience that captures the

essence of Greek beauty and

hospitality. Whether it's wandering

through its cobblestone alleys,

sailing into the sunset, or simply

soaking in the panoramic views. Santorini leaves an indelible mark on the heart.

For those enchanted by the serene beauty and romantic ambiance of the Greek Isles, be sure to follow @minogiannisvalantis for more breathtaking visuals of Santorini's unforgettable landscape.

#lifestyle #myuploads #aesthetic #travel #travelingare #photography #architecture #santorini #greece #blue white #sea sun

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joelswritingmistress · 6 months

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 21

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

“I want you to come somewhere with me in a few weekends.” Dr. Miller ducked under the water beside me and emerged a few seconds later.

I dragged my toes along the small tiles on the bottom of the pool. “Where?”

“It's a surprise.” He scrunched his nose and squinted his eyes as he grinned. Despite our age gap there were times he looked so boyish - like right now.

I made a face back at him. “Everything’s a secret. You gotta give me this one.” I raised my eyebrows and swished my arms around.

Dr. Miller reached for my hands and pulled me toward the deep end like we did in the past. When my hands rested on his shoulders and I began to kick my feet, he gave in.

“Over the long weekend in February my sister is getting married. Come with me. Be my.. plus one.”

“Her wedding.” I smiled and then laughed. “She doesn't even know me.”

“We can change that.”

“What if she doesn't like me?”

Dr. Miller grinned. “My sister likes everyone who I like. She trusts my judge of character.”

“I’d love to go. I just.. that's a big night for your sister. I don't want to ruin it.”

He chuckled again. “How could you ruin it? Just don't drink too much and vomit on her dress and I think she'll be just fine.”

I snickered and took a deep breath, continuing to kick. “Are you sure?”

“If you don't want to go, I understand. I just-”

“I do.” I cut him off before he could continue. “I want to go.”

“Good.” He pecked my lips and continued to swim backwards until we reached the other side. “Then it's a date.”

“Where is it?”

“At the Stowe Ski Resort in Vermont.”

“I can't ski,” I said with a chuckle.

Dr. Miller smiled wide. “Well, you can't swim either, yet here we are.” He let his eyebrows rise and fall and I chuckled.

“Good point.” I slicked back his hair and planted a kiss on his lips. “Okay.. as long as it's okay with your sister.. I'll go.”

Two weekends later, Dr. Miller and I were walking hand-in-hand up the pebbly walkway of Red Maple Vineyard. I was nervous. Dr. Miller’s sister seemed to mean the world to him. Meeting her for the first time had me on pins and needles.

What if she doesn't like me? I kept asking myself that question over and over. Would our age gap bother her?

The two of us passed by the main doors to the establishment and headed to a back patio. It was littered with firepits, each one surrounded by a fake, see-through igloo. Patrons dressed in winter hats and scarves, all toting wine glasses and talking with smiles inside of them.

When Dr. Miller grinned and gave a wave, my stomach knotted up. At the far, left corner of the patio a woman rose to her feet with the same friendly wave. She was a beautiful woman, with shortly cropped brown hair and high cheekbones. Jamie Lee Curtis in the flesh. The salt-and-pepper haired man who was seated beside her rose to his feet in preparation to greet us.

Moment of truth. I knew I needed to make a good impression.

“My favorite brother,” Carol greeted, pulling Dr. Miller I'm for a hug.

“Your only brother,” he added with a laugh, kissing her on the cheek.

“Still my favorite.” She nudged him and looked to me.

“Hi.” I smiled wide and extended a hand in Carol's direction. “I'm (Y/N). It's so nice to meet you.”

“Carol Miller,” she smiled and side-glanced her beau. “Soon to be Brennan.”

“Not soon enough.” The man exchanged a friendly handshake with Joel, and then switched his gaze to me. “Will Brennan.”

“Nice to meet you.” I then added, “Congratulations, by the way.” My eyes danced from Carol to Will and back to Carol.

“Thank you,” they said in unison, before inviting us to sit around the firepit with them.

Dr. Miller placed a hand on my lower back and extended his arm to allow me into the igloo a step ahead of him. I ducked under and sat down between him and his sister.

“We picked up a bottle of Chardonnay and Merlot,” Carol explained. “Preference?” She looked at me and reached for an empty glass. “Or we could grab a bottle of something else.”

“Oh, thank you. Um.. I’m more of a white wine girl.”

“Me, too.” Carol reached for the Chardonnay and poured me a glass before offering the same to her brother, who went with the Merlot.

“So,” Carol eyed the two of us, “How did you two meet?”

The question that made me freeze. I had only been asked one another time, and that by Tori. I assumed Dr. Miller would be giving his sister the same one because we hadn't talked about another faux-scenario.

“We met at the university,” Dr. Miller said.

“Oh,” Carol glanced to meet as she brought the glass of Chardonnay to her lips. “Do you work there, too?”

“I work at the board of education in Windham,” I explained, feeling my cheeks redden. “I’m actually just taking two courses at night. Chipping away at my Masters.”

“Oh, so this is a forbidden romance.” Carol said, motioning between the two of us with the hand she held her wine glass with. “Got it.” Her delivery was so dry I wasn't sure if she was kidding, disapproving or otherwise. I wondered what she would think of me actually being in his class.

Dr. Miller grinned at his sister who finally cracked a smile and gave a wink.

“I'm teasing,” she added. “You're both grown adults.”

Phew.

“I mean, she can't be one to judge,” Will leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “She fell for her boss.”

Carol glanced over at him and they shared a smile-turned-laugh.

“And yet, I still haven't gotten a raise.”

“I thought the diamond ring might've evened that out.”

I smiled to myself at their playful interaction. “How long have you been together?”

Carol rested a hand on his knee. “Almost three years.”

“Carol is the Dean of students at a private high school not far from here,” Dr. Miller informed me.

“Hillcrest Academy,” Carol explained. “And Will is the headmaster.”

“Nepotism,” Dr. Miller mumbled into his wine glass before taking a sip, making Will laugh and Carol roll her eyes.

“Fortunately for us, private schools don't have the same rules as most public schools do. One of us would probably have to leave to teach in another building, but Hillcrest doesn't have a strong nepotism policy. I just can't be the one to directly evaluate her performance.”

“Okay, enough work stuff,” Carol shushed him and leaned back in her chair to cross one leg over the other. “Let's get a little drunk and get to know each other.” She glanced at me with a look like, ‘what do you say'?

“Here, here.” Will raised his glass.

“Sounds good to me.” I brought my glass to the middle and then Dr. Miller and Carol did the same. We alternated tapping our glasses together and got the evening underway.

I was secretly hoping the truth would come out about Dr. Miller’s castle and the money. I was tempted to ask after a few glasses of wine, but I kept my mouth shut. The night ended up full of laughs and old, embarrassing stories. The mood was light, and talking to Carol and Will felt so organic that I certainly wasn't about to spoil it with intrusive questions.

“So,” Carol cleared her throat, swirling the wine that neared the bottom of the glass. The men were having their own conversation so her question was directed at me. “Do you want kids in the future?” Her question drew a quick glance from Dr. Miller and I knew he was fully paying attention despite his interaction with Will.

“Oh, well, eventually.. probably.” I chuckled and sipped from my own glass of wine. “I'm not totally there yet.”

“You've got time.” She tapped my knee and then fanned herself. “These igloos get warm.”

“That's the wine, honey.” Will placed a hand on the back of her neck and gave a squeeze.

Carol removed a white scarf she had on over a blue sweater. “So, Joel says you'll be attending our wedding next month.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked to Dr. Miller, then back to Carol. “If it's okay with you. I mean..”

“She's coming.” He draped an arm around my shoulders and winked, making me look down with a smile and back up.

I looked at Carol. “I'll be there.”

“Well, upon first impressions,” Carol glanced at Dr. Miller and then to me. “I'd love to have you as my brother’s plus one.”

“Congratulations,” Dr. Miller looked at me. “You passed the Carol test.”

“Even I flunked the first time,” Will added, making everyone laugh.

I felt like I was flying when we left the vineyard that night. Things had gone so well. When we exchanged hugs and finally went to our separate cars, I turned to Dr. Miller and kissed him on the cheek.

“Carol likes you,” he said, smiling back.

“She's great,” I gushed, “And Will seems really nice. They seem happy.”

Dr. Miller put his first two fingers beneath my chin. I loved when he did that. He stared at me for a few seconds before leaning in and touching his lips to mine. “Let's go home.”

Home.

I sighed contently, eager to snuggle under the fluffy down comforter in Dr. Miller's bed. I felt completely at ease after being worried about the evening prior to going out. I agreed. “Let's go home.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @jiminstinypinky @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year

Text

The Ironies of Life (Part 2) - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster/ Fem!OC (Naomi)

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; Exes; Emotional Angst; Named Female OC (Naomi), but No Physical Descriptions

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Naomi is referenced as being a woman and she was previously an officer in the Navy. But otherwise there is no description of her physical features or her surname, so fill in as you wish.

Summary: Naomi and Rooster sit down together. Maverick and Penny offer some guidance.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Master List

Naomi stared at Rooster for a moment, waiting for him to actually react.

He managed to stumble over to the seat across from her, but now he seemed to be back to his staring blankly phase. His eyes were wide and occasionally flicked down to her bump. But otherwise, there was barely any indication that he was even breathing.

“Rooster?” Naomi called softly, trying to bring him back into the present. A few beats of silence passed before she added, “Bradley?”

But Rooster just kept staring at her and not saying anything, so Naomi wasn’t sure what to do. Letting out a breath to calm herself down, Naomi scooted forward a little bit more and rested her hands on the table to steady herself.

“I just want to tell you that I’m not expecting for you to commit to anything during this conversation,” she started off softly, managing her tone.

Naomi studied Rooster’s expression for a moment, but he remained frozen in place. She was half-tempted to snap her fingers in front of his eyes, but maybe it was better this way. She could say her part and all of the words that she practiced over and over again without interruption.

“I don’t expect you to want to get back together or to want to be involved in this baby’s life,” Naomi continued quietly. “You made it very clear that a kid doesn’t fit into your life plans and that’s fine. I don’t want to force you to be a parent. I’m not going to force you to be a parent.”

Naomi was starting to get just a little more anxious as Bradley continued to just stare at her.

“I just thought that after all of the time that we spent together . . . after everything that we went through . . . I thought that I owed you an explanation. Face-to-face. And that’s my only goal of this conversation: to just tell you about the baby.”

Naomi folded her arms protectively over her bump and took another deep breath to steady herself.

“If you want to talk about your role—whatever it is that you feel that you’re comfortable with, if it’s anything—I’m here to talk. We can seek mediation or go to counseling too if you feel that it’s necessary. Or if you want to just get up and leave and not look back . . .” Naomi let out another breath. “. . . that’s your choice and I won’t stop you.”

She flicked her eyes up to meet Rooster’s gaze once more and straightened up in her seat. He seemed to be coming around some more but there was still that blank look in his eyes. Reaching for her water, Naomi took a long sip before turning back to Rooster.

“Bradley? Can you hear me?”

“You’re pregnant?” Rooster croaked out a few moments later, his voice hoarse and strained.

“Yes, I’m pregnant,” Naomi confirmed, nodding slowly. “About six months along now.”

“You’re pregnant,” Rooster repeated dumbly.

“Yeah,” Naomi held out, starting to wonder if Rooster was having a stroke or something. “I’m pregnant.”

“How?” Rooster breathed out, earning a sudden sharp look from Naomi. “No, I know how, but how?”

“Do you remember when we went to my friend’s wedding? The one that we started to have that fight on the dance floor?” Rooster nodded slowly in confirmation so Naomi continued on with her story. “Well, remember how we took it outside because we didn’t want to cause a scene? And that fight that we had in the vineyard?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, remember what we did after that fight?”

“You’re on birth control,” Rooster stated, like it was the answer to all of his problems. As if Naomi wasn’t visibly pregnant right there in front of him. “I saw your pills. You took them every day. Every day. And you always told me if you missed one.”

“Yeah, but I had to switch them, remember? Because of the side effects. And the new pills weren’t as effective as the old ones.” Naomi fiddled with her fingers nervously and looked down. “I think that it slipped our minds in the moment. We weren’t exactly focused on anything else than . . .”

“But . . . but . . . but . . .”

Rooster held his head in his hands and seemed to be somewhere along the lines of a breakdown based on the way that he was rocking back and forth in his seat. Naomi sucked in a breath when her baby leaned just a little too heavily against her bladder. Trying to cross her legs, Naomi turned back to Rooster, who seemed to be in the middle of his own personal crisis.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” Naomi asked softly, genuinely concerned for him.

“No, I—Jesus fucking Christ, Naomi,” Rooster cursed, holding his head in his hands again. “What the—when did you find out?”

“About a month after we broke up.”

“You mean after you broke up with me?” Rooster muttered, though he didn’t dare meet her gaze.

“Yes,” Naomi replied calmly, expecting the response.

“Fucking hell,” Rooster cursed again, rubbing his face aggressively.

“I’ll give you a moment,” Naomi offered, reaching for her purse as she stood up.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Rooster interjected, standing up quickly and nearly knocking over the table in the process. “You’re just going to leave after dropping that bomb on me?”

“No, I . . .” Naomi glanced around the patio before leaning in a little closer and dropping her voice, “. . . I just need to use the bathroom. The baby is sitting on my bladder.”

“Oh,” Rooster breathed out, glancing down at her bump.

“Here,” Naomi replied after a moment, holding out her keys. “I’m not leaving. Just going to the bathroom. I’m coming back. Okay?”

“Okay,” Rooster breathed out, staring at her keys.

Naomi shot him a small smile before heading inside the café. Rooster sunk back into his seat and placed Naomi’s keys on the table in front of him. Staring down at them and thinking over the mess that he called his life, Rooster whipped out his phone. Calling Phoenix, Rooster pinched the bridge of his nose as he waited for the call to connect.

“How’s it going?” Phoenix asked as she picked up the call.

“What the fuck, Nat?” Rooster demanded, unable to hide his aggravation.

“Look, you two needed to talk. And no one else needed to get involved. Are you finished up already?”

“We barely started,” Rooster insisted, glancing inside the café for any sign of Naomi. “How in the . . . what the fuck, Nat?”

“I know.”

“She’s pregnant.”

“I know.”

“With my baby.”

“I know,” Phoenix agreed softly. “I noticed.”

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Rooster groaned, dropping his face into his hand. “What the . . . I . . . this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I would suggest talking to someone with a little parental experience,” Phoenix stated honestly, not wanting to give her opinion on the subject.

Hell, Phoenix did not want to wade into this debacle. Rooster was her best friend and she got along well with Naomi when Rooster and Naomi were dating. No one did anything wrong and they both had their reasons for their stances in the situation. But that didn’t make a solution easy to find. Especially not on the timeline that they were working with.

“Try Maverick. Or Penny. Or maybe a therapist.”

“Fuck,” Rooster cursed, picking his head up. “Is Mav at the beach?”

“Yeah.”

“Does he know?”

“Yeah, Blabber Mouth One and Two sort of spilled the beans,” Phoenix explained, sounding annoyed on Rooster’s behalf.

“What was his reaction?”

“He just stood there for a bit,” Phoenix answered honestly.

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Rooster returned before he spotted Naomi walking towards him again. “I have to go.”

“Good luck.”

Rooster hung up the phone and set it back down as Naomi stepped outside. She shot Rooster a small, nervous smile before retaking her seat. Placing her purse on the back of her chair, Naomi turned back to Rooster and straightened up a bit.

“So . . . how are you feeling about . . . everything?” Naomi asked quietly, resting her hands on her bump.

“I’m . . .” Rooster began, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“I understand,” Naomi replied, nervously rubbing her bump with her fingers. “Take the time that you need. I’m in San Diego for a couple more days, so if you reach your decision or just want to talk about options, just call me and we can meet up to talk.”

“You don’t want to talk about it right now?” Rooster asked, frowning slightly.

“I wanted to give you some time and space to think it over,” Naomi corrected him quietly. “But if you want to talk about it, we can talk about it.”

Rooster nodded slowly, staring down at his hands for a moment.

When he woke up this morning, he did not think that he would get this bomb dropped on him. When he got all of those calls and messages from Naomi, he assumed that she just wanted to get back together or something stupid. Not something like a baby.

A baby. His baby. Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was he going to do?

~~~~~

Rooster put Naomi’s rental car into park and took a moment to compose himself. After a relatively short conversation, Rooster invited Naomi to come down to the beach with him. Even though their relationship was rocky at the moment, he didn’t hate Naomi anywhere near enough to send her alone back to a hotel room for a few days.

“If anyone says anything . . .” he told her, but Naomi sent him a small smile in return.

“I’m a big girl,” Naomi assured Rooster, grabbing her purse. “I can handle it.”

They slowly got out of the car and headed down to the beach together. Rooster tried to simply focus on the step that was right in front of him. And even though he reflexively reached for Naomi when she started to walk down the stairs to the beach, he ironed his arm to his side when he spotted the Daggers staring them down.

If Naomi was nervous about meeting the Daggers, she didn’t show it as she walked slowly and steadily along the warm sand of Coronado Beach. When they reached the edge of the Daggers, Rooster carefully avoided Maverick’s gaze, which could probably be translated to something along the lines of ‘we will be talking about this later, young man,’ and gestured to Naomi.

“Everyone, this is Naomi. Naomi, this is everyone,” Rooster introduced lamely.

“Hello everyone,” Naomi stated kindly, giving them a small wave.

“Now wait. There’s something different about you, Naomi,” Hangman drawled, rubbing his chin in fake thought. “Did you change your hair?”

“No, I just got fat,” Naomi replied, nodding along sarcastically. “But you haven’t changed a bit, Seresin. Still compensating for . . . everything?”

The round of chuckles that went around the Dagger Squad seemed to lighten the mood just a bit and suck some of the tension out of the air. Rooster still seemed out of it, but Naomi quickly adapted to the situation. After all, she had months of practice with ignoring the curious stares and questions about her bump. Rooster, on the other hand, was still processing everything.

Eventually, the Daggers ran off to play another round of football and Naomi found herself sitting down with Penny up at the Hard Deck. Naomi rested her hands on her bump as her baby continued to shift around and simply watched the game.

“How far along are you?” Penny asked, causing Naomi to turn to her.

“About six months,” Naomi replied, offering Penny a small smile.

“Yeah, that’s when it all really starts to set in,” Penny stated, recalling her own experience.

“You have kids?” Naomi questioned curiously.

“A daughter. She’s fourteen. Amelia.”

“Like Amelia Earhart?” Naomi inquired, looking a little amused.

“Sort of,” Penny stated, causing Naomi to chuckle. Penny glanced down at Naomi’s bump before leaning back in her own seat. “Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

“No,” Naomi spoke softly. “I wanted to wait.”

“For him?” Penny guessed knowingly, gesturing towards Rooster with her head.

“Mostly, yeah,” Naomi agreed, nodding along. She rubbed her bump again, taking a deep breath. “I sort of had this . . . fantasy in my head about . . .”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Penny assured Naomi, leaning forward a bit. “I was the same way with my daughter’s father.” Penny took a sip of her drink before turning back to Naomi. “It’s hard to give up on it. The fantasy.”

“It is,” Naomi stated quietly, biting her bottom lip. “Really hard.” She turned back to the dogfight football game and let out a breath. “But I’m not going to force someone to be a parent who doesn’t want to be a parent. I think that would be worse for everyone in the long run. And I made my choice. So, Bradley should get his choice too.”

“He didn’t want to settle down?” Penny asked, honestly sounding shocked.

“No. He didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want to have kids,” Naomi listed off, her voice growing smaller with each word. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. But . . . I wanted something different. For me . . . for us.” Naomi turned back to Penny with a curious look. “Why? Did he say something about it? Or about our relationship?”

“Not to me,” Penny replied honestly. “But Maverick always seemed to think that Rooster was going to settle down one day.” Penny glanced down at the beach and folded her arms underneath her. “He was always worried that he would miss something. A wedding. A baby. Moments like that. The ones that you can never get back.”

“I guess people change,” Naomi responded quietly, wrapping her arms protectively around her bump.

~~~~~

As the dogfight football game started to wind down, Maverick glanced over at the Hard Deck. Naomi and Penny were still sitting out on the back porch, chatting and seemingly at ease with each other. He knew that Penny, out of everyone else on the beach, probably understood Naomi’s current headspace the best.

And now, he needed to figure out where Bradley was headed with this situation.

Maverick could have just pictured Goose and Carole’s reaction to it all. Carole would have absolutely dragged Rooster by the ear, berating him for ignoring Naomi, and warning him that he had to make it right or else she would kick his ass on Naomi’s behalf. Goose would have taken a softer approach than his wife, but Maverick knew that Goose wouldn’t just let Rooster walk away.

Goose didn’t run away when he accidentally knocked up Carole. He married her, bought her a house, and stepped up for both Carole and Bradley. And he would have expected for his son to do the same in this situation. Or, at the very least, to not run away from it.

So, when everyone else started shuffling up the sand towards the Hard Deck to grab some drinks and food, Maverick gently grabbed Rooster on his shoulder. Bradley turned to face him and Maverick silently nodded down the beach. And without a protest, and a bit of a blank puppy dog look, Rooster headed down the beach.

Maverick led the way, giving Bradley some space, and making sure that no one else was within earshot. Bradley kept staring down at the sand, letting the warm waves lick at his toes as he barely blinked. It was like his brain completely short-circuited and he wasn’t able to do much else other than walk. With one last glance back at the Hard Deck, Maverick turned to Rooster.

“Are you okay?” Maverick started off softly, genuinely concerned for Bradley.

“I don’t know,” Rooster replied honestly. “I . . . I feel like I haven’t had an actual cohesive thought since I found out, Mav.”

“It’s a lot to take in all at once,” Maverick agreed, nodding along. “What did she tell you?”

“She’s six months along. She doesn’t know the gender. The baby is healthy and so is she. And she told me that I can be as involved as I want and that she wanted me to think about it before making any kind of big decision about it.”

“Well, I agree with that last part.” Maverick slowly stopped walking and turned to Rooster, who paused in his step as well. “Whatever decision you make with this situation, Bradley, you need to be confident with it. You need to be comfortable with it. Because it’s not easy to go back on whatever decision you choose once you’ve made it.”

“I know,” Rooster responded quietly, glancing over at the Hard Deck. “And that terrifies me.”

Maverick nodded along, studying Rooster’s expression carefully. He turned back to the Hard Deck, watching as Naomi talked with Phoenix and Bob at one of the tables. Maverick returned his gaze to Rooster, who was still staring over at Naomi. Quietly sighing to himself, Maverick glanced up at the sky for a moment, asking for some guidance from Carole and Goose.

“Which way are you leaning with it?” Maverick asked softly.

Rooster continued to stare blankly over at Naomi and for a moment Maverick thought that Bradley was simply tuning him out. But when Rooster turned to face him, Maverick could see the answer written all over Rooster’s face. But there were still those seeds of doubt, of fear, there as well.

He was lost. Rooster was completely lost.

But he didn’t have time to be lost. Not as much as he probably would have ever liked or needed.

That little baby was going to be born in a few months regardless of any choice that Rooster made.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Tag List:

@gxlden-honey @caidi-paris @xoxabs88xox @badasspizzalover

#bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster fanfic #top gun rooster #rooster x oc #bradley rooster x oc #top gun: maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #tgm #rooster bradshaw fic

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sleepnowmychild · 1 month

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From no belief in particular to Helpol

Just because I find it interesting that so many helpol people and pagans in general seem to be ex-biblical religions, here’s a slightly different story for you.

I never grew up religious. My dad is actually very anti-religion because of the sheer amount of people who use religion as a weapon to discriminate, and the way many churches can become almost like a tiny cult. But my mums side of the family is Italian Christians (don’t ask me how my parents were even together at one point because I have no clue). So on one side I had my dad telling me to never trust a pastor and that he’d never let me set foot in a church and my Italian grandparents going all in on Christmas family reunions with the nativity scene set up and crosses on all their cards and church Christmas morning.

It made me very neutral. I didn’t care what existed, I was just a kid who was exited to pick grapes on our vineyard (which looking back, the fact I lived in a vineyard and made wine is very,,, hello Dionysus) and get days off school for Christmas holidays etc. I didn’t believe in the Christian god, but as a kid I did believe in an afterlife. I think because it’s easier to process that as a kid than death being just nothingness.

In primary school, we did a whole term in Greek mythology. My first ever myth was echo and narcissus and I still have the painted tea towel I made with echo on it for the art potion of that class. I got very obsessed, very quick, as undiagnosed autistic kids do. I loved mermaids and sirens, nymphs and the sailing part of all the war myths. I’ve always had this deep link to the water, not just the sea but rivers and lakes, any water you can swim in. You’d think I’d end up a Poseidon or Aphrodite devotee because of that huh? Point is I heard the Greek myths young, and because those myths also have Roman equivalents, when my Italian family heard I was obsessed I’d get the Roman version of the stories from them.

For years I was just mythology obsessed with no particular beliefs. I didn’t like how hardcore my Italian family was in their ‘everything is a sin’ mentality and I also felt it was a bit mean of my dad to say every single religious person is a monster. As I came to realise I was trans and bi at around 15, suddenly I was privy to the sheer amount of queerphobia in religion. Turned me away from most of them hardcore. But by the time I was 17, I’d stumbled on the reason those shops with the crystals and little mythology statues exist. Because the old gods of mythology were still worshipped.

I don’t actually remember when I got claimed by Hypnos, but he definitely claimed me. I’d always liked him as a concept because he’s much more chill than some of the more intense gods, but he slowly started creeping into my life when I’d see something and go ‘Hypnos would like that’ or I’d jokingly be like ‘I’m so tired, knock me out Hypnos’ and I WOULD fall asleep easier that night. I can’t exactly explain why, but I’ve got this deep connection to the river Lethe as well. Although not in the sense Lethe is a god, in the sense of its connections to Hypnos. Like there’s a siren of the Lethe inside me screaming to go back home.

In all honesty, there was never a solid moment I was like “I’m helpol now” it just kind of happened. The gods, especially Hypnos snuck into my life back in primary school and slowly made their presence more and more known over the years. And I was fine with that, because this is what my Roman ancestors would have been doing, and this is a religion that doesn’t hate me for being queer.

This got long, I’ll cut it short here. But that’s a perspective from someone who never grew up religious for you.

#hellenic polytheism #hellenic deities #hellenic pagan #hellenic worship #hellenism #hypnos devotee #hypnos god #greek mythology #hypnos deity #cthonic gods #hellenic polythiest #hellenic polytheistic #hellenic gods #hellenic community #helpol

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whispers-of-delphi · 3 months

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You said we killed the Gods, that they are dead, but I disagree.

I see them in everything. I feel them around me.

I know Hestia, the first and the last.

I feel Hera in family and Zeus in the storm. I see Posieodon in the seas and the calm waters or running creeks.

I know Hermes is there on the road less traveled or the one we take, the one we know by heart. He's in the goods we purchase for fun or the ones we need to live and stay warm. He's in the dice we roll at the table, the children that play and giggle with laughter.

I see Hephestus in the athimes that lay on our altars. The armor we wear, though symbolic in nature. I see Demeter in the harvest and Persephone in the changing of seasons. I feel Hades in the cemetery where we go to rest and Thanatos in the funeral homes where we honor the dead.

I know Hecate watches over us when we struggle at the crossroads and Nyx in her gentle night holds us while we sleep.

Aphrodite in love that we want to give, in the roses with thorns, in their beauty can hurt. I feel her sting when I get too close, knowing there there. I see Ares in war, all fighting affairs.

I hear Orpheus in poems, in promises made and broken.

I feel Dionysus in the frenzied crowds, singing and cheering in the heat of the moment. I feel him in the exhaustion after a long night out, and in the relief of coming home to rest. I taste him in the wine, feel him in the steady buzz of it working its way through the body. I see him in the vineyards, the ivy that grows along the paths less traveled, overgrown through time. I feel him in madness, in deep contemplation, of life and of death, in blood and rebirth. I feel him in dark times when all feels lost.

I feel Achilles poised with his spear, ready to fight knowing death is near. I see him in rage - in my heart he is dear. I feel him in my emotions, my mourning and passion.

I see Apollo in the Hawks and crows that circle the skies. Feel him in the warmth of the sun. I see him in the healing hands of the herbalists who make our teas and mend our wounds. I see him in the cards pulled one by one, the pause of thought before interpreting their meaning. I smell him I the insence burned in his honor, in the olive oil poured and the bay leaf burned at his altar. I see him in the ruins of the desecrated temples abandoned long ago, lost in time but not forgotten. I hear his wisdom in the art of silence, words unspoken but perfectly understood. In the moment of silence as an archer takes aim of his arrow and the continued silence to watch it hit its mark. I feel him in the rythmic beats of the stereo, in the pounding drums at a concert loud and clear. I feel it in the aftermath when ears are shot, and nothing seems to make it past the awful ringing from loud guitar screams. I see him in the lines before the show, in people gathering and sharing stories, and I see him in the garden with blue and purple hyacinths blanketing the ground, their scent wafting upwards.

I see Hestia in the fires that cook our food. To her, we give thanks, the first and the last.

We might have forgotten the Gods but they are not dead to those who know how to look.

They've answered my prayers and left me signs. Guided me here and gave me a home. Shown me friends and family and given me a teacher who listens and loves. Makes me feel seen and heard, not small, and ignored.

The Gods are not dead. We just forgot how to find them.

#i know ive got spelling errors #i wasnt going to post this but i feel like i should #apollo #deities #dionysus #apollo deity #offering

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kendsleyauthor · 9 months

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🌊 Solitude + Discover + Quiver 🌊

Promptober 2023

Demigod Universe (Andreas and Dion)

~1500 words

A prequel to The Vineyard! Here is the exact moment that Dion realizes that his mysterious ex-lover, Andreas, is more than just a pretty face 😉

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Dion hadn’t worked in nearly two weeks. His fellow artists and craftspeople were growing more concerned by the day, but he couldn’t bring himself to go to the workshop. Couldn’t bring himself to face the inevitable questions of “Where is that handsome model that was tailing after you? What was his name? Andreas?”

With how swiftly Dion was falling behind on his tasks, he was lucky that his last few commissions had paid well. Anytime he sat at his home workbench with the intent of carving an amulet stone, his fingers wouldn’t respond. His mind would drift.

How could Andreas leave so abruptly? So coldly? Why wouldn’t he share what was sending him away?

Worry crowded Dion’s mind day and night. But his fretting was beginning to morph into bitterness. Perhaps Andreas had simply grown bored of him.

He wandered daily. He was pitied at home, and he would be pitied in the workshops, so he secluded himself in the areas that he and Andreas used to escape to. Empty temples and rocky shorelines, mostly. Andreas seemed to favor the Dionysus temple near the beach at the edge of the island.

“Of course it’s my favorite,” Andreas had said. “A temple honoring your namesake? How can I resist?”

That painfully charming smile and voice haunted him like infection in an open wound. He eyed the temple glumly. Although they had never done anything illicit in the temple itself, Dion had still worried they were being disrespectful, stealing away behind it.

“The god of wine and debauchery, offended?” Andreas scoffed. “Don’t you know anything?”

The temple sat lonely this evening. Visitors left offerings during the daytime—he caught glimpses of ripe grapes and bottles of wine. Dion wondered if his namesake ever got sick of being offered the same gifts. There was no one at his side to muse the idea with. Andreas probably would have laughed at the question.

Unable to look at the pillared structure for long, Dion ambled further and made his way along the shore. The waves roared, rushing in and out with more fervor than usual. The din wouldn’t silence his wounded thoughts.

He was being foolish, and he knew it. After all, it made sense that Andreas would leave his life as abruptly as he entered it. Someone as arrogant as him probably couldn’t stand to have only one admirer. He must have seen that Dion was getting too attached.

No matter how he tried to rationalize it, Andreas’ departure stung.

The island had weathered a storm just the other night. Clouds still gathered thickly over the beach, but the worst of it seemed to have passed. Drawing a deep breath, Dion tried to take the weather as a sign: the storm was over, and it was time to move on.

And yet, he swore every time he turned around that he would find Andreas watching him.

The water lapped aggressively at his heels. Perhaps remnants of the storm were still churning the ocean further away, creating an angry high tide. Lightning flashed in the distance, red in the dying light of the day. Too distant to worry about—yet.

A sound came from behind.

A wet dragging sound.

Dion froze and peeked over his shoulder. A choked noise caught in his throat as he staggered all the way around to face the source of the sound.

He couldn’t comprehend exactly what he was seeing.

A grotesque creature was pulling itself from the waves—nearly twice his size. Its upper body was the bluish-green hue of a waterlogged man, but the bottom half seemed to shift between different forms, like it couldn’t decide whether to have the scales of a fish or sleek fur of a seal.

Finally, it consolidated its form into fully humanoid to stand on the shore.

“Gods…” Dion swore, blood draining from his face.

There were more creatures, at least half a dozen, dragging themselves up to stand and locking eyes on him. He shuffled back as they spoke to each other in a strange language he couldn’t comprehend. But as they advanced, their intention was clear: they wanted him.

Telkhines. Shapeshifting creatures from the sea. He had never heard of these creatures on his island before, and he had little clue what he had done to invoke their ire.

He turned on his heel and started running clumsily on the wet sand.

He didn’t make it far before one of the telkhines seized him. Webbed hands locked around his arms, amphibious skin slick but brutal. At once, he fell face fist in the sand. Even one of the towering creatures could overpower him, but before long, three of them were dragging him into the water.

“H-help!” His voice was raw as he coughed on sea water. He let out a guttural scream, but no one was around.

The world shook. It might have been the storm, miraculously approaching from a distance.

Water churned violently around him as the telkhines were torn away. Heaving, Dion scrambled in the rocky water. His eyes stung with salt as he struggled to make sense of the massive new addition to his surroundings.

High overhead, there was a shadow. He suddenly felt so foolish thinking the telkhines were huge. This new figure was perfectly humanoid in shape. Except it must have towered nearly as a high as the temple.

A fresh wave of fear gripped Dion. He clawed his way behind one of the rocks, gasping and coughing.

When he’d screamed for help, he certainly hadn’t expected a giant to answer the call.

It had to be a god or demigod. Perhaps he’d gotten caught in the middle of some altercation. He couldn’t imagine that the giant was intervening with the intent to save him. He peeked out in time to see a pair of monstrously tremendous hands rip apart one of the telkhines. Rather than gore, the unfortunate creature’s corpse rained down as seafoam.

The other monsters fled, diving into the water and rushing straight past Dion without taking notice of him. He ducked anyway, quivering in his hiding place. His fingers dug painfully into the rock as he fought to keep himself grounded against the vicious current.

Other than the lapping water, there was silence.

Leave, Dion willed the giant. Leave me alone.

There was no movement.

Gods and demigods had the ability to vanish into thin air, he had heard. Perhaps the giant had already left. Trembling and breathing shallowly, Dion peeked around the rock. His heart dropped when he saw the giant knelt directly on the other side, leaning closer as though to take a curious look at the cowering mortal.

The giant flinched, apparently just as startled. His eyes were a rich, maddening shade of purple. His skin was sun-bronzed and smooth. His full lips parted with a small intake of air as they regarded each other.

And Dion knew he had gone absolutely crazy, because the giant looked like Andreas.

The giant was Andreas.

For a second, they merely gaped. Then Andreas broke into a familiar, charming smile. His chuckle made Dion shrink away. The smile became tense, uncertain.

“I thought that might be you,” Andreas said, his voice achingly familiar but terrifyingly big.

Dion didn’t answer, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

“Alright, I knew it was you,” Andreas admitted.

The water shifted. One of the monstrous hands that had ripped apart the telkhine was fast approaching, filling Dion’s vision.

With what little air he had, Dion released a choked scream and lunged backward. His footing scrambled for purchase on the sharp rocks of the sea floor. He didn’t care if the current pulled him straight into the jaws of Charybdis. He could not allow that hand to touch him.

But true to himself as ever, Andreas got what he wanted.

“Come now, you’d rather drown than see me? That’s rude of you.” Andreas pushed forward, blocking Dion’s escape and locking his fingers around his waist.

“Let go,” Dion croaked out as he was lifted from the water. He squirmed, inspiring Andreas to grip him tighter. His vision swam as his senses were overwhelmed. He fought the urge to black out—vulnerable as he was now, he couldn’t afford to be unconscious around this monster. “Let go!”

“I’d rather not,” Andreas said as he rose to his full height.

Gods, Dion was so far off the ground.

Tearing his eyes away from the deadly fall, he made the mistake of meeting Andreas’ gaze. Even when held at chest level with the giant, Dion had to crane his neck. A frown creased Andreas’ brow as he regarded him. His eyes drifted away to the distance, then lit up as if he had a brilliant idea.

“The temple,” he said in that excited way of his when his words couldn’t keep up with his thoughts. “We’ll go to the temple. It’s a much more pleasant place to talk, I can assure you.”

Dion didn’t have the energy to protest—not that he would have been listened to, anyway. He faded in and out of consciousness as he was whisked away from the beach and carried high above the scraggly field that led up to the temple.

He gave up on fighting and buried his face in his hands, severely regretting the day he had laid eyes on Andreas.

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reality-detective · 11 months

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Obama. Chef. Bodyguard. Cabal intel:

#BREAKING: Former President Barack Obama’s personal chef has drowned near the family’s home on Martha’s Vineyard.

Massive emergency response in Martha's Vineyard after 911 call from Obama mansion

Body found in search for black male paddleboarder, 43, who drowned in pond on Obama's Martha's Vineyard estate: 911 call was made from ex-President's $12M property last night

Body found in search for black male paddleboarder, 43, who drowned in pond on Obama's Martha's Vineyard estate: 911 call was made from ex-President's $12M property last night.

Witnesses told cops the man went underwater and then briefly reappeared as he struggled to stay afloat, before submerging again around 7.46pm.

A massive joint-agency search resumed Monday morning for the African American male who was last seen wearing all black without a lifejacket, MV Times reported.

His paddle board and hat were recovered Sunday - and his body was found in the eight-foot-deep waters approximately 100 feet away from shore at 10am Monday.

It's understood that the dispatch address for the incident was Barack Obama's $12million Martha's Vineyard home.

Developing...

In a statement, the former president and his wife, Big Mike, called Campbell a “beloved part of our family.”

“When we first met him, he was a talented sous chef at the White House – creative and passionate about food, and its ability to bring people together,” the couple said. “In the years that followed, we got to know him as a warm, fun, extraordinarily kind person who made all of our lives a little brighter.”

“That’s why, when we were getting ready to leave the White House, we asked Tafari to stay with us, and he generously agreed. He’s been part of our lives ever since, and our hearts are broken that he’s gone.”

Campbell was a good swimmer, he was no stranger to water, he was in good physical shape and healthy.

Was it another Deep State Hit Job? He was paddle boarding by himself? I wonder what Big Mike and Obama have to say about this?

Former White House chef, Tafari Campbell, who just drowned at the Obama's residence on Martha's Vineyard after working as their personal chef since leaving the WH.

Video is from February 14th, 2019

As usual... You Decide 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think for yourselves #think about it #think for yourself #question everything #ask yourself questions #do your homework #do some research #do your research #do your own research #you decide

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highqueenofelfhame · 1 year

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rowaelin // 4.4k // ciwyw masterlist // masterlist

a/n: the next fic update will be some kind of haunted. if you haven't already, please give it a read. it's going to be a fun ride. chapter ten will come a few days after that update <3

Golden hair tickled his nose when he woke. The sweet smell of Aelin’s shampoo had him taking a deep breath, savoring every second of her wrapped in his arms. He remembered tugging her closer to him just as he drifted off, but he was surprised they hadn’t appeared to move an inch while they napped. If anything, they were closer together. Their legs were tangled, one of hers sandwiched between his. An arm was slung over his waist and her face was buried in his chest.

He thought she was still sleeping, but her fingertips started drawing lazy patterns over his back, like she heard the change in his breathing and knew he was awake. Mala burn him, he felt her touch through his whole body. While he was still exhausted, Rowan had never felt so awake.

“Are you okay?” He murmured into her hair, taking a chance and pressing his lips to the top of her head as his hand ran up and down her back.

“I’m nauseous.” Aelin’s reply was a whisper swallowed up by the cotton of his shirt.

“I promise I won’t get mad if you throw up on me. It might even finally make us even,” he teased. A soft chuckle from her lips sank through his shirt, goosebumps blooming over his arms and neck.

“The way you smell…” she hesitated, rubbing her nose against into his torso. Rowan waited, fully prepared to lunge for the shower if it was making things worse for her. “It soothes me.”

Rowan had to swallow a swell of emotion as he whispered, “Then we can stay like this as long as you want.”

His arm slid beneath her head, carefully as to not jostle her too much. Aelin’s only answer was the swirling of her fingers over his back and what he swore was a soft brush of her lips against his chest as she melted into him completely.

~*~

Being wrapped up in Rowan chased her nausea away after another half hour. They didn’t speak unless he was checking in to see how she was doing. Long fingers combed through her hair, pausing to twist at the ends. She was quire sure he braided a few pieces at one point before dismantling them gently. Occasionally she would feel the whisper of a kiss to the top her head. Aelin hadn’t felt so at peace since they had last been tangled together like vineyard vines.

Once her stomach didn’t seem to be revolting against her, she pulled back enough to look at his face and found Rowan’s bright green eyes peering down at her. Concern lay heavy in his eyes, like he was hesitant to let her go. When she offered him a small smile, though, his features immediately softened. However subdued his returning grin was, the twitching of his mouth made it clear he was holding a bigger smile back. It was so cute that the urge to kiss him was damn near overwhelming.

“Better?” He asked just before she could act on that impulse. Tattooed fingers still trickled over her skin, now moving to her upper arms since her back was harder to reach. Aelin nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as he said, “I have a question.”

“I have an answer.” Readjusting where she lay, she moved one hand under her head and dropped her other back over his waist. Their lips were inches apart, and she caught his eyes dipping down to her mouth. Being so close was tempting the both of them, it seemed, but she knew he wouldn’t push that line unless she did first. If he asked, she very well might say yes.

“I think you called me your boyfriend this morning,” he said carefully, like she was running water trying to slip through his fingers at any given moment.

“That’s not a question,” she pointed out, one eyebrow quirking up.

“I…” Rowan’s eyes darted over her face then up to the ceiling while he gathered his thoughts. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

Aelin wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that. The short answer was yes, for the most part. The long answer? That was complicated. There were doubts swimming in her head about being in a relationship. Sometimes she didn’t know if she could ever be all into one ever again. It didn’t mean she didn’t want to be, but after the last one blew up so spectacularly in her face and left her burned and scarred… Opening her heart like that was scary.

“It means… It means that you’re on probation.” Each word was slowly pulled from her mouth. The slight disappointment on his face tugged at every string that led to her heart and forced her to sit up and scrub at her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry if I’m pushing,” Rowan said immediately, sitting up next to her and doing his best to add a few inches between them. The left side of her body was cold without his warmth, and against her better judgment she put her hand on his thigh to keep him from wiggling too far away.

“You’re not. It’s– I–”

“I understand if you need more time and space to work this out,” he told her, letting her weave her fingers through his. Gods, she didn’t have enough words in her vocabulary to fully express how much it wasn’t him, not really.

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet. There are things I want to tell you that I’ve never told another soul. Not Aedion, not Lysandra, definitely not my parents. But there are things that I haven’t fully coped with yet and I need to figure it out first for myself. It isn’t… this sounds so cliche, but it isn’t you. Not entirely. I’m not holding how you reacted against you, Rowan. Especially not after what you told me about Lyria. I just need to figure myself out first.”

“Is it connected to why you didn’t want our relationship to become anything more than something fun?” A tattooed finger traced the tendons and veins on the back of her hand. When she looked at his face, Rowan paused and looked up at her.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I… I was in a really bad relationship. It took me a long time to get out of it. Sometimes I feel like I’ve only really just started coming back into myself. I have thrown myself into work so aggressively since I started the foundation to distract myself. But you… you made me feel awake for the first time in a really long time. I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I know I’ll get there eventually, but it’s so much to unravel. I just… I need you to be patient with me.”

It was a teensy, tiny baby step forward. It was something, though. More than she thought she could offer him to begin with. The truth of the words scared her more than anything else. She did want to talk to him about everything, but that also meant allowing herself to trust him fully.

Part of her brain didn’t want to allow it. Freely trusting had bitten her in the ass with very sharp teeth and shredded her down to nothing. Ever since Aedion showed up, she wondered if Lysandra had been so worried about her spiraling that she sent him to stop it before it got too out of hand. Up until she decided to make the trip to Wendlyn, she had been a shell of her former self. When discussing it with her family, while they fully supported the expansion of Fireheart, they had decided they wouldn’t– or couldn’t– leave her on her own for the several months she would be living out of the country.

On the other hand, they seemed to understand that getting out of Orynth for a little while would be good for her. So many memories, more bad than good, haunted every corner of the city she loved so fiercely. It was agreed that it would be beneficial for her to get away for a little while.

Her parents had hated the idea initially. With her anxiety and depression at an all time high, letting her out of sight for more than a few days or weeks was pushing it. Her dad had come around first, then talked her mom into being okay with it. By the time she was packed and ready to leave, her mental health was on the rise. Just the idea of getting away from Orytnh had already started to lift her spirits. The night before she left she vowed to video call at least once a week, and so far she had stuck to her word.

The night she met Rowan, something changed. Aelin couldn’t put her finger on what it was, exactly, but somewhere between their banter and his determination to make her appreciate soccer, something was thrumming through her veins again. It was like he had shaken her awake, a new clarity settling into her mind. For the first time in years, she felt like herself.

And it scared the absolute shit out of her.

“Hey. Where did you go?” His voice pulled her mind back to the present as his finger hooked under her chin and guided her face to look at him. Rowan’s brows were pulled in tightly together, worry written all over his face as plainly as if he’d vocalized it.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, trying to look away from the intensity in his gaze. He didn’t let her.

“I’m not going anywhere, Aelin. I can be patient. I can and will give you whatever you want, whatever you need. I’ll be here.”

She wasn’t sure when tears had started to slip down her cheeks, but they were damp. Rowan’s face softened as he leaned forward and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her face one by one. When he leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss against her forehead, then her temple. A desperation to melt into him rose within her like a wave, but anxiety about her past wouldn’t let her give into the temptation.

“One more question,” Rowan said once her tears were dry, pulling back until just their noses were touching. The idle pattern his thumb traced below her ear felt so lovely she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes.

“Hm?”

“If you’re calling me your boyfriend, do I get to call you my girlfriend?” It wasn’t what she was expecting, and she had her suspicions that he was asking partially as a distraction. Either way, a surprised laugh slipped through her lips as she looked up at him.

“You can call it whatever you want to, Ro.”

When he smiled, broad and unrestrained before pressing another sweet, lingering kiss to her temple, a thought clanged through her like a bell. Maybe it was a warning. Maybe it was a celebration. She couldn’t be sure.

What Aelin knew was that she wanted to fall in love with him. And that was the single most terrifying thought she’d ever had in her life.

~*~

A while later, everyone was showered and dressed to go out for dinner. Aelin had emerged from her room in a simple, oversized t-shirt dress, and Rowan was struck once again by how beautiful she was. It wasn’t the first time it had hit him that day, but the little smile she gave him was enough to make his stomach flip almost violently.

Aelin drove, and despite Rowan insisting Aedion sit in the front, he rode in the passenger seat beside her. The drive to the heart of the city was quick, the two cousins arguing over music choices almost up until she parked the car. The way they ribbed each other reminded Rowan so much of Enda and Sellene, and he was absolutely positive that she would perfectly fit into his family with ease.

Though the restaurant was busy for a Monday evening, they didn’t have to wait for a table. Aedion called ahead before they left the apartment and they were quickly ushered back to a table in the back corner. Apparently, this was one of Aelin’s favorite places and she often ordered soup for lunch on days she wasn’t feeling well at work.

“Are you feeling okay?” Rowan asked once they were seated. Ever since the orange juice incident, he was hyper-aware of how sensitive she was to smells. The delicious aroma of pasta and garlic didn’t seem to bother her, though, because she nodded eagerly while opening her menu.

“I’m fucking starving.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve eaten more in the last few days than I’ve ever seen you eat in your entire life,” Aedion joked, and Aelin gave him a flat look.

“Clearly you don’t remember dance competition season very well.” Rowan’s eyebrows went up, eyes snagging on her face again.

“Dance competitions?” He asked.

“I danced competitively until I graduated high school. Rehearsals were intense leading up to it, and even though my instructor was constantly harping about watching my figure,” she paused to roll her eyes, “I ate damn near constantly.”

“She used to eat us all out of house and home,” Aedion agreed, to which Aelin snorted.

“Don’t even start with that shit.” Aelin shook her head as she looked at Rowan, pointing at Aedion with her arm stretched across the table and a finger in his face. She was quick to pull her hand back onto their side of the table when her cousin moved to grab it. “I know you’ll be able to relate to this, but our moms had to double every recipe we ever had for dinner because this asshole would eat enough to feed a family of four in one sitting.”

“My mom did the same thing. If there was ever anything leftover I would wind up eating it later in the night,” Rowan confirmed, and Aelin laughed.

“I feel like you don’t eat quite that much anymore, but you get pretty close. I always wondered why you ate so much after coaching a game. Things made so much more sense when I found out you were a dirty little liar.” Rowan didn’t have time to wonder if it was a genuine jab or not– her brilliant smile told him she was teasing. He shrugged his shoulders as he looked back at the menu, fighting back a grin of his own.

“Go easy on him, Fireheart. He had to make sure you weren’t in it for the money.” Aelin cackled so loudly at Aedion’s little quip that she received a few glares from nearby tables. Despite the joke being wholly at his expense, Rowan chuckled, too. Her hand found his knee under the table and squeezed.

The waitress saved him from the jokes going any further, each of them ordering drinks and Aelin requesting two appetizers to start. Aedion had given her a look like she was proving his earlier statement. She merely sat back, patted her stomach and said, “I’m eating for two.”

~*~

Rowan had just finished his second old-fashioned and while he didn’t feel buzzed in the slightest, he was more relaxed than he had been all week.

Dinner was nothing more than scraps and crumbs on their plates, their glasses empty. Aelin had her chin in her hand while Aedion talked about working on the business side of things for Orynth’s football team. Everything he had to do could be done from anywhere, which was why he had dropped everything to fly out to see Aelin.

They had filled Rowan in on his surprise arrival, and while he felt guilty that she was struggling so much, he was happy they were getting time together. Aelin had reassured him that it wasn’t necessarily about what he said to her, and more about having always been surrounded by family, yet his heart still twinged that he added additional stress. The comforting pat she gave his thigh did little to quell his worries, but the fact that she was touching him in a casual way again was a step forward he couldn’t ignore.

Rowan stole the check from the waitress before either of the other two could even reach for it. He had seen Aelin pull her wallet out of her purse and refused to let her pay for anyone. Maybe it was a subtle way of trying to amend things, maybe it was just how his mother raised him. Maybe it was both and he wanted to prove it didn’t matter.

Rowan handed his card back to the waitress and leaned back in his chair, one arm draping over the back of Aelin’s. He toyed with the ends of her hair until she cleared her throat and nodded at Rowan. With an eyebrow raised, he turned to find a boy, no older than seven, with black hair and wide, brown eyes hesitantly approaching the table. A sketchbook was clutched to his chest and his fingers were wrapped tightly around a pen. The shirt was the same color as Rowan’s home jersey, and he was willing to bet the logo was hiding behind his arms.

A big part of Rowan loved fan interactions, especially with kids. Another part of him was nervous about what Aelin would think. Was it off putting that these things tended to happen to him when he went anywhere besides the Neon Moon? They were just starting to make some sort of progress. He didn’t want this to be what chased her away.

Aelin surprised him, though, by leaning forward so she could address the boy directly as she said, “Hi sweetheart. What’s your name?”

“Finn,” he said, twisting his mouth to the side as he looked down at his sketchbook. A few tables over, a woman around his age watched him carefully. It must be his mother.

“Hi, Finn. My name is Aelin. This is my friend Rowan and my cousin Aedion,” she paused while he nodded, but he said nothing else like he was too nervous to speak. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you’re a big soccer fan.”

“Football,” Rowan murmured to her, and the boy cracked a wide grin as he nodded. Rowan smiled back at him, unable to resist when he was missing his two front teeth. “Would you like an autograph?”

Again, his head bobbed up and down, flopping his hair into his eyes. Aelin chuckled beside him, sitting back while Rowan took the pen and paper from Finn and scribbled his signature across a blank page.

“If you want get your mom, she could take a picture of you two,” Aelin offered, and the little boy looked out of his mind excited as he weaved through the tables to get his mother.

“I’m so sorry,” Rowan said softly, running his hand up and down her thigh. Aedion watched from across the table, a content smile on his face.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s sweet.” A weight lifted off his chest at her words and he nodded in thanks, giving her knee a light squeeze as Finn and his mom approached.

Since they were ready to leave, Aelin and Aedion excused themselves from the table as to not be in the picture. Within a few moments it was over and done with and he joined the cousins at the front of the restaurant, leading Aelin out with a hand on her back.

“Do you have to go back tonight or can you stay another day?” Aelin asked as they walked toward the car. Aedion walked several steps ahead of them, hands in his pockets and whistling a tune as the sky turned from shades of pink and orange to purple.

“I go back Wednesday. Malakai asked me what was going on, I told him I had some things in my personal life, and he told me to take a couple days if I needed them.” Malakai hadn’t seemed upset about Rowan missing two days of practice. He wouldn’t be playing at this week's game, anyway, and his coach was well aware that he never let himself slip out of shape.

“Then I suppose I should call my mother tomorrow and properly introduce the two of you. Dad, too, if he’s around.” She sighed and patted his shoulder as he pulled open the driver’s side door for her, waiting until she was fully inside to shut the door.

Rowan hadn’t formally met anyone’s parents probably ever, unles the girl he took to senior prom counter. Hopefully he made a good impression.

~*~

He wasn’t sure what woke him up, all he knew was that when he reached across Aelin’s to pull her closer to him, her side was empty and cool. The bedroom was bathed in night, the only light squeezing through the gap beneath the bedroom door. Though the apartment was mostly quiet, Rowan was immediately worried that she had found herself sick.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed, not bothering to grab his shirt before entering the hall. The bathroom door was open, but the room was dark. Out here away from the white noise of the fan on her bedside table, Rowan heard crinkling from the kitchen and followed the sound to investigate.

Aelin stood at the counter facing toward him using nothing more than the dim light above the stove to see. All she wore was a sports bra and the pair of shorts she’d stripped down to for sleeping. A chip bag was in one hand and she was staring down into a bowl, using some sort of silverware to poke at the contents within. He paused and leaned against the door frame, folding his arms over his chest and waiting for her to notice him.

When she lifted the utensil to her mouth, something globbed off from the bottom and either fell back into the bowl or onto the counter, he couldn’t be sure. The look on her face was pure joy as she brought it to her mouth and–

“What the fuck, Rowan!” She squealed, fork clattering onto the counter. The chips in her hand fell to the floor and whatever dark substance she was about to devour splattered on the counter. Her eyes darted nervously toward Aedion’s door, likely worry he would wake up from her shouting, but no sounds came from beyond the hall.

“What are you doing in here, love?” Rowan prowled toward her, noticing the blush that took over her cheeks the closer he got.

“I wanted a snack,” she bristled, bending down to pick the chip bag up off the floor. When she righted herself, he saw it was a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos. Leaning one hip against the counter he stuck his hand in to pull one out.

“What is this?” He pointed toward the bowl with his chip before popping it into his mouth. It could have been the light, but he was pretty sure Aelin was red from head to toe. With her lips glued together it was clear he wouldn’t be getting a direct answer out of her. Rowan leaned down and sniffed, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. “Chocolate?”

“Mhm.” She picked up the mess of a blob from the counter, and it was then that he realized what she was doing.

“Are you dipping hot cheetos into chocolate?”

“It’s dark chocolate.” Like that made it any better. His bewildered expression didn’t waver enough for her liking because she frowned at him and pointed toward her room. “If you’re going to judge me, get out of my kitchen.”

“You’re dipping hot cheetos into melted chocolate.”

“Spicy chocolate is a thing!” She cried, smacking at his chest. Rowan’s lips twitched at her defensive nature. Even her fingers had chocolate on them. From this close, he could see the corner of her mouth did, too.

“Where did you even get this idea?” Another cheeto was stolen from the bag in her hand. He hadn’t had these in years.

“Well, I just,” she sighed, brushing her hair from her face exasperatedly. To save her from fighting with her hair, he moved behind her and carefully pulled it into a ponytail. Once it was secured with the hair tie on his wrist, she mumbled a thank you. Aelin looked the part of a five year old getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and it was fucking adorable. “I was just laying there and wanted something spicy but then I wanted something sweet. And then I had the brilliant idea of sweet and spicy at the same time and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“So you–”

“It’s not that weird, okay! I’ve seen and heard other people do worse and it’s so good.” She dipped one half way and held it up, twisting to look at him over shoulder. Rowan shook his head, ready to apologize for not wanting to try it, but Aelin simply shrugged and dropped it into the bowl.

“I’m going to take your word for it,” he teased, rubbing his hands over her shoulders. Aelin leaned back into him, her body warm where their bare skin touched. Her eyes once again focused on using the fork to coat the cheeto in dark chocolate. When she lifted it out, it was a dark little lump. The bowl being nearly empty with half-solid chocolate glued to its walls had him wondering how long she’d been out here doing this. “Why aren’t you just dipping?”

“Because the whole thing has to be covered for the ratio,” she said, like it was the dumbest question she had ever heard. Like it was common sense, and not just a concoction her pregnant brain had made up at three in the morning.

“Right, right.” Rowan agreed like it was obvious. That seemed to satisfy her because she hummed contentedly before putting the little log into her mouth, chewing slowly to savor it.

“Issogood,” she mumbled, half moaning. Aelin moaning while he was half awake was the last thing he needed to hear. It made his body high alert in all the wrong places, and he stepped out from behind her and nodded toward her bedroom.

“Let’s go back to bed. We can clean this up in the morning and then I’ll take you to get all the spicy chocolate you desire.”

“Promise?” She asked, sucking the half-melted goo from her thumb with wide eyes as she looked up at him. Rowan chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“I promise.”

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