#I had this all written by late afternoon

[roosterforme]

Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust. 

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause. 

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio. 

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight. 

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation. 

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters. 

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?" 

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face. 

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox. 

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand. 

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand. 

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you. 

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite." 

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning." 

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you. 

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him. 

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked. 

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it. 

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning. 

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all. 

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps. 

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties. 

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars." 

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest. 

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile. 

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin. 

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

------------------------

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing. 

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment. 

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

------------------------

The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[thetriumphantpanda]

she a bad lil bitch, she a rebel | joel miller

Summary | Joel has to teach you a damn lesson, just like always.

Pairing | Brat Tamer!Joel x F!Reader

Word Count | 4K

Warnings | brat tamer!Joel, softdom!Joel, praise kink, implied age gap, spanking, use of rope restraints, hair-pulling, edging, orgasm denial, squirting, (1) singular pussy slap, unprotected PiV sex, rough sex, oral sex (M&F receiving), face-fucking, fingering, dirty talk, breath play, biting, cum play/cum eating, reader is a bratty menace, aftercare(!), no use of y/n.

Authors Note | All I'm going to say is this came to me in a dream and I had to get it down on paper. Mostly written on my phone with very little proofreading, so any mistakes are my own and I will live and die by them. This is basically just pure filth. Enjoy, and happy birthday to that old man. I love him but I would give him the hardest time, just like reader.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

If there was one thing that you lived for, it was pushing Joel Miller’s patience. The poor man had wandered into Jackson, little girl in tow, looking worn and weary almost a year ago, and from the moment you set eyes on him, you just knew you had to give this old man a run for his money. 

You’d started subtle, flirting with him on patrol, taking his distaste at your attempt to talk to him at every second as a personal challenge to break him, to work him down just enough to make your move. After a couple of weeks, he’s started talking, mainly in single word answers, but you’d managed to slowly chip him down. 

Then came the weekly drinks at The Tipsy Bison, everyone on patrol usually went, apart from those scheduled to be out that day, but he’d started laughing at your jokes and had even opted to sit next to you on occasion. Then one night, he’d walked you home, you’d had one too many glasses of whiskey, kissed him on the porch but agreed it wasn’t right to fuck right then, but he’d come back, that next night, both of you sober, and you’d kissed him again, and the rest really was history. 

It’s late afternoon when he comes through his front door, toeing his boots off as the door slams behind him. You’ve been led on his couch for most of the afternoon, reading a book you’d plucked from his shelf – some nonsense Western that did nothing to keep your attention, but was enough to keep you occupied whilst you waited for him to come home. 

“Afternoon,” You sing to him as he shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat stand near the door, “Good patrol?” 

“Was fine,” He grumbles, just like he always does, he swats at your legs to get you to move them enough for him to sit down, “Scoot,” You lift them up just long enough for him to ease himself onto the couch, before you put them back down on his lap, abandoning the book on the coffee table, “You sort the stuff in the kitchen like I asked?” 

“No.” You say simply, shaking your head, subtly digging the heel of your foot into the front of his jeans. 

His big palm circles your ankle, gripping in warning, “What about the sheets, you wash ‘em?”

“Did you see them pegged out when you came home?” You ask, sweetly, using your other foot now to dig into his jeans. 

“Will you fuckin’ quit it?” He seethes a little, other hand gripping your other ankle to still you, “What have you done all day, huh?” He implores, “I don’t keep ya around to lounge about lookin’ pretty.” 

You chuckle, “That’s exactly why you keep me around, old man.” 

“Shut up,” He squeezes at your ankles, “I asked you a question, you gonna answer me?” 

You shrug, “Woke up late,” You hold up one finger, “Felt horny so I got myself off,” Another finger, “Had a shower, used the last of that nice soap,” Another finger, “Made lunch,” Another finger, “And then led here reading one of your stupid books until you came home.” A final finger raised so you’re holding up and entire hand, palm facing towards him. 

You’re looking at him, all scowling face and dark eyes as his fingers wrap even tighter around your ankles. If you didn’t know him like you did, you’d be frightened, but you know he’s just thinking about the best way to deal with you. You wonder which of his lessons he’s going to bring out today as the look he’s giving you shoots straight down to your core. 

“I ask you to do two things,” He sighs, like he’s tired, “I ain’t exactly expectin’ slave labour from you, and you sit here and treat it like the Hilton?” 

“What’s the Hilton?” You ask, genuinely curious, thinking it must have been something from the times before all this, the times you were too young to remember. 

“Forget it.” He growls, and you think any minute now he’s gonna move to drag you off and show you just how bad you’ve been, but he doesn’t move, just sits with your ankles clasped in his hands, staring at the wall in front of him. 

“I’ve been so bad Joel,” You goad, trying to wriggle your ankles free, “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?” 

“No,” He spits, “I ain’t, because you like it too damn much, ain’t teachin’ you anythin’ because you never learn.” 

You pout a little, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Promise to listen real hard this time Joel,” You promise, “Try and learn and much as possible.” 

“No,” He speaks, stern tone, with a warning squeeze to your ankles again, “Been a long day, don’t have the energy to bring you into line.” 

“Ah, I see,” You muse, “You’re feeling too old today.” 

“What did you just say t’me?” He’s incredulous now, good, you’ve got him just where you want him. 

“Oh, nothing,” You giggle, “Don’t worry.” 

It seems to do the trick though, because he’s pushing himself up from the couch, gripping at your wrist now to pull you up as well. He pushes you gently by the small of your back to get you to walk in front of him, “Upstairs.” Is the only instruction he gives, along with a playful swat to your bottom as you start up the stairs. 

He’s crowding behind you, always following just one step behind as you make your way to his bedroom, suddenly aware that you didn’t make the bed when you rolled out of this morning. That’s surely another black mark to your name, you think, as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“Get undressed.” 

This is new, normally Joel liked to be the one to unwrap you, but you start working on the buttons of your shirt, undoing it and dropping it to the floor, followed closely behind by your jeans, leaving you standing in front of him in your underwear, “All of it.” He demands. 

Your hands shakily reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging it from your body to land with the rest of your clothes. You drag your panties down your legs and step out of them, wrapping your arms across your chest to try and cover yourself a little. Joel reaches out a hand to you, which you take timidly, expecting him to pull you into him so he could put his mouth on you, anywhere, but instead, you find yourself pulled to him and folded over his lap so quickly you let out a surprised yelp. 

“So fuckin’ naughty, all the damn time baby,” He speaks softly, running his fingers down the length of your spine, “Don’t ever think you’ll learn how to be good.” 

His hand trails down to your bare ass, gripping the skin with his hands, using his other arm to press you down into his lap, rough material of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive peaks of your tits and the soft skin of your tummy. He rubs his rough palm over the globes of your ass, anticipation building in your body. Then, he pulls away, bringing his palm down onto your ass with a satisfying ‘smack’ ringing through the air. It takes a while for your brain to catch up with what’s just happened, but then the stinging sensation settles across your skin and has you wriggling to get away. 

“Keep still,” Joel chastises, free hand digging further into the small of your back to keep you from moving, “That’s one, how many do you think you deserve baby?” He muses, “Fifty?” 

“W-what?!” You exclaim, “N-no Joel, that’s too much.” 

“Forty then?” His palm is cradling at the skin he’s just spanked. 

“T-ten?” You offer feebly. 

“Oh baby girl,” He tuts at you, “Aim higher.” 

“Fifteen?” 

“How about we settle for twenty, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet, “Twenty seems reasonable to me.” 

He doesn’t give you time to agree, it would seem the bargaining time is over, as he brings his palm back down onto your ass, harder than before, but in the same exact place. It jolts you on his lap, makes you cry out. The front of your body dragging against his denim. 

“How many?” He asks, rubbing his hand over the skin he’s just spanked. 

“Two.” You reply quietly, trying to keep the whimper you want to let out to yourself. 

“Good girl,” He praises, raising his hand again, “Keep count for me, okay?” 

Smack.

“Three!” You shriek, as his palm yet again connects with that same patch of skin. 

Smack.

“F-four.” 

Smack.

“Oh fuck,” You groan, trying to wriggle away unsuccessfully, it’s already too much, “Five!”

Smack.

This one doesn’t hurt as much; Joel’s shifted the assault of his palm onto the virgin side of your ass for you. You suck in a deep breath, try and blink away the tears that have formed in your eyes, as his hand massages where it’s just struck. He gives you another four on that cheek, and then switches back to the original, bringing his palm back down onto the skin that you’re sure is reddening by now. 

“Joel!” You cry out, tears dropping from your eyes now, but your body betrays you and arches your back for him, pushing your ass up like you’re asking for it, “E-eleven.” 

It carries on like that, five spanks to each cheek until you’re practically sobbing over his lap. You count the twentieth spank and a feeling of relief washes over you as he bends over you to press a light kiss to the sore skin he’s left. It makes you hiss, the contact, no matter how gentle he is with it. Then, he’s shifting you off his lap and onto the bed, letting you scurry away to the top of the mattress as he stands. 

The stinging of the skin of your ass is still making you sniffle as Joel shuffles to the bedside table, digging around in it. You’re not quite sure what he’s looking for, focusing mainly on trying to keep the red raw skin of your ass off the sheets, when he stands, throwing what he was looking for onto the sheets next to you. You turn your head and see the length of rope that he keeps in his drawer just for moments like this. 

“Arms up.” He short with you, sitting on his knees next to you. 

You do as you’re told, raising your arms above your head, still pushing your ass off the bed, but knowing soon enough you’ll be focused on something else that isn’t the stinging sensation of your ass. He takes your wrists and binds them together deftly, like it’s a walk in the park for him, like it’s something he does all the time. Then, once he’s sure your wrists are safely encased in rope, he takes the other end and ties it to his bed frame. He tugs slightly to make sure the way he’ll have you thrashing soon means that you won’t be able to pull yourself free. 

“That okay?” He asks gruffly, to which you nod, “Words, baby.” 

“Y-yes,” You stammer, “It’s okay.” 

“Remember your word?” He asks, stepping off the bed to partially undress, shucking his jeans and flannel off, but keeping his t-shirt and boxers on. 

“I remember.” 

He hums in approval, settling himself on the bed between your thighs, using wide palms to spread you open for him. You’re absolutely soaked, pussy dripping with slick from his palms and the way he’s trussed you up to his bed. 

Joel lets out a low whistle, letting his thumb rub up the length of your folds, “See,” He murmurs, using his thumb to gently spread the lips of your pussy to reveal your clit, already swollen and begging for attention, “Told ya that ya liked being punished too much,” He lets his thumb make a single swipe over that bundle of nerves, chuckling as you cry out, hips bucking to try and follow his finger, “She’s already fuckin’ soaked for me, baby.” 

You let out a high-pitched mewl, a begging sound that you hope tells him that you need him to touch you, you need to feel the pleasure you know he’s capable of after the pain he’s just inflicted. Mercifully he obliges, pressing the calloused pad of his thumb back to your clit, slick gathered there from before, as he starts rubbing in fast, precise circles. You’ve been so worked up that you can already feel the coil tightening in your tummy, and you know Joel can sense it as well, the way your hips are moving in time to his movements and the way you’re arching your back off the bed are a dead giveaway. 

You can feel yourself reaching that peak, so fucking close to tipping over the edge when he tears his hand away from your core and sits back, watching as you try and move back towards him, moaning in frustration at being left high and dry. You’re wriggling about, trying to close your thighs to rub them together to get yourself off, when he pushes a wide palm into your belly. He’s so powerful in the best way, stilling your movements immediately as you look up at him, face serious. 

“Remind me what the second thing on your list was this mornin’, baby?” He asks, voice as innocent as pie. 

You’re wracking your brain, lust making you more confused about what the fuck he’s even talking about. Then it dawns on you, what you’d told him downstairs. Felt horny so I got myself off. 

“You’ve got a big brain baby,” He coos, one palm squeezing your thigh, “I know you remember, so go on, tell me what you did.” 

“I g-got myself off.” 

“And is that what good girls do?” He asks, hand ghosting back to your pussy, knuckles of his hand brushing over your skin there. 

“N-no?” You question. 

“That’s right,” He hums, fingers slipping between your folds once more to gather some of the insane amount of slick that’s pooling at your aching entrance, “And besides, gettin’ to come is a reward, and I ain’t sure you deserve that right now.” 

His thumb is back on your clit now, moving in exactly the same way as before, with just the right amount of pressure to be building you back up. It feels so fucking good already and you know the way it feels when he tips you over the edge, you know how delicious it is and God, you want it so bad. 

“Please Joel,” You beg, all throaty and lust-filled, “I’ll be so good, I promise.” 

“Maybe ya should’a thought about that earlier,” He growls, “Before you came without me, thought you could do it better than me, huh?” 

“No!” You exclaim, because that’s definitely not true, you could never make yourself feel the way he does, “Oh God, please Joel.” You’re so fucking close, just a few more passes of his thumb and you could do it, you know you could, but so does he, which is why he’s tearing his thumb away from you again. 

You actually cry now, tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you thrash around on the bed, hissing when the rope around your wrist digs in but not caring all that much. 

“Quit your cryin’.” He chastises, hand on your hip to keep you still. 

You whimper, lip wobbling, trying to keep your cool. All you want is to reach out to him. You think if you could touch him, he would give you what you want, so you’re pretty sure that’s why he’s got you tied to the damn bed, to keep himself in check, to see this through, because Joel Miller always folds to you when you put your hands on him, weak man that he is. 

“You’re being so mean.” You cry out as he shifts, lying flat on his stomach so you can feel his breath on your aching pussy. 

“You were the one beggin’ to get punished baby,” And it smarts because it’s true, “I’m only givin’ you what you wanted.” 

He leans forward, tongue licking a stripe through your pussy, all the way up to your clit where he sucks the little bud into his mouth, rolls it between his lips and then lets it pop from his mouth like an ice-pop. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue a few times and you suck in a breath, your fingernails digging painfully into the palm of your hands as you focus on trying to reach the cliff edge and fall over it this time. 

You’re holding your breath, hips working in time with the movements of his mouth, eyes screwed shut just trying to focus on how good it feels. You can hear the rustling of sheets, which means if you were to open your eyes and look down at him, you’d find him grinding himself into the bedsheets for his own relief. He pulls off you, and you’re about to curse him out when he speaks. 

“You wanna come, baby?” He asks, punctuating it with a flick of his tongue. 

“Oh please Joel,” You beg, and even to your ears it sounds wrecked and pathetic, “Please let me come.” 

Then, you’re shrieking because the palm that has dealt so much damage to your ass this evening, has now swatted your aching cunt, “No.” He says simply, pushing himself back up and onto his knees. 

He pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him. You’re squirming as he shucks off his boxers, moving awkwardly to kick them off, before he’s mounting your body, those strong thighs straddling your chest as his throbbing cock rests just millimetres from your mouth. He reaches down, let’s his fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls your head forward roughly. Your mouth, like muscle-memory takes over, opens, and the head of his cock slips over your tongue. You can already taste the salty beads of pre-cum as he shuffles forward a little, easing his cock into your mouth until it’s hitting the back of your throat. 

He holds your head steady with the fingers tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat. The sound is obscene, practically pornographic, the wet sounds that come as the head of his cock meets the back of your throat on every thrust. He pulls out of your mouth every now and then, when he’s thrust too hard and makes you gag on him, but fucking hell it’s turning you on so much. You can feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets, you don’t think anything has ever made you this wet before. 

He pulls his cock out of your mouth one last time, a string of saliva connecting him to your mouth until he pulls away enough for it break, laying wet across your chin and down your neck. Joel shuffles back down your body and you think finally, you’re going to get some relief. 

He hooks your knees over his arms, pushing them forward to your chest as his throbbing cock slips through your folds. He rocks his hips a few times, the bulbous head of him swiping over your clit, before he unexpectedly buries himself into your soaked cunt in one go. 

You actually sob at the feeling. You’ve been so empty all night, and now you’re so full of him, so crowded by his body, that you finally feel some kind of relief. He’s still for a moment – once it would have been to get you used to the heft of him inside you, but right now, you know it’s because he’s just as fucked as you are, and he wants to make sure you’ve truly learnt your lesson. 

Once he’s collected himself, he sets a bruising pace. Cock dragging out of your slick heat and slamming back into you. He revels in the way your tits bounce with every thrust, so much so that he leans forward and bites at the flesh, sucking bruises into your skin as he pounds himself right into the very depth of you. 

“Doin’ so good for me baby,” He groans out against your skin, sucking your nipple into his mouth, letting it go with a wet pop as he pushes himself back up for me, “Takin’ your punishment so well.” 

The angle he’s got you folded into means the head of his cock is brushing against the spongy spot inside you every time. Your pussy is clenched so tightly around him that it’s a miracle he’s held on for this long. He finally brings his thumb back to your clit and you’re begging this time that he’ll let you finish, because if he doesn’t you’re pretty sure you might actually die. 

“Joel,” You mewl, “I’m g-gonna – holy shit – m’gonna come.” 

“Go on baby,” He finally relents, you let out a sob of relief, “Come on my cock for me, like a good girl.” 

It’s so overwhelming when it finally happens. Your vision blurs and blood rushes to your ears, blocking out any sound that isn’t the beating of your pulse. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him as pleasure finally floods through every inch of your body. You feel yourself literally gush on his cock, soaking his skin, your skin, the bedsheets beneath you. You think you might even scream his name as your body convulses and shakes, arches up into him. 

You’re slightly aware of him pulling his cock from inside you, letting your knees drop. You can hear the slap of his fist on his skin as he fists his cock, and then he’s growling out your name, his cum spattering over your tummy, lying hot and thick on your sticky skin. It’s silent for a good few moments, the only thing you can focus on is the sound of you both sucking in breath to your lungs and the burn of the rope around your wrists. 

“Look at me.” Joel demands, and you do, your eyes meeting his, which are almost black with lust, his face flushed, sweat pooling at his hairline. 

He drags a finger through the pools of his cum, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He presses them into the flat of your tongue, letting you swallow, which continues until you’ve cleaned every inch of him from your skin. He then works quickly to untie the knots that have you bound to the bed, freeing your skin from the burning feeling that’s settled there. 

“Stay still,” It’s still demanding, but it’s softer now, as he gets off the bed, dropping the rope to the floor, “I’ll be right back.” 

He comes back moments later with a glass of water and a cool cloth. He rolls you over onto your tummy, pressing the cool material to your ass, trying to soothe the red welts of his handprints that have already started to form. He presses soothing, open-mouth kisses to the skin before he rolls you back over onto your back. 

He moves you because you’re pliant now, to rest against the pillows, handing you the water to drink as he runs the last of the cooling cloth over your lower tummy and through the folds of your spent cunt, then it’s discarded to the floor with everything else, and you’re being pulled to his chest, kiss pressed to your forehead. 

“Too much?” He asks quietly, checking to make sure he hasn’t crossed some line with you. 

“Just perfect.” You reply, eye-lids heavy with sleep. 

He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, letting his tongue lick soothing stripes along the reddened skin there, kissing every now and then, but keeping you pressed tightly to his chest, you own arm draped around his waist.

“You learn your lesson?” He asks then. 

“Probably not,” You hum against the sweaty skin of his chest, “I don’t think you’re ever going to fuck the attitude outta me, Miller.” 

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine (carol's edition)

you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here. a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall. tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.

The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.

For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.

He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.

The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out. Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off. "Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"

"What're y--" He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.

"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!" He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.

"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?" "Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay." "Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.

"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer. "Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."

"Why?" The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.

"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit." He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.

"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..." "Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up." He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time. He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what? Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.

"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side. "I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."

"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli. "And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"

"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."

"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.

"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- " "Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me." You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.

In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture. "You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."

You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.

"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."

"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."

"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"

You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out." "What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose. "Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version." "You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.

"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."

You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.

"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."

"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."

"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."

"It's fine--"

A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.

"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"

"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"

"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.

"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."

"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.

"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."

"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.

"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."

"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."

"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name." "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light. "How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"

You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall. "Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable." You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy." "'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob." He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee. "Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.

"Can I open the card?"

"Sure."

"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.

You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."

"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"

"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap." You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. "Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"

"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."

"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."

"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only. "So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.

"No, that'll be later," you smirk.

"Hm?' his brows raise.

"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.

"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.

"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway. "Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."

You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.

Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.

After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday. And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.

[ynsvnte]

Did I do the job right sir? — Park Jongseong

Genre: smut (18+ MDNI!!), CEO’s son, workplace, enemies to lovers? Older reader, fake text, drabble

Word count: 1.6k+

Warnings: older reader (Only by 2-3 years), blowjob, office sex, swearing, spanking, degradation, protective sex, doggystyle, hair-pulling. kissing.

Pairing: ceoson!Jay x fem!reader

Masterlist

You hear the sound of your alarm going off. You reach over and grab your phone, turning it off. You sigh before checking the time.. 7:36 AM.. another day of work..you groan out loud, not wanting to get out of bed.

You sink onto the bed, getting comfortable, trying to forget about work. You hear your phone ping. “What now..” you thought to yourself. You roll over, laying on your stomach and reach over to your phone, you look at the screen seeing a message from your boss.

You look at the message and set your phone down..guess there isn’t really much of a choice. You get out of bed and start getting ready.

You change your clothes and sit down on the bed. You really don’t want to go to work. But you wonder who’s taking over your boss’s spot for today..better not than be some old guy. You finally leave for work and make your way over.

Once upon your arrival everything seems normal. You only remember having to cancel a meeting that was set for the afternoon. You get out of your car and start walking inside. You see the receptionist, she smiles at you, making you smile back. You weren’t paying much attention causing you to bump into someone. Letting out a grunt you look up to see. A man. A man you despise so much. Jay. What is he doing here? Isn’t he supposed to be in college right now? You know he is working his way up so he can take over his dad’s position one day. Great way to start your day..seeing someone you despise so much.

“Like what you see?” A voice cuts off your thoughts.

“What no..just trying to go to my desk..sir” You say trying to let your annoyance show through. “Sir..? How respectful of you..” Really? Of course you had to address him as sir.. what else… “Why are you here?” You asked..looking up at him. “Me? Oh princess of course just taking over my dad’s place for today..and soon that ‘today’ maybe we’ll..let’s say about the next upcoming years.” He had a smug look planted on his face. His ego was big. You just nodded your head..you can’t believe someone like him will become your boss one day. He’s younger than you..? He can boss you around like some dog..you already knew today was going to be one hell of a day.

“Right..” you say lastly, before walking past him and walking away into the hallway. You make it to my desk and settle down my belongings. You take a seat before getting started on your work. You’re minding your business until you hear knocking on your desk you look up and see Jay. “Now what?” You think to yourself.

“Need anything sir?” You asked him. “Yeah..actually..meet me in my office..Don’t be late.” Jay said before walking away. You watched him walk away. Confusion written all over your face. What does he even want? Probably going to assign you more work to do. Isn’t that what he likes? Seeing you miserable. You sigh, and get up from your seat and make your way over to Jay’s office. You lightly knock on the door and hear a ‘come in’. You slowly open the door and see Jay typing something on his laptop before closing it. You walk inside, and go to his desk, you stand there awkwardly. “Soo..?” You asked, waiting for his response. “I want you to finish these for me..” Jay said, pulling out a stack of paper. Your eyes widened at the sight of the papers.. Of course he has to make your life a living hell.. what did you expect.. “What no? Isn’t that your job?” You said looking at him. “Yeah, but not in the mood to do them right now and they’re due quite soon soo..” You shake your head. Speaking up.. “Sir-this isn’t fair-“

“Quit being a brat..” You froze at his words. Brat? You’re a brat because you don’t want to do his work? “What the fuck-“ Jay silences you by putting his hand over your mouth.. “You talk too much, maybe I can make you shut up for once..cmon now get on your knees..” You do as he said and looked up at him. Well shit your ego is now being hurt. “You cause me a lot of stress..sweetie but don’t worry you cause a problem. I’ll make you fix it. Now suck my cock for me..” You want to shout at him, but unzip his zipper nonetheless. You can see his bulge through his boxers. Noticing his size. You slowly bring up your hand rubbing him. “Ah-shit. Don’t tease..” You move your hands upwards and pull his boxers down..revealing his cock.. gosh he’s an average-size but definitely slightly thicker. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock. Jay notices this and smirks. “You like this don’t you..?” He chuckles.. “oh shut up..” you roll your eyes before you start pumping his cock between your hands.

Jay's breath stops for a moment enjoying the sensation. You smirk at this and inch your mouth closer to his tips and press a kiss on his tip. Tasting the pre-cum you moan at this taste of it, making jay’s cock twitch. You look up at Jay and notice his staring at you. With lust only in his eyes.. “C’mon now..you can take the rest of it..unless you want me to force it down your throat.” Lord no..so you began to take the rest of him down your throat slickly gagging. Jay lets out a quiet moan. “Fuck your mouth..such a slut aren’t you?” You moan around his cock before pulling away. You bring one of your hands and begin to play with his balls while your other hand goes down to your skirt trying to relieve yourself. Gosh your panites are drenched by your slick.

“You’re enjoying this as much as I am..” You moan as a response. You started going faster. Trying to get Jay to reach his orgasm. You can feel Jay pull on your hair. And soon enough. Jay reaches his high, coming is due your mouth.. “Shit..take it slut..take it like a good little slut you are..” and so you do. You swallow his seed, moaning at the taste of it. “Get up..” Jay says, demanding you. You get up and face him. Only for him to harshly start kissing you. You kiss him back. Who knew you would get yourself in this situation. But you don’t mind. Jay pulls away from the kiss. Making a string of saliva..connecting to each other's mouth. Jay turns you around, and bends you over his desk moving the papers in his desk to the side. He begins to remove your skirt leaving you in your panties which happened to be lace. Jay smirks at the sight in front of him. Jay smacks your ass, causing you to moan.. “So you like this..? What did I expect..you’re a slut. But only for me..” well that made you clench around nothing. “Use words..want to hear how much you enjoy it..”

“Please—fuck..just fuck me..” you begged who knew your would sumbitting to someone who was younger than you. “Since you asked so nicely..” Jay opens his drawer and reveals a box of condoms. You wanted to ask but just keep quiet. He rolls the condom onto his cock before putting his hands on your hips. Jay takes off your panties, throwing them somewhere in his office.. “Such a pretty pussy..all for me..” and just like that you feel his tip near your entrance..you start to feel him push himself inside of you. You try to contain a moan. Not risking getting caught. Your eyes roll at the feeling of him filling you up. “Keep quiet for me..don’t wanna get caught do you..” You only shake your head not trusting your mouth..

Jay begins with slow thrusts, letting you get used to his size. But that does last very long before he starts pounding into your needy cunt. Balls slapping against it. Jay pulls your hair making your eyes meet. Jay kisses you. In hopes of getting you to quiet a bit..one hand is using to pull onto his hair, while he starts bringing his other to wrap around your waist and starts rubbing your clit. You gasp at this action. Making you clench into him. You both know that you both won’t last very long due to the amount of pleasure you’re both giving to each other. “Let it go..finish for me slut..come on my cock..” and just like spell you reach your high. Slightly shaking. Jay starts pounding faster in order to reach his own high.. not 10 seconds later. Jay comes into the condom..you moan at the feeling of him filling it up. Jay stays in you for a while..before pulling out of you.. You get goosebumps at the emptiness down there. You both start dressing up. Silence fills the air, you begin to look for your panties. But Jay looks up at you and coughs. You face him, see him holding them..

“Can I have those back..?” You asked.. jay smirks at you before saying.. “No I’ll think I keep this for myself you know for the memories..and don’t forget this isn’t the last time..” jay walks up to you and kisses your cheek, shoving your panties into his pocket..and then walking away..

Author’s Note: I didn’t want to do this but umm here it is 🥱 OH YEAH I LIKE THIS ONE FAV SMUT SO FAR LIKE TY YOU BRAIN FOR BEING SMART.. it’s 2 am Ik writing hmm..weird but that’s how it works I write very late at night..

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[thebimbopalace]

ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: finals week has put you through the wringer but luckily your handsome, wonderful, caring boyfriend has a special treat for you.

wc: 1k

ᡣ 𐭩 tags: fluffy fluff, sfw, older bf!nanami kento x fem!reader, established relationship, age gap (reader: early twenties, nanami: late twenties), reader’s in college, feminine pet names, teeny angst, one kiss, self-indulgent cause i wanna be loved like this

"keep those eyes closed hun," kento's honeyed voice hits your eardrums as his large hand envelopes yours. he guides you to. . .god knows where, all you know is that you're outside. the soft, calming breeze flows through your hair gently blowing your flowy pink spring dress behind you.

his eyes scan your beautiful ensemble and he thanks whatever deity that's in the sky that you happened to walk into his life one friday afternoon. "are we there yet ken?" you inquire excitedly as you tighten your grip on his hand. he smiles at your excitement "almost," as he tries to stifle a chuckle at your cuteness.

his free hand goes the the small of your back moving you in front of him as you both walk to this destination he spoke of earlier. his expensive cologne invades your nostrils and your body immediately relaxes at the close proximity. "can you at least tell me where we're going?" trying to coax it out of him. "then it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?"

a pretty pout graces your glossed lips as you turn your head to scrunch your already closed eyes at him in a glare. "over here pretty girl," kento teases noticing you turned your head in the wrong direction. you follow the sound of his voice and turn your head in the correct direction of his face, adorable pout still adorning your lips.

"don't pout baby, i promise you'll love it," he chuckles as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. your pout is replaced by a small smile that effectively melts kento's heart into a puddle of goo. you let him lead you to this mystery he's set up. the walk is silent as you take in the sounds of nature. the rustling of the grass as the light air rakes through it, the birds chirping along with the trickle of water in the distance.

you haven't felt this calm in months. college has been a thorn in your side for a while and now that you took all your finals, you're agonizing over your final grades, wanting nothing more than to pass. kento knows this. he's seen how hard you've worked. hours of studying, late nights, and those stressed tears that broke his heart with each stream down your cheeks.

he'd catch each escaped drop with the pads of his thumbs as you were nestled in his lap in a comforting hold. in his arms, you knew nothing would harm you, especially sunday 11:59 pm due dates. and when you submitted your last final exam yesterday, he knew he had to do something big for his special girl. his only girl.

"okay, stop," he utters and your feet come to a halt. you feel the sun kissing your skin as you stand next to kento waiting with nervous-excited butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "open your eyes, baby," he whispers. his candied voice filling your senses increasing the jittery feeling in your gut.

you open your eyes, pupils adjusting to the sunlight and what you see takes your breath away.

a picnic. a beautiful picnic assembled on a vast green field beside multiple tall apple trees. a white plaid picnic blanket is laid flat with various foods. gourmet sandwiches arranged scrumptiously on a sliver oval platter, a full charcuterie board that includes various deli meats, crackers, cheeses, and fruits, a bottle of wine alongside two long-stem wine glasses, and a circle-shaped frosted cake with 'you did it pretty girl!' written in red icing.

not to mention the big bouquet of flowers that lay next to the picnic basket. your favorite flowers at that.

"kento," you mutter softly in disbelief. he really knows how to take your breath away. warmth spreads through your cells, filling you with affection for your lover. no matter how many times he surprises you, no matter how many times he shows you how much he loves you, it never fails to make you tear up.

he pulls you smoothly into his embrace, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. you bury your face into the crook of his neck. "wha—when did—," "last week," cutting you off. "i know college has been putting you through so much hun, i jus' wanted to treat you for working so hard, my smart girl," he coos the last part softly then proceeds to pepper kisses all over your head. like he's kissing your overworked brain.

that feeling of love and safety spreads through your veins like molasses. you savor the feeling. "i don't deserve you ken," you mumble quietly hoping he doesn't hear the insecure tilt in your tone. oh, but he did. his hands trace the curve of your waist sliding up until they reach your cheeks. he cups them in his calloused palms, thumbs stroking the apples of them.

"nonsense sweetheart. not only do you deserve me, but you deserve the world. and i'm going to give it to you, from now until my last breath." loving but determined. nanami kento in a nutshell. and that makes any remnants of insecurity vacate your mind. to prove his point, kento leans in and presses his soft lips against your glossy plump ones in a tender kiss.

not one of lust, not one of eroticism, one of affection. a kiss that says 'you are my love, my heart, my soul, my everything.'

he pulls back, interlocks your fingers in his, and guides you to the picnic blanket. you move to sit down, but not before he places a pillow below you so you don't have to sit on the hard ground. a gentleman through and through. "c'mon hun, can't let this food go to waste, can we?" as he sits on a pillow next to you.

"not with our appetites," you chuckle as you grab a cracker off the charcuterie board and poke a toothpick into a slice of ham. kento laughs with you as he gazes at you fondly. he believes this is where he's meant to be. on a blanket, with you, eating and drinking as the horizon turns orange in front of you both.

and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

2024 © thebimbopalace — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @ thebimbopalace

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ways to say "I love you" - Lewis Hamilton

I'm back with more Lew ❤️

warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angsty

wordcount: +3k

important: each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. There's 10 more of those, but this was getting huge, so this is part 1.

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Life had been hectic, as it tended to be around the weeks before the final couple of races. You and Lewis had been on the road since mid October, not really going back to Europe since the US GP in Texas. The week off between São Paulo and Las Vegas the perfect opportunity to take a few days off in California with his friends. It was tiring, but you’d never complain of having a full passport as a down feature for your job.

The week of the Las Vegas GP was packed of events and promo for everyone, and to top it off a quick impromptu meeting with the board in the media day of the GP turned into a 5 hours long debate, that went well into the night.

You got back to your suite almost at midnight in serious need of a shower and some sleep. What you didn’t predict was Lewis already tucked into the bed, sound asleep.

You tiptoed around the room to try and find your things, not being lucky in the slightest you settled for a shirt Lewis had used in the road trip from LA to Vegas. The quick shower, only meant to decompress, had you engulfed in Lewis’ perfume, from both his shower products and shirt.

Lewis soft breathing guided you to the bed in the darkness of the room and when you got under the soft covers a pair of arms guided you to his chest, the one place sure to get you blacked out in minutes.

“They're in serious trouble for keeping you for so long” his horse voice an indication he had been in deep sleep already

“Sorry, took longer than we expected”

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself. Gonna have to lock you up at home during winter”

“No need, I’ll always find my way to you”. You mumbled into his neck, already nestling closer to him, ready to drift off.

A scream

“I love you” You screamed when you realized you’d never catch him, mid airport track, hoping the wind would somehow carry your words. His head turned abruptly, his face had confusion written all over his features, he was stuck in place, too stunned to comprehend the sudden confession you were hollering to the world but couldn’t say aloud to him just hours ago. You ran to him, security, people and restrictions be damned, that was your one chance.

“I love you, Lewis. I have loved you for longer than I care to admit, I have not stopped loving you even when I said I didn’t, even when hating you was all I wanted.” within arm’s reach you admitted breathlessly, doe eyes looking at you with such intensity you were sure he could see into your soul. His hands cautiously outstretching towards yours, waiting for you to take it, waiting for your mind to catch up to the feelings you had just admitted, waiting to see if you’d finally let your heart take over.

You didn’t take his hand though, going instead for the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin at the base of his hairline with your fingers, his overwhelming gaze waiting for your next move, for you to fully give in, looking from his eyes to his mouth until his scent and his touch were all that you felt. His hold on the lower of your back, the brush of his eyelashes on your cheeks and his taste on your lips were all you could ever want. The decision of a lifetime, one that after that day you would make every day, over and over.

On a random Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

The thing with Lewis was he was too much of an Capricorn for his own good, the earth in him urged for stability and trust, and in the familiarity and serenity of home he urged for security, not that he wanted a predictable life, but he wished that no matter what, he had someone he could fall back on.

“Move in with me” He blurred out of nowhere causing you to lightly laugh at him, scotching closer to his chest as if there was any space left between you, both laying comfortably tangled in each other in his house in London. Pillows and blankets around you on the floor, the late afternoon sunlight hitting the glass on the dining table and reflecting up at the ceiling, a movie on the tv neither were paying attention to.

“I mean it. I don’t see myself without you, I don’t want to anyway.” he almost whispered in your ears, the low volume to his voice amplifying the seriousness in his proposal. Turning your head to look at him you held your gaze into his for minutes, almost daring him to call off the offer, but he never did. His warm smile spreading onto his features when you crocked your head and smirked, specks of the late sunlight glowing where they hit your hair.

“I’d love to” you murmured, straddling him and pushing his chest so he’d lay back down on the blankets, hovering your face over his, leaving ghostly soft kisses on his lips, coming back up to look him in the eye, time and time again. Convincing yourself that it was okay to finally let your walls down for good.

“I love you; you know?!” a statement so surely presented to your, so pure. He didn’t wait to hear it back before pulling your to his chest and his lips, he didn’t have to.

When baking chocolate chip cookies

“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies!” You exclaimed as you entered his home gym in London mid-winter break, supplies in hand already anticipating half of the ingredients wouldn’t exist in his fridge.

“Excuse me?” He questioned as he set the weights down and reached for the towel to get the sweat dry from his forehead

“C’mom, vegan chocolate chip cookies” you rushedly told him already half way back inside, leaving a confused Lewis searching for any meaning to what had just happened.

As he approached his kitchen, he could hear the soft music playing in the speakers in the background while you danced around arranging the things you’d need.

“Care to explain, love?” He leaned at the stool just under the glistening spotlight and the couple of trays spread at the kitchen island.

“Your niece and nephew are coming over tomorrow” She retorted, almost a duh expression on her features as she chopped the vegan chocolate bar.

“Y/n, they know I’m preparing for the season” He lovingly replied, getting closer to you.

“Oh, they’re not exactly for you, Lew. I mean, they’re still vegan if you want to try them.” You turned into his embrace, leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips before wiggling back to where the many food items were.

“You show up at my house midafternoon, fully stacked, to bake vegan cookies for kids that aren’t coming until tomorrow and don’t really expect to eat anything but fruits ?!” He crocked his head, smirk fully on display as his eyes gleamed.

“That’s like half the reason I came. Apples and bananas are fine, but they are kids.” You shrugged as that was the most obvious thing.

“We’re really baking cookies then, I guess?!” He reached to you and grabbed the flour off of your hand, pouring it into a bowl.

“Chocolate chip cookies” You corrected him, laughing as he stole a few of the chopped chocolates still sitting on the chopping board 

 

Not said to me

You jolted up from your sleep when you heard a loud cry, frantically looking around the room you remembered you weren’t home when your eyes found the luggage in the corner, yours and Lewis’s belongings neatly tucked in the adjoining closet, a stark contrast to the baby clothes and toys scattered around the floor and armchairs. Slowly coming to your senses, you realized the crying was in your dreams when you heard a happy babble, followed by your husband’s low voice coming from the balcony of the hotel room.

“Sshh love, we don’t want to wake mamma up now do we? She’s taking a nap so we can go for a walk down the beach later.” The little girl instantly responding with a babble at the word she knew all too well.

Getting up you didn’t have the heart to interrupt the scene that played out when you peaked from the opened French doors of the room, deciding to quietly watch from the threshold as he kept blowing raspberries onto your daughter’s tummy, the chunky toddler in nothing but her diapers, in the hot afternoon summer breeze of Italy in July, excitedly clapping her hands for her dad while sitting on his legs.

“Oh, I miss her too baby, even when she’s just in the other room… I’ll tell you a secret though, even if momma tells the world we’re twins, every time I see your eyes, I see hers, the same one I’ve been in love with for a long time. Everyone says you are my hard carbon copy, but I love that I get to look into a piece of your mommy whenever I look at you".

When we lay together by the sun

The sun in your skin felt divine, a stark contrast to the wintery end of year you’d been having back in Europe, the heat and humidity in the air bringing to your senses the familiarity of northeast Brazilian weather in the hottest months of the year. His touch on your shoulder blades providing even more warmth, big hands massaging your whole back with sunscreen.

“By all means I’m the biggest fan of your back massages, but I put on sunscreen just a couple of hours ago” you giggled looking at him over your shoulders, sunglasses on the tip of your nose.

“Just making sure you’re protected, will you do mine?” He asked after tying the strings on the upper part of your bikini and giving your bum a checky light smack.

“Yeah… come here you Briton” grabbing him by the arms you sat up on the lounger and guided him to sit in between in your legs, his back already hot from the sun exposure.

“Thank you for coming here with me, I know we made it a 4 times header not going home to rest for a bit after Mexico.” You told him while spreading the white content of the Brazilian sunscreen you’d bought, throwing away the british one, not properly suited to sun in the tropics from your past experiences.

“Any time, love.” turning to face you he pulled you by the waist, his signature smirk and relaxed eyes scanning yours. “Especially when it includes this little paradise.”

“Have I told you I love you yet?” You questioned, the toothy grin he loved so much splattered on your face, his strong arms around you, the sounds of crashing waves in the background, white sand in your toes and his skin smelling just like your favorite childhood memories did.

“Not today, I don’t think so. Eu te amo” a questioning look as he tested his Portuguese around you, crushing his lips in yours while you giggled, raising you up to his body so he could hold you in his lap, his touch also how home felt to you. 

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

He felt the first little droplets of rain hit his skin as soon as she screamed “run”, laughing while holding her oversized hat to her head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her waist, effortlessly stopping them both and turning her body to him, her eyes holding the warmth that lately he could only find there, his face adorned with adoration, her dimples fully showing as her lips plastered the sweetest of grins.

“I love you” He couldn’t help himself, those 3 little words coming out as easily as breath, the thought of how hard it’d been to get them out in the first place long forgotten. She held his gaze as if trying to eternalize those memories, the afternoon summer rain falling hard around them whilst rays of sunlight hit the concrete, their clothes drenched, drops of water running down their tangled bodies.

“I love you; I love you; I love you” senseless babbles that professed his utmost emotion, holding her up to him and kissing in the pouring rain like they were teenagers in a cheesy movie.

A whisper in the ear

Being back to Europe always took you some time to get acclimated, and it didn’t help that that particular winter had been the coldest in years, so much colder than what your body was used to, so you wrapped yourself up in blankets waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, hopefully helping you to warm up.

His parents, siblings, niece and nephew were gathered for an impromptu 5 days getaway in the mountains, in the middle of wintery January, snow everywhere and days filled with winter sports, fireplaces and laughter from the people that had welcomed you as family. 

“Hey gorgeous, I thought you’d still be down there” he smirked his way to the open luggage on the little sofa by the bed, towel low on his hips and another in his hand for his face.

“Everyone went to bed, something about getting some sleep to beat you on the slopes tomorrow” You giggled the last part, knowing how competitive they could get. He chuckled and made his way towards you, getting under the blankets and bringing you over to his side, just his presence enough to soothe away the tight muscles from the cold.

“How come you’re always running so cold?” he whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and hips and bringing you to his chest. His skin radiating warmth and the smell of your body wash, since he’d forgotten to pack his. Fingers absentmindedly tracing random patterns on your thighs, your eyes lazily trying to focus on the news on the tv but failing miserably, the world could wait until the next morning.

“I love you” was the last thing you heard he whisper, his hoarse voice heavy with sleep, his arms scooching your body closer to his while making sure the blankets covered you both before he let his own sleep take over.

As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

Sundays after races would always be busy for the both of you. The rain was falling hard as you entered the small RV as quietly as you could, founding Lewis ingulfed in his own thoughts and feelings when you finally cleared through your duties, way past the time you wish had.

Taking in how his arms and back looked tense while he rested his head on both his hands sitting in the small sofa, you brought yourself to stand right in front of him, softly running your finger on his neck until he looked up offering a sad side smile and tugged you to his lap. You hadn’t spoken to each other since before he got in his car, well over 4 hours prior, but you didn’t have to.

He needed time to process what happened, he always did. Lewis could always come to interviews looking like he had it all together, always with the right words, but you knew, from the crease in his forehead and the way his shoulders dropped whenever he breathed a little deeper, that his calculating-looking actions and words were just knee-jerk reactions.

“I love you” you said into his neck, a consolation of sorts, huddling together, sitting on his lap with his head resting on your chest and his arms holding your waist tightly. At least in that small room, neither of you had to think about the storm brewing outside, not yet anyway.

Over the shoulder

The championship had, yet again, came down to the last race and the doom could be felt even from outsiders. The last time it happened Lewis wasn’t even a Ferrari driver, but everyone remembered.

You had tried to block the subject from your conversations with him, warned everyone he had enough of the comparisons, made sure he had all the space to breath, concentrate and shield all the noise from the outside. Yet, in the apparent serenity of the hotel bedroom, the quietness would scream back at him.

“What if it’s not meant to be?” He snapped you out of your thoughts as you finished some reports on your computer. His eyes a mix of something you couldn’t quite pint point, his walls up even for you.

“Then you’re still a 7 times world champion, a driver who’s won for McLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari, a trailblazer in the sport, entrepreneur over a variety of assets, founder of Mission 44, British knight, Brazilian honorary citizen, Anthony and Carmen’s son, Nicolas’ brother, my mom’s favorite son-in-law… oh and Roscoe’s dad, of course.” He smiled as you got to his family, scootching over to be by your side on the balcony sofa and laying his head on your lap.

“I would hate to be an almost champion… twice”   

“Yeah, we would all hate that too. And it’s okay to feel all kinds of way about possible results, but we’re not gonna known until we know, right?!”  You felt him humm in response, your fingertips going through his braids, trying to sooth the tensions away from him.

It wasn’t until the soft humming of a phone in the bedroom that you realized you had fallen asleep in the balcony, his body moving almost automatically to get him up while his features revealed how he too had dozed off.

“Will you still love an almost champion?” He prompted suddenly, almost like he had just remembered he had to know, eyes twinkling under the lights.

“Babe, I stayed even in the timbs phase, didn’t I?” You smirked back earning a full soundless chuckle, those that had him reach for his diaphragm and shake his head left to right.

“You’re lucky I love you; you really are.” You heard as he looked over his shoulders just as he got back inside.

[littlexdeaths]

fever pitch - r.b.

softball player robin buckley x cheerleader fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: all characters are 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, public sex, thigh riding, secret relationship, allusions to sex, bullying, mean!dom robin, little bit of mean reader, jealous reader

this is a collab with the absolutely brilliant @undead-supernova !! i literally had so much fucking fun writing this with you august, and it might be my favorite robin fic i’ve ever written. i feel like our brains collided and made a gay ass baby and i’m so proud of us. we hope you enjoy xx.

word count: 3.7K

“Shhh, don’t want us getting caught like this do you?”

Robin’s voice is hushed but stern, now lifting her head from between your trembling thighs. The blonde has you spread out on a bench in the dugout, skirt shoved up around your hips as her tongue laps up everything you have to offer.

That is until a broken moan leaves your lips, unable to stop it as her fingers curl up inside you. The sound breaks through the silence, the only thing heard above the soft hum of cicadas.

“What would your little friends think, hmm?” she taunts, brow raised as she looks up at you, dirt still smeared across her cheeks from the game. “Knowing a loser is the one making you feel so good?”

In that moment you can’t find it within yourself to care anymore, gripping her hair in your fist to guide her back between your legs. “Let them.”

Robin hums, her lips drifting lower to nip at the tender skin of your thighs. The action causes another loud whimper to leave you. “You sure about that, honey?”

“I don’t care,” you admit out loud for the first time, thoughts completely overwhelmed with all things Robin.

“Fuck, I don’t care anymore,” you sigh.

Never in your wildest dreams would you think tonight would turn out like this.

You’d been watching her from the sidelines as she attempted to slide into homebase, coming up a little short. You’d never gotten to see her play before, your extracurriculars usually running at the same time. But today had been just your luck, with Chrissy spraining her ankle, immediately being rushed off to get it iced. Coach ended practice shortly after—no use continuing without the star of the squad there, right?

It gave you the perfect opportunity to watch her without raising any suspicion—two of your teammates by your side, laughing as Robin struck out. You took your lower lip between your teeth, trying not to gawk as she rose to her feet. Dusting the dirt off her thighs when she caught your eye, biting back a smirk as she made her way towards the dugout.

But not before stopping by where you were leaning against the bleachers. Right there, in front of everyone for the first time.

See, this has been going on for months. The sneaking around, the feigned rivalry.

If only they knew what was really happening behind closed doors.

You first noticed her late one afternoon, walking to your car after cheer practice. Robin hadn’t even crossed your radar, barely a glance in the hallway. Too wrapped up in your own world to notice. But there was just something about the warm glow of the sunset laying against her flushed cheek. The way she found your eyes, like she knew your secret, before she spit out the shell of a sunflower seed. Chuckling as she grabbed her bat and walked off.

All you knew after that was you desperately wanted to know more. And boy, did you.

You quickly learned through word of mouth that she had been caught hooking up with some girl in the band room after school. That confirmation prompted you to start dropping her little hints. Longing glances when no one was paying attention, nods in the hallway. Sneaking out of practice early just so she’d notice you walk by. And, sure, she noticed.

But Robin wasn’t going to come easy, was she?

No, she wanted to make you work for it. To prove to her you were serious, not just another girl looking to make out with her for the thrill of it. Or some sick joke conjured up by the cheer squad to humiliate her more.

You quickly realized that your subtle hints were not going to get you what you wanted. Her.

One day you’d finally had enough, boldly slipping a note in her locker between classes. Coaxing her to meet you in the secluded alley between the gym and the cafeteria. A place you’d only used to meet a certain super senior when you wanted to buy some weed.

A spot unknown or used by the majority of the students of Hawkins High, knowing you wouldn’t be seen or heard by any curious passersby.

Part of you was worried she wouldn't show, becoming increasingly more nervous as time passed. Any lingering qualms were squashed when you saw her striding down the narrow path towards you. She looked good, her dark jeans hugging her hips just right. A button-up shirt tucked loosely into them, the top few buttons left open.

You wanted nothing more than to lean forward, closing the short distance between your bodies. Leave a trail of blues and purples along her exposed skin. And that terrified you, to know that one girl could mess you up in such a monumental way.

“So,” you mumbled, kicking a pebble with the tip of your sneaker.

“So,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Without hesitation, you introduced yourself but Robin gave you a confused look.

“Yeah, I already know who you are.”

“You do?”

“Well, we’ve gone to school together our whole lives…” she paused, running a hand through her hair, “and when a girl is practically eye-fucking you in the halls, it’s hard not to notice.”

“Oh, right,” you replied, looking down. Embarrassment washed over you. “Sorry, I guess I misinterpreted this whole thing.”

You carefully pushed off the wall, ready to walk away and pretend like this whole thing never happened. Save yourself the humiliation.

But her soft voice stopped you in your tracks.

“I wouldn't say that.”

“Then what would you say?” you asked, more confident now.

“You’re the one who asked me here,” Robin pointed out, turning the focus back to you.

And just as quickly as your confidence had risen, it fell. So you looked down again, now fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“I don’t, um,” you struggled. “I don’t really know how to say it. I just…I…”

“Oh, just spit it out already.”

You looked up at her exasperated expression, narrowing your eyes. “Fine! Fine. Whatever. I like you, okay?”

“Like me? We’ve never spoken.”

“Don’t give me that when I’ve seen the way you look at me too.”

Robin’s hardened expression fell. “Touché.”

Silence fell between you, Robin lifting her head to look at the sky. You couldn’t help but squirm again, feeling a desperate urge to breathe in her scent.

You sighed. “So, what do we do now?”

“Hell if I know,” she replied, looking back at you. “I thought you were stuck up like the rest of your prissy friends.”

“Not when I’m around you,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “You make me feel…different, somehow.”

“I could make it much worse for you, you know,” Robin replied, a smug grin reaching her lips as she stepped closer to you. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Please—”

“Actually, no,” Robin interrupted, fingers inching towards your hip. “You should beg.”

“Please,” you said without hesitation. “Please, Robin. I need you.”

Robin knew she shouldn’t. And so did you. But there was just something there, pressing against your chests as Robin pressed you against the brick. And when she kissed you the first time, you nearly whined in contentment, mewling softly against her mouth.

That kiss left you feeling desperate, eager for her to show you more. However, Robin wasn’t going to chase you, forcing you to take matters into your own hands. You sought her out one night after practice, pulling her into the equipment room outside the gym. Backing her body against the door, lips meeting once you heard the lock click into place.

“Just couldn’t stay away now, could you, baby?” she mumbled against your mouth, pulling a soft whine from you as she nipped at your lower lip. The noise caused her to laugh softly.

“I want you, Robs.”

She hummed in response, letting her lips trail across your jaw. “Want me how?” she prodded as the tip of her nose skimmed along your collarbone, rendering you utterly speechless.

“Show me,” she breathed, further stealing the breath from your lungs as she kissed you deeply. Taking control as she flipped your positions, enclosing you against the door.

You’re pliable under her soft touch, guiding her fingers up and underneath your pleated skirt. The blue of her irises nearly swallowed whole by her pupils as she gazed at you hungrily. That look ignited something within you, feeling emboldened as you reached forward to undo her pants. Exploring each other in a way that was unfamiliar to you, her skilled fingers helping to guide you with ease.

After that, it was just your little secret, with no one being the wiser. Why would they? You were on the opposite ends of the food chain, fractured by the Hawkins High hierarchy. Leaving little glances across the cafeteria, brushes of your fingertips in the hallway as a secret reminder of what you two had. It didn’t hurt that you could sit in class, practice, or even the shower and think about how they’d brush against your breasts later.

Of course, you couldn’t help but wind her up whenever you could be overheard. As she would gladly put you in your place in private.

But you knew as she approached you on the field with that familiar glint in her eye— you were really in for it this time.

“What’s so funny?” Robin asked, removing her gloves. You let your eyes linger on her fingers for a moment as she gripped the leather. Quickly shifting your gaze elsewhere as you pressed your thighs together.

Something the blonde didn’t miss. Holding back a smug smile as she looked between the three of you.

“You’re just such a loser,” Carol snickered, snapping her gum between her teeth.

Heather joined in with a giggle. “Yeah, maybe you should look into joining the t-ball team. Seems like a much better fit for you.”

Heather knew she struck a nerve, pleased with herself as Robin’s jaw clenched in anger.

“Oh, yeah?” Robin said, ready to egg her on. “And what do you know, Holloway? I’d like to see you do something other than shake your ass at Billy Hargrove during games. Don’t you find it pathetic how desperate you are for his attention?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Heather snapped back. “As if you are getting any. No one even knows your name.”

“You’d be surprised,” Robin replied, her eyes shifting towards you as if on instinct. “You know, I don’t recall ever seeing this one with a guy.”

“You better get back to that pitch before you strike out, Buckley,” you bit back, shooting her a warning look. “Again.”

With a shake of her head, Robin glanced behind you at your “friends” before scoffing and turning. But not before she took her cleat and scuffed up dirt onto your shiny white sneakers.

“Oops.” She laughed, giving you one last look before walking away.

Not missing a beat, Heather turned to you with a bewildered expression. “You know her name?”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s on her uniform.”

“Oh— right,” she murmured, the conversation quickly forgotten as they discussed their plans for the night: yet another kegger at the Harrington residence. It was something you definitely weren’t interested in attending.

Though they begged you to join them, you merely shrugged and told them to go without you. They didn’t even blink before heading off, their laughter fading as quickly as it started. But you soon found yourself lost in the chatter of the crowd and the roar of the umpire.

You decided to move up, leaning against the chain-link fence, pom-poms thrown to the dirt as you watched your girl stepping up to bat again. The score had been tied, this being Hawkins High’s last chance to win the game.

As always, Robin found you again. She gave you a wink before you heard the sharp crack of the bat. You gasped along with the crowd at the sight of the ball shooting through the sky and into the parking lot.

You couldn’t help the loud cheer erupting from your lips, clapping along with the crowd as she sprinted through each base with ease. And as she slid into home and was declared safe, her eyes met yours. They followed you as she picked herself up, sweat dripping as she removed her helmet. Shaking her dampened hair out with a wide grin.

There was no longer anything inside you that beckoned you to be malicious. You could feel a swell of pride inside you, wanting nothing more than to show her just how incredible she was. How much you cared about her…and you planned on it.

Her teammates were quick to surround her, lifting her up onto their shoulders as the crowd continued to cheer. Robin was clearly embarrassed by the sudden swarm of attention, her cheeks beautifully flushed as they carried her across the field. Soaking in the glory for a few more moments before they were called to line up, shaking hands with the opposing team.

But as everyone began to clear out, you noticed Beth Wildfire hanging back, laughing near the dugout with Robin. As you moved closer, you could make out the way Beth was checking out Robin’s ass as she bent over to grab her glove.

Robin lifted her head slightly, noticing you making your way over.

“Nice win, Buckley,” Beth said, popping in a piece of gum. “We should go out and celebrate.”

“Oh, yeah?” Robin asked, a devious smile on her lips as she rose. You couldn’t stop the jealousy beginning to surface. “You think we should invite the team?”

She was making you work for it, wasn’t she?

“Actually, I thought maybe you and I could—”

“Hey, Robin,” you said, directly in Beth’s line of sight now.

Beth gave you a look, clearly annoyed by your interruption.

Good.

“Hey,” Robin greeted. “What’s up?”

“You still need that ride?” you asked, clutching your pom poms tighter in your fists.

“I’d almost forgotten,” Robin replied smugly.

“Well, uh,” Beth said, taking a step closer to Robin. “I could always take her home after heading to Benny’s.”

“No, that’s alright,” you said curtly, faking a smile as you also took a step forward. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

You and Beth exchanged glances before her eyes widened, flickering between you and Robin who was only looking at you. Beth said nothing, opting instead to give you both a quick nod. But the clear disappointment on her face brought you more joy than you cared to admit.

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said. “Again, nice win, Buckley.”

Even as she walked away, Robin never broke eye contact. “Thanks, Beth,” she called out, a grin widening on her lips.

“Ready to go, mon chéri? I’m starving.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

And that’s how you ended up here, your legs draped over Robin’s shoulders as her tongue circles over your clit. One hand buried in her hair and the other clutching onto the chain link fence behind you. Her blue hues never leave your face, taking in each and every reaction she pulls from you.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.” She grins, flicking the tip of her tongue over your swollen clit. Enjoying the way your body twitches with every motion.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

You breathlessly try to deny it, but you both know you’re lying. Once again letting your pride get in the way, prompting Robin to remove her tongue from your center.

“No— Robbie, please,” you whine as she pulls away fully, resting her cheek against your inner thigh as she continues to slowly thrust her fingers inside you.

She revels in the way your walls grip tightly around the digits, almost as if you’re trying to keep them trapped inside. And as much as she loves feeling you, she loves making you beg even more.

So she slips her fingers out of your dripping cunt completely. Standing up to hover over you as she brings them to your lips.

“Please what, princess?” she taunts, her fingers now slipping into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly swirling around the digits until they’re devoid of any trace of you.

Robin removes them just as fast, trailing the saliva-coated digits down your jaw until they wrap around the base of your throat. “Answer me,” her harsh tone only further dampening the area between your thighs.

“Please don’t stop,” you plead without hesitation, rocking your hips up against her thigh. A look of desperation flitting across your features as you clutch onto her shoulders.

“Aww, you wanna cum, pretty thing?” Her tone is laced with condescension, finding yourself nodding almost frantically as you gaze up at her.

“I don’t know, baby… you were pretty mean earlier.” She paused, a small pout forming on your lips as she traced over them with her thumb. “You think you deserve it?”

You nod as if on instinct, whining as she pulls away from you completely. Rising to her feet once again, grabbing your hands and pulling you up off the bench. Your breasts press together as she whispers softly in your ear, “Prove it to me, then.”

You eagerly reach for the buttons on her uniform, tugging the zipper down. Impatiently yanking her pants down over the curve of her ass as you take back control.

“Sit,” you demand, resting your hands on her shoulders. Coaxing her to take your previous position on the worn bench.

“So bossy,” she teases, gripping your hips as you swing your leg over her thigh.

Taking a seat as you slip your fingers past the elastic of her underwear, moaning at the wetness you find there.

“This all for me?” you muse, your thumb brushing over her bundle of nerves with ease now. Having become quite familiar with every inch of her body over the last three months.

“I mean… Beth was looking good tonight—”

You cut her off with your mouth before she has a chance to finish her sentence. That surge of jealousy coursing through your veins as you kiss her deeply.

“She can’t have you,” you mumble against her mouth, before taking her lower lip between your teeth and tugging. “You're all mine.”

Robin curses softly as you begin to grind your hips against her thigh, slipping two fingers into her awaiting heat. Pumping them in tandem with each rock of your hips, as she mewls against your mouth.

“Please.” Now she's the one doing the begging, despite your hips continuing to grind down against her thigh. The mixture of her saliva and your juices making a mess on her bare skin.

You giggle softly as you increase the pressure on her clit with your thumb, burying your fingers deeper inside her. “Say it again.” She moans as you attach your lips to the base of her throat.

The blonde tilts her head back to expose more of her neck as you greedily suck on her flushed skin. A feeling of pride washes over you as you leave blotches of red and purple in your wake.

“You’re mine, Robin.” Your tone is overly possessive, enjoying how her body trembles beneath you. Your words being the thing to finally send her over the edge as she pulls your face back up to crash her lips against yours.

Her fingers dig harshly into the skin of your hips, encouraging you to keep grinding on her thigh. Lifting her leg to increase the pressure on your core. “That’s it… such a good girl.”

She pulls back slightly to watch you with hooded eyes, lips lifting in a genuine smile.

“My good girl.”

Her words elicit a bigger response than either of you expected, your thighs tightening around her own as you loudly cry out her name. Her hands continue to guide you along her thigh, working you through each wave of euphoria that crashes over you.

You’re both panting as you begin to come down from your highs, nuzzling your face in the crook of her neck. “Wow,” you breathe out, lightly tracing over the darkening love bites on her neck.

“Jeez, I think the whole town heard you,” Robin teases, running her fingers along your back.

“Well,” you start, pulling back to look at her. “I’m just trying to congratulate my girl on her big win.”

“Your girl?” she teases.

You bite your lip, trying to hide your smile. “Mhm.”

“Admit it,” Robin says, lifting her eyebrows, eyes tracing the lines of your face. “You were jealous.”

“Maybe I was,” you finally admit, earning an amused smile from her. “But I don’t think I have to worry about anyone else.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm.”

You press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth before standing, helping her to her feet. Leaning back against the fence as she wiggles her pants back up over her hips.

Robin is still fastening the buttons as you walk out onto the field. Her eyes follow your figure as you reach the pitcher's mound. A fond look falls over her features as your eyes flutter shut, letting the last glow of the setting sun soak into your pores.

Feeling the weight of her stare, you turn back around. Flashing her a beaming smile as she finally reaches you on the field.

“So… Benny’s?” you ask, twisting your skirt back into place. “I’m actually starving now.”

Robin looks at you in utter disbelief as she places her hat back on her head, the brim facing the opposite direction. “Wait, you’re serious? What if someone sees us together?”

You can’t stop the giggle that leaves you, now closing the few feet separating you from her. Cupping her face in between your palms as you press another kiss to her lips.

Right in the middle of the open field.

“I told you,” you say, louder this time. “Let them see us. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

You slip your hand into hers, lacing your fingers as you begin leading her towards your car. A sight to see, her bat and glove in her unoccupied hand. Your pom-poms in yours.

“You were still an asshole earlier, you know that?” Robin says.

As you share a laugh, you swing your intertwined hands back-and-forth. You’re practically skipping as you pull her along, light-hearted and winded.

“And you ruined my sneakers,” you counter. “Are you gonna clean them for me?”

“Only if you’re good, mon chéri.”

“I think I can manage that,” you reply as you venture further into the twilight. “At least for a little bit.”

tagging some moots 💕

@xxbimbobunnyxx @babygorewhore @impmunson @voyeurmunson @eddiesxangel @taintedcigs @strangerstilinski

[dixons-sunshine]

Hazelnut | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl didn't know exactly what he expected when his group settled into Alexandria—maybe some snobby, incompetent inhabitants who couldn't stand their ground if something were to happen or people who would turn on him and his group at any given moment, but definitely not a little girl who basically attached herself to his hip. And he definitely didn't expect to find himself drawn to the mother of that little girl.

Genre: Fluff, angst but not a lot.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour war. (Timeline is kinda wonky. Saviours kinda don't exist in this? I don't really know.)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, child abandonment, mental abuse, mentions of drugs and alcohol, single parenthood, sexual content but not smut.

Word count: 8k

A/n: This was such a cute idea that @louifaith had! I tried my best, but it honestly sucks. I'm not really happy with how this turned out, but I hope you like it! Also, definitely go check out @celtic-crossbow 's version! Pure perfection, honestly.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, and now for Scud Frohmeyer as well!

—

“You have to lighten up, Daryl. How do you expect to make any friends with that 'leave me alone' attitude of yours?”

Daryl grumbled to himself as he continued tinkering with his crossbow. The hot late afternoon sun was relentlessly beating down on the community as its inhabitants continued about their tasks. Daryl had been observing silently everyone from the porch steps he was sitting on, enjoying the moment of solitude he had, but Carol had other ideas.

“Daryl,” Carol started, crossing her arms as she descended down the steps. She turned around to face Daryl, her voice stern. “It would do you good to socialise a bit.”

“I talked to Tobin when we finished up with the construction of the new walls yesterday,” Daryl replied nonchalantly, keeping his eyes focused on his crossbow instead of the stern woman in front of him.

“That doesn't count. That's work talk. I'm talking about actual socialising. Like, striking up a conversation with someone that isn't in our group or someone you have to talk to for work.”

“I dun' need to. Y'all are the only company I need. Ain't gon' waste my time tryin' to make buddies with people who dun' even like me,” Daryl responded with a sense of finality, gripping his crossbow and getting up. “Now get off my back, woman.”

“Where are you going?” Carol called after him, watching the archer walk away from the house.

“Somewhere,” he replied shortly, ending the conversation effectively.

Slightly irritated, Daryl walked with no particular destination in mind. He passed by some people who sent him friendly greetings and small waves, which he returned half-heartedly. After a while of mindlessly walking about, Daryl stopped in front of a makeshift park of sorts. It was a small area surrounded by grass and had a big tree towards the edge. He moved to sit on the grass underneath the shade of the tree. The few kids in the community loved to play in this area, but it was deserted for now; the perfect place for the archer to relax for a while.

Daryl went about sharpening his knife for a while. The mediocre task kept his mind busy, busy enough to ignore the parents and kids who arrived, busy enough to ignore the wary stares the parents threw his way. Daryl simply shook his head—even after two months, there were still people who were wary of him and the rest of his group. Even after everything they did and sacrificed to ensure the community's safety.

“Mistah lonely?”

Startled, Daryl's head shot up and his eyes locked with those of a little girl who looked no older than three years old. The girl looked at him with curiosity written all over her young face, eyeing the knife in the archer's hands with wonder. She tentatively reached forward to touch the knife, her fingertips close to making contact with the cold metal of the knife.

Daryl jerked the knife away and out of reach of the young girl. “Dun' touch tha',” he barked coldly, standing up to keep the knife out of the young girl's reach.

“Sharp mife?” the girl questioned, moving closer towards the archer. She reached up to grab his arm, trying to reach the knife.

Daryl frowned at the girl. He gently pried his arm away from the girl's grasp and took a step back, unnerved by the soft touch of the child's hands. That didn't seem to deter the girl, however.

“Mistah use sharp mife?”

“Scram, kid. Go back to yer mama.”

“Mama?” the girl asked, her eyes lighting up at the mere mention of her mother. “Mama! Get Mama!”

“Wha'? No, tha' ain't—” Daryl started, but was abruptly cut off when the girl took off and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. Daryl raised his eyebrows as he watched the girl's retreating figure, confused by the interaction he just had.

Well, he thought, at least that's the end of that. However, as Daryl gathered his crossbow and sheathed his knife, he inwardly groaned at the sound of the little girl's voice calling out to him.

“Mistah! Mama here!”

Daryl turned and looked at two approaching figures. The young girl was holding a woman's hand, leading the woman over to him. The woman was laughing lightly, allowing herself to be pulled by the little girl.

“Come, Mama!” the little girl giggled, excitedly tugging your hand harder.

“Okay, okay! No need to rip my hand off,” you laughed, soon coming to a stop in front of Daryl.

Daryl looked at you with a frown, scowling slightly. His eyes darted between the excited little girl and you, slightly taken aback by the friendliness you radiated. Despite everything he's done for the community up until that point, only a few select Alexandrians—mainly Aaron and Eric—didn't show him any contempt or wariness. Yet there you were, smiling up at him and looking as pretty as a picture.

“Mama,” the little girl excitedly told him, pointing up to you. She smiled at you, dimples forming on her chubby cheeks.

“I'm Y/n. You must be Daryl?” You introduced yourself, extending your hand for a handshake.

Daryl looked at your hand, not moving to take it. However, just as you were about to lower your hand awkwardly at his dismissal, the little girl stepped forward.

“Like this, mistah,” she instructed, taking the archer's hand and putting it in yours.

Daryl flinched at the contact and quickly withdrew his hand, looking at the little girl with a small frown. He looked back at you, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

This was the worst random social situation he's ever been in.

“Sorry,” you apologized, giving him a sheepish smile before turning back to your daughter. “Hazel, we don't touch people unless they say we can, alright?”

“Sorry, Mama,” Hazel apologized half-heartedly, not fully understanding what you were saying. She turned back to look at Daryl. “Sorry, Dar.”

“Daryl,” the archer corrected her, talking for the first time since you had approached him.

Hazel looked up at him in confusion. “Dar,” she repeated herself, a look of concentration on her face.

“No, 's—nevermind. Forget it,” Daryl grumbled, shifting his weight from his one leg to the other. He looked back to you again and noticed how awkward you looked, your lips pursed as you avoided his eyes.

“Sorry. She has trouble with the pronounciation of some words and names. I'm working on helping her with that,” you explained.

Daryl noticed the defensive tone in your voice and raised his eyebrows questioningly, yet he refrained from questioning why. “S'alrigh',” he mumbled, awkwardly fiddling with his crossbow that was slung over his shoulder.

“Okay,” you said, gathering Hazel up into your arms. “Well, it was nice meeting you, but I have to get going. I have to get this gremlin ready for dinner. Sorry for bothering you.”

With that, you turned around and retreated back towards the houses, Hazel happily babbling in your arms. Daryl watched your retreating figure with a sense of uneasiness. In that short interaction, he found himself unexplainably drawn to you. He didn't know you, but some part of him wanted to get to know you.

However, as quickly as that thought entered his mind, he just as quickly disregarded it. He didn't need to get attached to any more people, especially people who couldn't protect themselves in this harsh world they lived in. In the end, everyone he cared about died or left, so it was better to spare himself the inevitable pain and keep you and your daughter at an arm's length.

Something told him that it would be easier said than done, however.

—

The next morning, Daryl found himself working alongside Aaron. The two of them were busy carrying large pieces of metal to the wall they were busy fortifying, Aaron making casual small talk while Daryl simply hummed in acknowledgement. Once the last piece of metal was added to the already existing pile, the two men wiped the sweat from their foreheads and took a drink of water, before walking over to Aaron's house. Aaron took a seat on the porch steps while Daryl remained standing on the grass.

“So yeah, that's how I met Eric,” Aaron told him, concluding his story.

“Story straight out a damn romance novel,” Daryl replied sarcastically, eliciting a laugh from Aaron.

“Yeah, yeah. Make fun of it all you want. Everyone always does.”

“Nah, 's a good story. Pretty cliche with the whole spillin' yer coffee on his shirt bit, but 's still a good story,” Daryl assured him. “Now c'mon, didn't ya say somethin' 'bout havin' a part fer my bike?”

“Dar!”

As if materializing out of thin air, Hazel excitedly bounded down the porch steps and threw herself against Daryl, clinging to his leg in a hug. Caught off guard, Daryl stumbled a bit but regained his footing, his eyes darting down to look at Hazel. His eyebrows raised in surprise before he gently pried the girl from his legs, not used to any kid other than Judith clinging to him like that.

“Kid, what are ya doin'?” he questioned, taking a step back from her, but it was to no avail. Hazel simply smiled up at him before throwing herself at him again, clinging to his leg like a monkey.

Aaron chuckled. “I see you've met Hazel. She's quite the character, huh?”

“Wha's she even doin' here?”

“Eric asked to babysit her. He loves having her over, and her mom said yes.”

Hazel giggled against Daryl's leg, turning her head to look at Aaron. “Hi, Rin!”

“Hey, Hazel,” Aaron chuckled fondly, sending the girl a small wave.

“Rin?” Daryl questioned, placing one of his big hands on the little girl's head, accepting his fate of being clung to for now.

“She can't say my name properly,” Aaron explained. “She has trouble with pronouncing some things.”

“Yeah, her mama said somethin' 'bout tha',” Daryl said without really thinking about it.

“So you've met her?” Aaron asked, leaning forward with slight interest. He had a small smirk on his face, one that Daryl couldn't understand.

“Briefly. Hazel practically dragged her over to meet me yesterday,” Daryl replied, looking down at Hazel when he felt her grip loosen on his leg.

Hazel looked up at him and raised her arms, looking at him expectantly. “Upsies,” she said, jumping slightly on her toes. “Dar, upsies!”

To his utter surprise, Daryl found himself leaning down to pick her up. The act hadn't even registered in his brain until the small girl was already in his arms, her small, chubby hands gripping at his shirt as she giggled. The small sound of her laughter made the archer's heart fill with an unexpected fondness, taking him by surprise. It was the same type of fondness that filled his heart whenever he coaxed a laugh from Judith, and yet it was completely different at the same time. He couldn't explain it.

“She seems to like you, Daryl,” Aaron laughed, standing up from his position on the porch steps. “Not a lot of people can say that about her.”

“Wha' do ya mean?” Daryl found himself asking, confused entirely by the man's revelation. From the limited interactions that the archer has had with the young girl up until that point, he naturally assumed that Hazel was this way with everyone. What would make him special enough to the little girl, who just met him, to make her treat him differently than she would others?

Aaron motioned for Daryl to follow him into the house, and he obliged, silently entering the pristine house while still carrying Hazel in his arms. The girl took a great interest in his hair, playing with it to entertain herself.

“From what Y/n told us, she was with a group before she got here who treated her and Hazel badly, and Hazel hasn't fully regained her trust in adults yet,” Aaron explained.

Daryl frowned. “Badly, how?”

“She wouldn't say, but it took forever for Eric and I to gain Hazel's trust. We even tried to bribe her with candy but she wouldn't budge. But she seems to trust you and you say you only met her yesterday?”

“Yeah. She approached me at tha' makeshift park the kids play at,” Daryl nodded, rubbing a hand over Hazel's small back unconsciously, shifting her in his arms slightly.

“Then you're definitely special, buddy. This kid doesn't trust easily,” Aaron declared, sitting down on a chair in the dining room.

Daryl followed his lead, sitting across from him on a chair while still holding the small girl firmly in his arms. Hazel's attention shifted from his hair to the loose threads on his sleeveless shirt, playing with them to keep herself busy.

“They were with a group 'fore this? How long have they been here?” Daryl questioned, interested in knowing more about you.

“Yeah. Hazel and her mom haven't been here all that long. I actually found them a couple of days, maybe a week, before I found you all. From what I know, Y/n and Hazel had been on their own for a while before I found them. Y/n almost killed me the first time we met. She thought I was gonna hurt them. It took me and Eric a while to convince her to come back with us, but even then she refused to let her guard down. She was kind of like Rick when we first met, except she didn't tie me up or force me to eat apple sauce.”

Daryl hummed, hissing slightly when he felt Hazel tug at his hair rather harshly. He brought one of his hands up to pry her hand away from his hair, subconsciously rubbing his thumb over her small fist.

“Tha' hurts,” he said softly, surprising himself by the gentleness of his voice.

“Sorry, Dar,” Hazel apologized half-heartedly. She yawned before laying her head on his shoulder. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, nuzzling her head into his neck.

Daryl felt his heart swell with fondness for the second time that day. He gently rubbed her back. From his experience with Judith, that small action could lull a small child into slumber, and he hoped that proved to be right with Hazel.

“You're good at that,” Aaron commented, a smile on his face as he watched that small interaction between the big, 'scary' man and a small, innocent child.

Daryl looked at him, confused by the look the man was sending him. “Good at wha'?” he asked.

“That,” Aaron repeated himself, motioning to Hazel. “Were you a dad before all of this?”

Daryl stiffened at the question. “Nah,” he shook his head, adjusting Hazel in his arms again. “Not the type of guy who could've started a family back then.”

“And now?” Aaron asked, unaware of Daryl's inner turmoil.

Daryl inhaled sharply. “To start a family ya need a partner,” Daryl started, slightly rocking the small girl in his arms. “I ain't got a partner, and there ain't exactly women linin' up to be with me. So kids ain't somethin' I see in my future.”

“It could still happen, you know? You might meet someone. Hell, you know what? I know you'll meet someone.”

“A lot of confidence fer somethin' tha' might never happen,” Daryl grumbled.

“Never say never, Daryl,” Aaron replied, giving the man a small smirk. “Never say never.”

—

“Mama! Mama!” Hazel called through the house, excitement clear in her voice.

You smiled at the sound of your daughter's voice, glad to be able to see her again after a whole day of being alone at your small house. The sun was setting, the stars starting to twinkle in the sky and you were almost done with dinner. Eric had told you that he would bring Hazel back before sunset and you were starting to get worried, but thankfully she was okay.

You walked into the living room and hunched down to pick up the small girl that ran into your arms, hugging her tightly to you as you placed kisses all over her face. She giggled at the sensation and pulled back, grabbing your hand and excitedly pointing towards the door.

“Mama, Dar here,” she said, smiling widely before turning towards the door.

You followed her line of sight and locked eyes with the archer. You stood up and gave him an awkward smile, painfully aware of the awkward encounter you had with the man the day before. Daryl seemed to mirror your unease—he nervously shifted his weight from one leg to the other, ducking his head to avoid your gaze.

“I see that, sweetheart,” you replied, keeping your eyes locked on the man before you.

“I played with Rin and Eric. Dar played too!” Hazel happily exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement as she looked up at Daryl in awe.

“Did he, now?” you asked rhetorically, marvelling at the sudden and unexpected change of character for the quiet man. Just the day before he'd shrugged Hazel off and seemed to want nothing to do with her, yet now your daughter was claiming that the huntsman had spent time with her that day. It didn't make sense.

“Yeah! So fun!” Hazel laughed happily, waddling over to Daryl to seemingly hug his leg again.

Daryl, who had been hugged multiple times that day by the toddler, instinctively crouched down to have her hug his side instead of his leg. Hazel wrapped her small arms around him and nuzzled her head into his neck, and Daryl couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face. One day had been more than enough for him to grow fond of the small girl, and he cursed himself for letting his guard down enough for that to happen, but the damage was already done; that little girl had already wormed her way into his heart.

“I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smiled at her, watching the interaction between the archer and your baby girl. “Baby, why don't you go get changed into your blue PJ's, huh? You're a big girl now, right? Think you can get changed without mama's help?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed happily, pulling away from the hug and giving Daryl a smile, dimples on display. “Bye, Dar!”

“Bye, Hazel,” Daryl greeted her quietly, watching the girl waddle to the stairs and begin to climb them carefully. He then hesitantly shifted his attention to you, but instead of seeing that wariness he'd grown accustomed to other parents giving him, one that he expected you to give him after his encounter with you the day before, there was a look of curiosity and wonder in your eyes.

“Thanks for bringing her home,” you thanked him, offering the archer a small smile.

Daryl ducked his head. “Ain't nothin',” he replied, shaking his head.

“So, you spent the day with her?” you started, looking at him questioningly. “By the way you looked uncomfortable around her yesterday, I would've thought you'd avoid her at all costs.”

“I was spendin' the day helpin' Aaron. He invited me to his place 'cause he had a part I needed fer my bike and Hazel was there. She wouldn't let go of me after she saw me,” Daryl explained, fiddling with his hands.

“So she basically forced you into spending time with her?” you asked with a small laugh, your eyes crinkling in amusement.

“Pretty much,” Daryl joked, his lips involuntarily twitching into a small smile.

You laughed lightly and Daryl chuckled softly, admiring the way your eyes seemingly sparkled. The dim light of the living room gave you a golden glow, and Daryl found himself admiring your beauty. The unnerving thought struck him at full force and he tried to shake that thought from his mind—he couldn't let his mind go there. He wouldn't let his mind go there. He had to keep you at an arm's length. It was bad enough that Hazel broke through his barrier in a day, so he couldn't allow her mom to do the same, too. More attachments wasn't something the archer needed.

“Well, Hazel seems happy. I think you just became her best friend, whether you like it or not,” you told him playfully.

“I have a feeling tha' I ain't got much say in the matter.

“Nope,” you laughed. “But thank you. She hasn't looked that happy in a long time.”

“Glad I could help,” Daryl replied, a small smile on his face. “Sorry fer bein' a dick yesterday.”

“It's fine. We shouldn't have bothered you.”

“Ya weren't botherin' me. I jus'... Wasn't in a good mood, 's all. 'M sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” You gave him a sweet smile before turning around. “Wait here. I'll be right back.”

Daryl frowned in confusion but didn't say anything. A few minutes passed until you reentered the living room, a lunchbox in your hand. You promptly handed it to him, and Daryl could feel the heat radiating off the bottom.

“Wha's this?” he asked, giving you a questioning look.

“Stew. I made more than Hazel and I can finish, so I figured I'd give you some. And before you say anything, just take it. Consider it a thank you gift.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, resisting the urge to deny your 'gift'. “Thanks.”

“No problem at all,” you reassured him, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart flutter uncontrollably.

Daryl ducked his head, willing the blush on his face to go away. “I should get goin',” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“I'll walk you out,” you replied, walking with him over to the door.

Daryl stepped out of your home and turned to you. He gave you a nod and turned to walk away, but stopped when he heard you speak up.

“I hope you realise that she isn't gonna let you off the hook. You're going to be stuck with her now. And my daughter and I are a package deal, so you're going to be stuck with me, too.”

For some unknown reason, Daryl didn't mind that thought at all.

—

“Easy, Hazelnut. Ya dun' wanna hurt yerself, do ya?”

The toddler giggled, her small hands toying with the arrow in her hands. “Sorry, Dar.”

Daryl smiled at the small girl, bringing one of his hands up to ruffle her hair, successfully coaxing another laugh from her. “I know ya are. Jus' try to be more careful, alrigh'? I dun' want ya gettin' hurt.”

“No boo-boos. Boo-boos hurt,” Hazel replied, gingerly handing the arrow back to the archer.

“They do,” Daryl agreed, taking the arrow from the girl. “Tha's why ya gotta be careful, alrigh'? Dun' want anythin' to happen to someone as sweet as ya, Hazelnut.”

Hazel giggled and nodded. “No boo-boos.”

“No boo-boos,” Daryl repeated, smiling fondly at the young girl.

Two months had passed since Daryl initially met you and Hazel. In those two months, Daryl had found himself becoming intertwined with your lives, a constant presence for you and your daughter.

The archer hadn't asked you what had happened to Hazel's father yet, and he wondered when he could be permitted to ask that. However, Daryl knew that there could only be two plausible explanations; either he was dead, or he willingly left. The huntsman really hoped it wasn't the latter. No person should be left to raise a kid on their own.

However, as Daryl's love for the young girl grew, so did his feelings for you. It got to the point where he had started wishing that he was Hazel's dad, that he could've been there during your pregnancy and watched your belly grow. He would've worshipped your body and been there for you every step of the way. However, as much as he wanted that, that was a dream that couldn't be a reality, so he settled on being Hazel's best friend.

“The two of you look like you're having fun. Mind if I join?”

Daryl's head snapped up at the sound of your voice. His eyes met yours and his heart skipped a beat, that sweet smile of yours making butterflies swarm around in his stomach.

“Mama!” Hazel exclaimed happily, hurrying down the porch steps to fling herself into your arms.

You laughed, picking her up and placing a kiss on her forehead. You looked at Daryl and sent him a smile. “Hey, Daryl.”

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, fiddling with the arrow in his hands.

“Mama, play with us!” Hazel giggled, wiggling in your arms to be put down.

You lowered her to the ground, watching her climb up the porch steps and clamber into Daryl's lap. Daryl lowered the arrow and wrapped his arms around her, placing a small kiss to the side of her head. You smiled at the interaction, your heart speeding up against your will.

“I can't, baby. It's time to go home. It's dinner time,” you told her.

Hazel frowned and nuzzled her head into Daryl's neck, a whimper building up in her throat. Instinctively, Daryl started rocking her back and forth, rubbing her small back and shushing her quietly.

“S'alrigh', dun' cry. Ya will see me again tomorrow, alrigh'?” he whispered into her ear, his heart breaking at the sound of her sniffles. When he felt her nod, he placed one final kiss to the side of her head before placing her back down. “Why dun' ya go say bye to Jude?”

Hazel looked at you expectantly, and you nodded. “Go ahead, baby. I'll wait for you.”

Hazel ran into the house, leaving you and Daryl alone on the porch. The archer stood up and walked down to meet you on the grass, pushing his hands into his pockets as he looked at you through his hair.

As you looked at him, it took all of your willpower to resist the urge to brush his hair out of his face and cup his cheek. Not trusting your own hands, you crossed your arms and looked up at the huntsman, giving him a small smile.

“This is the first time ya have come to pick her up. I usually bring her home. 'S somethin' wrong?” Daryl asked, searching your eyes for an answer.

You shook your head. “No, nothing's wrong. I just figured that I could come pick her up for a change. Spare you the walk back to my place.”

“It ain't that far,” Daryl pointed out, motioning down the street. “Jus' a couple of houses down.”

“Yeah, I know, but...” you trailed off, unsure if you should lay your problems onto him.

“But wha'?” he questioned, suddenly on edge. Had you changed your mind about him? About him being around you and your daughter? He really hoped not.

You hesitated for a moment. “It's nothing. Just some mom's around the community who like to be judgy.”

“Wha' are they sayin'?”

“That I'm a bad mom for not taking the time out of my day to pick up my own daughter. That I'm smearing my responsibilities onto other people. Just thought I'd start proving them wrong.”

“Hey, yer not a bad mom. I like bringin' Hazel home at the end of the day. Tha' way I know she's safe.” He also liked it because it meant he got to see you being all domestic, hugging your daughter tightly and sending him beautiful smiles, inviting him to stay for dinner each time. He always declined, not wanting to be a burden, but your offer never waned.

You smiled at him, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. Daryl instantly noticed it and placed one of his hands on your shoulder, taking you by surprise. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and your skin flushed where he touched you.

“Dun' let them convince ya yer a bad mom. I ain't ever seen a better mom than ya. How many mom's here can say tha' they kept their kid alive out there in the real world? Tha' despite everythin', their kid came first and tha' they would kill fer them?”

“How did you know I wasn't here from the start?”

“Aaron told me he found ya and Hazel on yer own not too long before he found us. The fact tha' ya kept her alive on yer own for tha' long proves to me tha' yer the best fuckin' mom under the sun.”

You smiled at him and placed your hand over his that was still resting on your shoulder. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“No problem,” he replied, holding eye contact with you. His hand lingered on your shoulder for longer than necessary, and he gazed deep into your eyes.

Your heart sped up and stopped beating at the same time, noticing a shift in the archer's emotions. However, before either of you could do anything else, Daryl snapped out of it and withdrew his hand, taking a step back.

You cleared your throat and ducked your head, your face heating up. Luckily, Hazel ran out at that moment and bounded down the stairs, throwing herself into Daryl's side and clinging to his leg.

“Bye, Dar!”

Daryl pressed Hazel tightly to him. “Bye, Hazelnut.”

Hazel unwound her arms from around him and moved over to you, extending her arms to be picked up. You did just that, holding her tightly to you. You turned to Daryl and offered him a small smile.

“You know, my offer still stands. You could join us for dinner.”

Daryl was about to decline your offer again, but Hazel cut him off.

“Yes! Please, Dar!”

In that moment, Daryl found that he wouldn't be able to say no. He gave you both a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

You smiled broadly. “Great! Come on, then.”

“Dun' I need to change?”

“No, you're fine, don't worry. You can come as is.”

“Alrigh',” Daryl nodded. “Let's go.”

—

“Could you maybe get Hazel settled into her highchair? I'll be right out with the food.”

Daryl nodded and watched you retreat from the dining room into the kitchen before turning around. “Hazelnut!” he called, hearing the toddler's footsteps come into the dining room.

Hazel stared up at the archer with a huge smile, her arms extended to be picked up. Daryl smiled softly at the girl and leaned down to pick her up, placing her in her highchair. Once he was sure she was settled and wouldn't fall off, he got settled in the chair next to her, listening to Hazel's happy babbling.

Soon enough, you reentered the dining room with a pot of spaghetti and meatballs. The aroma of the meal made Daryl's mouth practically water. The last time he'd eaten spaghetti was when Aaron had invited him, and that was a good couple of months ago.

“It smells fuckin' good,” Daryl said without thinking, and instantly regretted his choice of words.

“Fuck,” Hazel repeated happily, completely oblivious to the horrified look that spread over Daryl's face, and the amused one that spread over yours.

“Nah, Hazelnut, dun' say tha'. Dun' ever say tha',” he told her hurriedly, his heart beating faster at his mistake.

“Fuck,” Hazel giggled.

“No, I jus' said—” Daryl started, shooting you a worried look. However, he calmed down when he saw your amused smile. “Wha's so funny?”

“You,” you told him, laughing lightly while serving everyone some food. “Don't look so worried. I'm not gonna bite your head off because of one slip up. If I had a penny for every time I accidentally slipped up since she was born, I would've been able to buy a yacht in the old world. You're good, don't worry.

“Okay, but we can't have her goin' around sayin' tha', though,” Daryl said, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“You're right about that,” you started, turning to look at Hazel. “Baby, you can't say fuck, okay? That word belongs to Daryl. Until he's ready to share that word, you can't say that, alright?”

“Okay, Mama,” Hazel replied, starting to eat her food rather messily.

Daryl chuckled softly at the girl before turning to his own food. He started eating as well, the flavours of the delicious meal melting on his tongue. He wanted to gulp it all down but he resisted the urge, instead eating with a decency he never knew he had.

The meal was mostly spent in silence, save for Hazel's happy babbling and the occasional input from you or Daryl. Daryl did, however, sneak glances at you when you weren't looking, admiring your beauty and the soft, loving way you acknowledged your daughter and the tenderness you used when you wiped her face clean of the sauce.

Unbeknownst to the archer, you had also been sneaking glances at him. Admiring his gentleness with your daughter, the way his eyes softened and the quiet chuckles he would let out whenever Hazel did something amusing, or the small smiles he gave you. It was amazing how important Daryl had become to you and Hazel in a span of a few months. The big, gruff, quiet man with a heart of gold, who had invaded your thoughts and your heart.

The meal was soon done and Hazel's eyes were beginning to droop. You noticed it and got up to take her out of her highchair. She instantly layed her head down onto your shoulder and closed her eyes, and you placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

“You tired, baby?” you cooed, rubbing her back gently. When she simply responded by nuzzling her face deeper into your shoulder, you laughed fondly and turned to Daryl, sending him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I should probably get this little rascal to bed. You can stay here, I'll be right back.”

However, as soon as you said that, Hazel interjected. “Dar tuck me in with Mama?” she asked innocently, lifting her head up to look at Daryl.

Daryl looked surprised. He locked eyes with you, his heart fluttering at the smile you sent him.

“If Daryl's okay with it,” you whispered.

“Yeah, 'course,” Daryl replied, nodding his head.

You motioned for him to follow you upstairs and he obliged. Together the two of you descended up the stairs and into Hazel's bedroom. Daryl stopped in the doorway, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, but you had other ideas. You gently took his hand and led him into the room, only letting go of it to tuck your daughter into bed. Daryl subconsciously placed his hand on your shoulder instead, watching place your little girl into bed.

Hazel was already half asleep when you put her into her bed. She instantly curled up into her pillow and let out a big sigh, her eyes opening only slightly. In her view, she saw you, her mom, the woman who always protected her when the two of you were living on the road outside the walls, and always loved her despite her shenanigans. And Daryl, the man who at first had been kind of mean, now always there for both her and her mom. The man who started to feel like a daddy to her.

“Night, Mama. Night, Daddy,” Hazel mumbled, her eyes closing and she drifted into slumber. In seconds, she was out cold.

Time froze for a moment. Daryl's eyes widened and his heart practically pounded out of his chest. There was no way that he had heard it right. There was no way that Hazel had just called him dad. There was no way that Hazel trusted and loved him enough in those few months to see him as her father. She couldn't, could she?

He turned to look at you and noticed the unreadable expression on your face. You didn't address what she had just said, however, and Daryl was too nervous to bring it up himself.

“We should probably let her sleep,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed and followed you out the door.

Together, the two of you descended down the stairs and back into the dining room. You turned to look at Daryl and motioned towards the living room.

“You can wait in the living room. I just wanna put the dishes in the sink and then I'll join you.”

“Nah, let me help,” Daryl protested, moving over to grab all the dishes.

Before you could protest, Daryl walked into the kitchen. You quickly followed behind him and watched him put the dishes in the sink, but before he could start washing them, you quickly stopped him.

“No, it's okay. I'll wash them tomorrow,” you assured him. “Do you want some wine?”

Daryl nodded and hummed, silently observing as you grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, as well as a bottle of wine. You placed the glasses on the counter before popping the the bottle open, pouring the two of you each a glass of wine. You handed him the glass and propped yourself onto the counter, letting your legs swing below you.

Daryl leaned against the counter and took a sip of his wine, humming in approval at the taste. “S'good. Thanks.”

“It's nothing, really. I've been wanting a reason to open the bottle for a while now.”

“Ya can't jus' drink it whenever ya want?” Daryl questioned, taking another sip from the glass in his hand.

“I could, but I prefer not to. I don't want to be like—” you started, but abruptly stopped. You hurriedly took a sip of your wine, welcoming the taste in your mouth.

“Like who?” Daryl asked, frowning at the uncomfortable look on your face.

You hesitated for a long moment, not sure if you should tell Daryl about your past problems. You were afraid that Daryl would look at you differently if you revealed anything. However, as you looked into his eyes, you only saw care and concern, so you found yourself confiding in him.

“Hazel's father,” you said, pursing your lips at the thought of the man you hated more than anything.

“Wha' was he like?” Daryl asked, placing his glass down on the counter. He turned his full attention to you, his eyes trailing over your face for any shift in emotion.

“He was a fucking asshole,” you spat angrily, clenching your jaw in anger. “He was a raging alcoholic and a frequent drug user. He didn't even stop when Hazel was born. If anything, it got worse. I tried so hard to get him sober, but nothing worked. He always yelled at me and threatened to hurt Hazel whenever I brought it up. And then one day, when I woke up, he was just... Gone. No note, no phone call, nothing. Hazel was barely one year old.”

Daryl frowned deeply, anger bubbling inside him at the thought of someone hurting you and Hazel so badly. He clenched his fist and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

“Not too long after that, the world went to shit. His sister came to pick us up and took us to her camp, and that's where I saw that asshole again. He treated Hazel so badly and got the other people in the camp to be mean to her. Hazel didn't even do anything wrong, but they all ganged up on her. Thankfully it never got physical, but that really scarred her. It went on until the camp got overrun, and all of those fuckers got what they deserved. The only reason Hazel and I got out was because his sister helped us. She sacrificed herself for us. After that, Hazel and I were on our own for more than a year. I'm surprised that I managed to keep us alive for that long on my own, but I managed. And then Aaron and Eric found us and the rest is history.”

Daryl was speechless. It angered him that someone would hurt you like that, would hurt little Hazel like that. And the fact that you had to survive on your own for that long... It amazed him. He wished that he could've found you earlier and have protected you and Hazel from all those horrors, but there was nothing he could do to change the past. He could only ensure that nothing ever touched you in the future.

“Yer a strong woman. The fact tha' ya went through all tha' and managed to keep Hazel alive and love her unconditionally proves tha'. Yer amazing and I hope ya know tha'.”

You were taken aback by the sudden confession, but soon a smile spread across your face. You hopped off the counter and stood in front of him, almost chest to chest. You looked up at him, your faces close enough to close the remaining distance between your lips.

“You're amazing too. I don't think you realise how much you mean to Hazel, how much you mean to me.”

With that, you closed the remaining distance between your lips. You pressed your lips against his softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. After a moment of shock, Daryl kissed you back feverishly, pulling you closer by your hips. You gasped against his lips, allowing Daryl to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into his lips and pressed yourself harder against him, eliciting a groan from the man.

As soon as you pulled away for air, you tugged Daryl by the lapel of his vest. “Wanna take this to my room?” you whispered, breathless from the ravenous kiss.

“Wha' 'bout Hazelnut? Won't she wake up?” Daryl asked, pressing his forehead against yours.

“No. She's out cold. The chances of her waking up are basically nonexistent.”

Daryl let out a deep breath and nodded, allowing you to pull him up the stairs. The two of you soon stumbled into your room, hurriedly closing the door and pawing at each other's clothes. However, when you reached for Daryl's shirt, he stopped you, a pained look on his face.

“What's wrong?” you asked, a worried look on your face. “Did I do something wrong?”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, ya didn't do anythin'.”

“Then what's wrong?” you asked him gently, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Talk to me. I won't judge.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. “I didn't have a good childhood,” was all he said before slowly removing his shirt.

Your eyes hungrily trailed over his body, your hands reaching forward to press against his chest. You didn't understand what Daryl was talking about until you got a glimpse of his back in the mirror in your room. The scars on his back were jagged, and you instantly knew what they meant; someone had hurt this perfect man before you, and you felt so angry.

You walked behind him. “May I?” you whispered, your hands hovering over his back.

Daryl hesitantly nodded. You softly ran your fingers over his scars, your touch feathery light. The archer shivered involuntarily, closing his eyes at the feeling. Before meeting you, the only feeling that he would ever associate with his back was pain from his father's cruelty, yet there you were, tracing over his scars as if they were priceless paintings in a museum.

Soon your fingers were replaced with your lips, and Daryl's eyes flew open. Your lips softly kissed over his scars, trailing down to the last scars on his lower back. When you were done, you turned him around to face you. You gently cupped his cheek, a small smile on your face.

“You're perfect to me, Daryl. You're so sweet, kind and caring. Hell, my daughter called you dad. That says plenty.”

“'M perfect?”

“You're perfect.”

That was all you had to say for Daryl to pull you into another fiery kiss. The two of you soon toppled onto your bed, spending a night filled with passion together.

That next morning when Hazel woke up and walked into your room, she was pleasantly surprised to find Daryl sleeping there, holding you, her mama. She was, however, confused that when she woke the two of you up, you clutched the sheets to your bodies and refused to let her climb under them with you like you normally would do.

—

Two years later...

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Hazel. Happy birthday to you!”

You and Daryl cheered as Hazel blew out the candles on her homemade cake. Hazel laughed as she struggled to blow out the last one of the five candles on the cake, eliciting soft chuckles from you and Daryl. When she finally managed to blow it out, you and Daryl handed her each a gift. She clapped her hands excitedly. She got up from her seat and ran to hug you and Daryl, which you both returned.

“Thank you, Mama. Thank you, Daddy,” she said with a big smile, eyeing the wrapped gifts on the table.

“Dun' thank us yet, Hazelnut,” Daryl responded with a smile. “Go ahead and open 'em.”

Hazel hurriedly opened each of the gifts and gasped with delight, holding up a colouring book, new crayons and a new doll. She giggled in excitement at the gifts.

“Can I go show these to Judith? We can colour and play dolls together now!”

You laughed and nodded. “Sure, baby. Just be good for Michonne and Rick, okay?”

“Okay!” she agreed and took off in a run, throwing the front door open and disappearing out of it.

“I can't believe she's growin' up so fast,” Daryl mumbled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I know, right? She'll be moving away from home soon enough,” you joked.

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed, chuckling at your joke.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, turning around in the archer's arms. “I got something for you, too.”

“Fer me?” he asked in confusion, frowning slightly. “Why? It ain't my birthday for another couple of months.”

“I know, but this can't wait that long. Here,” you said, handing him a small box.

Daryl gingerly took the box from your hands and opened it. His eyes widened at the item inside, picking it up and looking at it. After examining it for a couple of moments, he confirmed that his mind wasn't playing a trick on him—it was a positive pregnancy test.

“Yer—Yer pregnant?” he asked, a smile spreading over his face.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, nodding your head. A laugh escaped you when Daryl picked you up and spun you around, before he placed you back on the ground and pulled you into a kiss.

When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against yours. “Hazelnut's gon' have a baby sibling. We're gon' have another kid.”

“We are,” you agreed, closing your eyes. “I love you, Daryl.”

Daryl placed a gentle kiss against your forehead. “I love ya too. And I already love tha' little peanut in yer belly.”

“Hazelnut and Peanut, huh?”

“Yeah. Our two babies. Our own little family,” Daryl said, placing his hand on your stomach, over the life that was growing there.

“We have Hazel to thank for this. If she didn't instantly like you back then, this might never have happened,” you told him, placing your hand over his.

“Remind me to thank her when she gets back later. But fer now, let's enjoy our alone time,” Daryl replied suggestively, tugging you with him as he walked backwards towards the stairs.

“I like that idea.”

[ghost-proofbaby]

when you know, you know. (e.m.)

summary: air hockey has never been so romantic.

warnings: it's alluded to that reader is wearing red lipstick. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: a very late valentine's day gift for you all (and eddie). also, the fact i've never written proper mechanic eddie... what a shame.

“Yes!” 

If any of the nearby children flinched, you didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your victory, going as far as to partake in a terribly embarrassing dance on your end of the air hockey table as Eddie shakes his head slowly. 

“You definitely cheated,” he deadpans, a twitch of a smile nearly giving him away as he leans down to pick the puck out of the slot below on his end, “There’s no way you’re about to beat me in under five minutes, again.” 

You smile, lips painted red under the lowlights of the arcade as you lean over the table and taunt him, “Or maybe it’s just a skill issue. I wouldn’t keep beating you if you were actually a professional in air hockey like you’d claimed, Munson.” 

Three dates – tonight makes four – and you still hadn’t quite worked out how you’d managed to capture the attention of the boy before you. When he’d originally asked you out to coffee, you’d swallowed down all your excessive excitement just to answer him. The local mechanic that you’d been making heart eyes at every few months when you’d go in for an oil check, the one who hadn’t allowed the others at the shop to oversell you on a damn thing when you’d get your tires rotated. Who always smiled shyly as he’d bring you back your keys.

You’d figured the coffee date would last an hour if you were lucky. The two of you would spend more than five minutes in the same room together, he’d realize how overbearing you were, and that would be the end of it. Ridiculous crush effectively squashed. 

But it hadn’t. 

It had lasted hours, plural. Coffees finished and second lattes nursed until they’d gone cold, the outcome had been the exact opposite of your expectations. Your conversation had flowed effortlessly, common ground and common interests found with ease, and suddenly, Eddie was more than just some cute mechanic for your friends to tease you over. 

The first date had only ended due to his shift at the shop that afternoon. 

The subsequent sushi dinner date, and then the movie night the next week, had also lasted hours. 

“For someone who works on cars, you should be a lot better with your hands,” you poke gentle fun at him as he makes the first hit against the puck this time, far more careful than you had been when serving. 

“Or maybe I’m just determined to keep letting my pretty date win.” 

“And why would you ever do that?” 

Another hit from your mallet, the sharp tapping of your aggressive push ringing out over the sound of nearby machines. You don’t dare to glance in the direction of the ruckus, but you’re pretty sure someone has just won an exciting amount of tickets based on the squeals of glee. 

“I dunno,” Eddie pauses to shrug after he hits the puck once more, his guard dropping. You’re ruthless as you take the opportunity to shoot the puck straight into ‘goal’ on his side of the table. A straight shot, far too easy for your liking, but you still celebrate the victory with another embarrassing dance, “Maybe it’s because I’m into that ridiculous dance they keep doing whenever they score.” 

You immediately stop your little jumps, eyes widening, a rush of embarrassment heating you up from the inside out as Eddie’s eyes stay glued on you. The table powers down as he makes his way around it, feet bringing him right to you. 

You’d always thought Eddie would find you weird, or odd, or unappealing after that coffee date, but the outcome had been better than you could have possibly conceived.

He was an absolute weirdo as well. 

Fondness overtakes his features just like it had on that coffee date when you’d accidentally snorted at one of his jokes, and your heart flutters eagerly. You can’t believe there had been a time you’d only watch him from behind glass, trying to not get caught as you would blatantly stare at him as he’d work on your car. A time when you’d only see his curls up in loose buns rather than framing his face as they were now, a time when you couldn’t even shake his hand due to it being covered in oil. 

That had all only been a month ago, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without Eddie Munson in it. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he chuckles as he stops in front of you, smirk deepening the dimples you’d only noticed on your second date with him. He’d been too bashful the first date, ducking whenever his grin would grow too wide on you, biting his tongue on half the flirtatious remarks you wished he would have said. “You won, fair and square, so what’s your prize gonna be, valentine?” 

He also waited until the second date to kiss you. That had nearly killed you. 

“It’s not very fair if you let me win,” you whisper, unable to look away from his eyes. They’re a soft brown, a smooth honey, a nice sight for sore eyes. You kind of like the crinkles beside them, too. Kind of wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him, roll over, and kiss them – all before the sun ever rose. 

He reaches out and gingerly grabs your hand, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles before he entangles your fingers with his. “Psh, who said I let you win? Maybe I just really suck at air hockey.”

“You just-”

You never get to finish your argument. He’s quick to swoop down, capturing your lips in his. The rudest of interruptions, and it still manages to weaken your knees. 

Each kiss only grows sweeter. And more confident, more sure. The first one had been timid, exchanged on your doorstep with boyish hesitation and meek desperation. But now, several kisses experienced since that night, all apprehension has melted. He lets his lips meld to yours, captures your bottom lip just tightly enough to give it a brief tug when he pulls away. Still soft, ever so sweet, and leaving you wanting for more. 

Four dates. All it took was four dates for him to make you a goner. 

“Now, that wasn’t fair,” you breathe out, betrayed by the smile that you wear. Your chest feels shaken up, impending explosion of mushiness and flowers and hearts and every single cliche the love songs on the radio could squeeze out.

“It was your prize.”

“I never said I wanted a kiss for my prize.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he puts a dramatic hand up to his chest, leaning back so dramatically that your hand instinctively reaches out to loop a finger in his jean pocket to keep him upright, “Would you like me to take it back, my fair maiden?” 

Four dates, and he makes it impossible to not imagine a future of this. Of silly banter, of gentle mornings spent kissing away crows feet, of cutting one another off with the most infuriating of methods. You’re starting to believe you’re just a hopeless romantic, and he’d spotted that from a mile away – he knew every single button to press to have you putty in his hands, and he was taking full advantage of it. 

You giggle, an honest to God giggle, as you say, “Hm, I’m not sure. I heard the return policies on those are a bit wonky.” 

If your friends thought you were insufferable when he was some stranger you just had a crush on, they would be vomiting at the sight of this. 

He leans into your space, close enough to smell his faint cologne and mint on his breath, “Are they? Well, lucky for you, I’m friends with the shop owner. Can definitely accept the return without a receipt. It won’t be a problem, ma’am. I swear it.”

He’s weird. He’s goofier than you could have imagined, snarkier than you could have dreamed, and more romantic than you had yet to uncover. He’s kind of perfect, but you wouldn’t dare say that to his face. Not yet, at least. 

You’re glad you had said yes when he’d asked days prior for you to be his Valentine. And you’re glad he hadn’t gone the boring route, showing up with just chocolates and flowers and calling it a day, but had instead dragged you out to this arcade for a night of adventures as he claimed. 

“And how would one go about returning a kiss, kind sir?” 

He answers wordlessly, bringing up a finger to tap on his lips. He goes as far as pouting them dramatically. 

He wants you to kiss him. 

Lucky for him, you want to kiss him, too. 

Your kiss is more chaste. Teasing as you lift up onto your tippy toes and only press your lips to his for a brief second before falling back. You leave him wanting more – it’s written all over his face, along with a blush that races right over the bridge of his nose. 

He’s cute. He’s cute, and he’s weird, and you really fucking like him. 

“Now that that’s over with,” you have to change the topic, move right along before your heart truly bursts from your chest, “I know what I want my prize to be.” 

He takes a moment to recover, pupils almost resembling hearts as he stares down at you. Eventually he pulls himself from your trance, shaking his head as he asks, “And what would that be?”

You’re the one taking his hand this time. If he gave you the time, you’d like to learn each callous and scar by heart. Trace over them in the middle of night, when it’s just you and him in the darkness beneath your sheets. Memorize the way they feel as he explores every curvature of your body and figure out which of the roughest patches would brush against your most sensitive bits in a way that would make you arch your back right into him. 

The two of you haven’t even discussed if that’s where the night might lead, but you’re sort of hoping the luck in the air doesn’t run out. 

“There’s an awfully pretty ring in the case up at the ticket counter,” you muse, knowing damn well the ring was the ugliest thing either of you had ever seen in your lives, “Think you’ve got the tickets to spare?” 

His hand gives you a squeeze. Something not too tight, something perfectly comfortable. It’s only the fourth date, it’s only the first month – it’s only the beginning. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, more earnestly than you’d expected, as he steals another kiss. 

You let him. You have this aching feeling in your chest that you’ll probably let him steal an endless amount from you for the rest of your life. 

When you know, you know. Or whatever the poets say.

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[yuusishi]

. . . a shell gift

pairings : Neuvillette x gn!mermaid!reader

genre : fluff , written before 4.0 release

cws/tws : none

a/n : haha. do tou guys get it. a shell gift…a swell gift… also I should rlly start making the genshin masterlist but I’m like…so lazy rn

Neuvillette !!

“And…what is this supposed to be?” Neuvillette asked, holding the pink clam shell adorned with minuscule pearls and pieces of ribbon glued on.

As if rehearsed, a little white otter popped up beside you from the water, “Look at this tiny guy, don’t you think you look like him? He even has a pink clam shell too!” Neuvillette furrowed his brows and his gaze land on the creature next to you, its white fur and dark blue highlights reminiscent of the man in front of you.

“You called me all the way to the sea to compare me to an otter?” He said, it sounds mean but you know he bears no ill will, “C’mon, Neuvi, you’re always working nowadays. It’s nice to take a break, y’know?”.

Neuvi.

You were right, it has been a long time since he’s got to fully immerse himself in the sea, to the point he felt that it’s been too long since he’s heard you call him by that nickname. He doesn’t even know when you started calling him that.

Neuvillette sighed and looked at you “You can come join me if you want, I’m definitely not going to stop you” you smiled, another sight he felt he’s gone too long without seeing. He knew he had to go to work already, he knew he has Focalors waiting at the Court of Fontaine, but what is he if not weak towards the temptation that’s you.

Slowly stepping into the waters, he relieved himself of the clothes tailored for his human form and let him breathe in the fresh waters in his original form, one built for the seas. He breathes out a satisfied sigh, like getting in bed after a long day, it’s also been too long since he’s dived back into the water.

He looks back at you and you’re once again smiling brightly at him, your gaze warm.

“Welcome home, Neuvi”.

—

Once again, he’s back in his office, the stuffy feeling filling up his senses and he felt unusually distracted by it all when he thought he got used to it already. He opened his desk’s drawer and takes out the pink shell that you gave him earlier that day, what was supposed to be just a ten minute visit turned into the entire afternoon being spent swimming around and playing games with you which earned him overtiming late into the night.

But he doesn’t regret it, he felt grateful you basically forced him out of the suffocating environment around him and took him back home. Neuvillette inspects your gift closer, it was hard to see that you even put glitter on the shell and waterproof stickers behind it, were you planning to tempt him to swim with you from the start?

A rare smile makes its way into Neuvillette’s usually stoic face as he sets the gift beside his desk lamp, he felt like it was wrong to hide something so precious to him.

[sparkrls]

delayed proposal

MASTERLIST

Summary: in which Harry’s got a few secrets up his sleeve and Y/N just wants to know if he’s going to propose

Author’s Note: this is the blurb i was talking about with bandmates!harry x y/n. remember to like and reblog because i crave validation. love ya <3

Word Count: 1.1k

•••

“Are you going to propose soon?” Was the last question Harry expected to be uttered out of Y/N’s bright pink lips.

It was just another Sunday night, the couple trying to enjoy those last fleeting moments of weekend relaxation before Monday arrived with the usual burden and obligations of being working adults.

In little less than 12 hours, Y/N would be back to her 9-5 job being an assistant to a high-class executive of a finance company. Her boss had too much authority for being so irresponsible and more money than anyone would need in a lifetime. What a luxury it must be to have your dad pass down a company you didn’t know how to run down to you.

Her boss wasn’t a horrible person, he was quite respectful and kind when asking her to do tasks, he was just a very exploitative executive. He had learned from his father to be unbending and demanding.

Y/N’s work paid a good wage, enough for her to pay her bills and still have a bit left. She wasn’t one to buy luxuries, though, preferring to save money up so she could one day quit her 9-5. And then dedicate herself to the things she did every day after work: picked up her red electric guitar, adorned a black skirt that bordered on too short, and perform for (currently small) crowds of people who cheered her band on as they played.

There wasn’t anything Y/N loved quite as much as the rush of being on stage, the bass making the stage shake with each loud thrum, sticks clashing with plates of a drum and the velvet voice of an angel, Harry singing through the microphone and his eyes on her and her fingers moving over the fret of the guitar.

They played small clubs and rundown bars, getting payed a poor wage for the extrenous effort used to get four adults with full time jobs to align their schedules in order to rehearse. Sometimes all they got were free drinks, but they took what they could get and did it for the love of it.

That was how they got here, on Harry’s couch, his arm draped around her shoulders, and her head on his chest. They were watching Bluey, the way they did most nights they spent together. He would always roll his eyes when Y/N suggested it, pretending to hate it, but she knew it was his favorite show, and he always cried at the emotional episodes.

Their instruments lay forgotten on the table, his blue guitar next to her red one, as they’d spent most of the afternoon drinking beer and writing a new song.

It was a question that had been lingering in the back of Y/N’s mind, and she wasn’t quite sure why she chose that moment to blurt it out, but she did. “Are you going to propose soon?”

Harry’s gaze turned to her, eyebrows raised in light surprise, a small breath exhaled between his lips in a faint chuckle. “What?”

It was too late to take it back, so Y/N sat up and told him, “You’ve always talked about wanting to settle down and get married.” His features remained in small confusion. “We’ve been together for a while. Are you going to marry me?”

“Well, of course I’m going to marry you,” Harry said, like it were some scientific fact that everyone knew and was unchangeable. “You’re my forever, baby. I’ve written about a hundred songs about it.” His lips turned up in a smile. That smile he wore every time he told her he loved her, with a cocky and smug edge as if he were teasing her, laced with affection.

“I don’t mean we have to get married this instant, but I just, I guess we’ve never talked about if we were getting engaged or when and I-“

“Baby,” Harry cut off her nervous rambling, chuckling. He kissed her, soft lips with cracked edges from the cold and dry weather. “I already know what ring I’m going to buy. I’m just saving up for it.”

Y/N’s mind blanked for a moment. “You’re already thinking about rings?” Her lips parted in surprise.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, silly girl. You’re not the only one thinking about marriage.” He smiled at her, reassuring her that he was just teasing. “In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, still in shock. Here she was, getting all nervous and insecure about marriage and he had already been planning to propose. Her question now seemed a bit foolish. She looked up at him and said, “You know I don’t need some needlessly expensive ring, right? You could buy it on Aliexpress and I couldn’t care less.”

Harry looked at her with slight amusement. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said with a small nod. “It’s stupid to spend money on a ring when it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

Harry sighed. “Baby, it’s not about the ring being expensive. It’s about the ring being a symbol for my devotion to you. And I want my devotion to be apparent in the beauty of it.” He tapped the finger on her left hand where the ring would lay. “No, I don’t have to spend money on an expensive ring. That’s why I’m not just getting a huge diamond. I’m getting something you’ll love.”

“But it’s expensive and it’s a waste of money on a simple ring-“

“Is it just a ring? Or is it a symbol of matrimony, of us being together forever?” Harry said gently, correcting her statement. “Not to mention you’re going to be wearing that ring every day ‘till you die.”

Y/N made a sound of contradiction. “Unless we get a divorce.”

Harry stared at her blankly for a few moments. He deadpanned, “Not funny.”

“Kinda funny,” Y/N said with a small smile.

She waited for Harry’s stern gaze to soften with adoration the way it always did. It only took a few moments for his composure to crumble and he leaned in close to her. His nose grazed against hers as he muttered quietly, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

The way he said it sounded like a declaration of love. Everything he said to her did. Because his love could never be called in to doubt. It shone through every word he uttered, every song he wrote, every thing he did.

His lips locked onto hers once again, the tension in his muscles melting away as if all he needed to feel complete was to be pressed against her. To have every inch of skin surrounding her, the taste of beer still on her tongue, and the scent of spring enveloping his senses.

“I’m going to marry you,” Harry uttered, an oath murmured against her lips before placing a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her close once again.

[causenessus]

Dating Them. | Haikyuu

inc. akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, sugawara, kageyama, kuroo

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)

song recc: i got carried away and gave them all a song but i can't help myself so if u want another one, loverboy by a-wall

word count: 3105 words

summary: "what does dating them look like?"

i love them all sm <3 hopefully these all make sense!! tysm to @luvring for sending me down a deep retrograde with rex orange county whom i almost chose to link a song to for everyone but then narrowed it down to just oikawa <3 also almost put in we & us for akaashi but freaked out 💃 pls check out this post by her that inspired me!! it was so sweet

akaashi

even if my heart stops beating you're the only thing i need with me even if the earth starts shaking you're the only thing worth taking even if the sky's on fire got you here, it's alright

looks like little gifts and notes left for each other everywhere

lunches made for the other left in lockers and on desks with little love notes <3

tell me he wouldn’t end every note to you with a little " ♡ ᵕ̈ " i dare you

you both handwrite the notes because texts are for losers

unless ofc one of you is out of town and you’re separated

then there are good morning and goodnight and i miss you texts

ending with ୧⍤⃝💐 and ᴖ̈ emojis

you both are very busy people so you just try to make sure the other is taken care of and knows they’re loved until you guys see each other again <3

dates are always lovely with him but the best part of them is when you guys get to go home

when it’s late at night and one of you is between the legs of the other, laying against their chest as you both do your individual things or something together

since life is so hectic it’s nice to just have these quiet moments in each other's presence <3 all he needs is to be around you and he doesn’t need anything else

there's definitely so many intimate and domestic moments with him

getting home from games used to be one of the worst parts of playing volleyball but you’ve made him look forward to it 

he loves to call or text you on the way home <3

if you’re able to stay at his house and be there when he gets home even better !!

you’re always taking care of him, making him something to eat or cleaning him up <3

how you guys started getting interested in each other?

I think at first sight you were curious about each other but one specific interaction sealed the deal <3

akaashi for sure knows so many random facts and how things work and most of the time when bokuto says something, it’s incorrect and akaashi will correct him <3

one afternoon when you three were together, bokuto was rambling about something he thought was impossible and threw a look towards akaashi, “and i don’t want to hear a ‘well, actually’ from you, there’s no way i'm wrong. if we're building things on earth that means more stuff on it and so it's getting heavier.”

akaashi only smiled, looking at his fingers as he played with them, “yes, but everything we're making those buildings out of already existed on the earth prior to–”

bokuto groaned, hands in his hair as he bent over, “no way! you know too much akaashi, I don’t even know if that’s a good thing or not” 

you let out a small laugh at the exchange. you wanted to add something but your chest tightened with anxiety, fearing that it would reveal how you truly felt. however, it slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, “i actually like it, i think it’s really cool that you know so much, akaashi-san. i admire it.”

bokuto, still bent with his arms on his legs immediately turned his head towards you with sharp eyes and brows raised, a teasing smile on his face

akaashi, on the other hand, had turned slightly red, his lips stuck between wanting to smile and trying to play off the compliment as if it hadn’t made his heart stop for a second

you’re cheeks had also warmed, realizing that if bokuto immediately got it through his thick skull (with love ♡) there was no way akaashi hadn’t

since he’s quiet by nature, the sweetest thing for him is someone who will really listen to what he has to say and the fact that you found it interesting just topped it all off <3

bokuto

sweet talk everything you say it sounds like  sweet talk to my ears

looks like seeing each other in the halls and he brightens up, the world literally getting brighter as he sees you and he can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across his face <3

i think what he really needs is someone that matches his energy. you might be a little calmer than him due to the fact that you’re not jumping up and down but you’re just as happy, a smile wide on your face, eyes wide and you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him as well

if you are able to, you always come to his matches and it makes a difference in his playing <3

ofc before dating he was just as amazing as a player but now that he gets to see you while doing what he loves, there’s so much energy and happiness that wells up in him he ends up jumping higher and being more vocal

without a doubt he’s always looking up to you in the stands before every rally

it makes your heart stir, too, whenever he makes eye contact with you and you can’t help but smile and cheer with all the love in the world whenever you both meet eyes

whenever he’s home from a match, you bet that he’s heading to you as soon as possible if you allow him to

loves to collapse on you, strong arms wrapped around your waist and he rests his head on your stomach, body between your legs

will fall asleep so fast if you run your hands through his hair, loves it if you just comb through it from the front, pushing it back as they slide to the back of his head and then move back to the front to run through the strands again

even better if you talk to him as you love on him while he’s resting on you

hugs you tighter when you praise him, letting out a small sigh as he relaxes

“you did so well today, kou. ‘m so proud of you,” you hum.

“you mean it, baby?” he mumbles, face still buried into your shirt.

“i mean it. i would never miss any of your games if i can help it for the world, love.”

the last thing he can get out is an “i love you so much" before his eyes fall shut

oikawa

girl, if you want it there’s no good reason not to love if you want it

looks like keeping him company even when it’s three in the morning <3

he’ll hold you close or have you on his lap, arms wrapped around you when he’s up at night watching other team’s volleyball matches

loves to talk you through the plays as well if you have any questions

will take the time to pause the video and point out anything <3

“see what they did here? they purposely left an opening in the block for the libero to cover. it corners the spiker either way,” he spoke softly, a small smile on his face as he explains the tactic to you.

“i think i understand. you guys have done that before too, right?” you nod, eyes focused on the screen as you lean to the side, resting your head on his shoulder

he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, “we have, pretty. i didn’t think you paid so much attention.”

“of course i do!” you pouted, tilting your head to look slightly on him. 

he met your eyes with a teasing smile, “i’m only joking, princess. i see how hard you focus, you look super cute when you do, after all.”

you buried your face into his shoulder, too red to keep looking at him

you’re definitely a part of his squad (iwa, makki, matsu) even if you’re a grade below them

if you didn't already know them, he also definitely introduced you to the group as “his girl”

from then on out, you had four scary guard dogs should you ever need them <3

he’s glad to have someone so close to him that also gets along with his friends, so he’s happy as can be when you’re all hanging out

ofc also enjoys one on one time with u as seen above

after matches, you’re always loving on him, whether he won or lost

if he won, similar to bokuto, you’re praising him the whole way, pressing kisses to his forehead as he lays on you, completely content as he rests

if he lost, there’s no words exchanged between you two until he’s ready. it’s not that words will lead to anything bad, but you know what will help him. you know that for him, he’ll recover with time. after he’s thought about it, he’ll express all his feelings and emotions to you, so you only need to wait for him to be ready. in the meantime, you’ll love on him and make sure he takes care of himself. you’ll stay with him so that he knows he’s not alone and when he’s ready, you caress his face, softly wiping his eyes whenever they tear up and listen to anything he wants to say <3

iwaizumi

my baby here on earth showed me what my heart was worth so when it comes to be my turn could you shine it down here for her?

looks like giving you gifts everytime he sees you

probably actually started with you giving him gifts all the time first <3

def friends to lovers i can see it

when you started giving him gifts, it stirred something inside of him and his friends kept telling him that you definitely liked him back

he was still unsure tho bc we’re talking a man with a whole fan club and two other men who have nothing better to do but tease other people so how trustworthy is their advice really

but he wanted to be hopeful so he started getting you things too (credit to makki & matsu, best wingmen)

because your relationship with iwa was 100% friends to lovers, said wingmen + whatever oikawa is definitely supported you both and were trying to play cupid

makki and matsu helped iwa find out what you liked without making it obvious and since he was too nervous to ask you on his own

also tried to inconspicuously ask if you were interested in anyone in which you immediately turned red and hid your face

the two boys turned to each other with a smirk because they knew they were definitely right

they probably got you to plan a confession to iwa, swearing on their lives that iwa liked you back

(makki and co. also definitely found a way to listen to it all go down and probably even recorded it)

as soon as you guys start dating he’s all over you <3 probably beats you to buying something most of the time but you still try to buy him things as often as you can

i think he’d adore flowers from you <3 they’re some of the sweetest things you can get them

mad dog respects you as an extent of his respect of iwa

definitely lots of words of affirmation in your relationship too

after the spring high semifinals you were in his lap, letting him hide his face in the crook of your neck as his whole body shook

you rubbed the back of his head with one hand, the other placed on one of his arms which were wrapped around you,

“i just want you to know how proud i am of you, hajime. i could hear you everytime you brought up your team. you did so well. you taught them so much. you’re so observant, you’re so strong. i couldn’t be more proud of you, love.”

he tightened his hold on you, and you felt his tears on your neck. “i know. i know it hurts a lot, baby. i’m here for you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his head.

sugawara

she said i dressed in your favorite  i bought two bottles of red unless you made reservations oh look, you thought all ahead

looks like mothering his flock of children with him and taking care of him after he has taken care of the rest <3

lots of resting on each other’s shoulders throughout the day bc you both are so tired

whenever you guys are on dates, his favorite parts are always the train ride back home, he loves the gentle rocking of the train that lulls you both to sleep as you lay on each other, there’s just something so safe and intimate about it

ofc he loves doing things with you and you both try to spoil each other rotten, surprising each other with gifts and dates

some of your favorite dates to go on are just walks around outside

you guys take turns finding different locations to travel to just so that you guys can admire the beauty together

can u imagine? two pretty people walking around in pretty nature?? it’s too much <3

he loves walking in the winter at night because most of the time you guys will get to see pretty lights too!!

and if u get cold he gets to give u his jacket so two birds w/ one stone

if he’s feeling generous he’ll invite one of the children to walk with you guys while looking at christmas lights

it’s different every time

one night it was hinata, bundled warm in jackets and bouncing around between you and suga

another night it was kageyama, as calm and collected as ever but he enjoyed looking at the lights with you guys

you definitely bought him hot chocolate bc you couldn’t handle the parental love bubbling in your heart for the boy

(mama y papa?--)

but you both were def alone on christmas night when he took you out to walk in the middle of the city, where pretty lights shined at every angle and in every direction <3

he can’t help but kiss you a lot whenever he sees your pretty lips

and you love to kiss his little beauty mark below his eye <3

whenever he’s playing in games, you’re always cheering the loudest

afterwards you’re always flooding him with compliments too once you’re both home or through text message if he’s on the bus ride back

“u always notice so much during matches!! whenever u get in you always have something to tell everyone it’s so cool :000”

“and when you spiked, love, you did so good. we were all freaking out in the stands bc you had just been shut down before and you still went through with it completely!!!”

he'll smile at your energetic messages before replying with his own,

“thank u thank u <3 i can only do so well because i have my own personal cheerleader”

“I’ll see you soon, ok? we’re almost back to school, i love you so much, angel”

if his teammates hadn't drilled it into his head already how much he meant to them, your messages alone would make it worth it <3

kageyama

i wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind... can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?

looks like dates to the milk vending machine and walking together around school <3

he’s already waiting outside your class during breaks and when lunch starts

you step through the door and jump when you see him

“tobio? how are you already here? class just ended?”

“...do you wanna go to the vending machines with me?”

“did you leave early?”

he averts his eyes immediately, trying to think of an excuse but you just sigh to yourself and start to walk, “what am i going to do with you? let’s go before class starts.”

“i wanted to see you,” he mumbles, eyes lowered to the floor and his cheeks dusted pink as he follows after you

your eyes widen at the response and you almost trip over your feet before you smile and lean closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek

“i love you too, tobio.”

he’s another boy you’re constantly fighting with to pay for things

sometimes you’re racing to the machine because you’re so desperate to buy him something but there’s no way you’re winning against him even if he gives you a headstart

you work hard to take care of him, though, and you have your ways of getting back at him even if he ends up paying at the vending machine

he’s so horrible at taking care of himself, especially with the amount of times he stays late to practice with hinata

you started to sneak milk cartons and eventually meals into his bags so that he’ll at least be fed

definitely lots of study dates between you both as well, you’re singlehandedly carrying his grades rn

but it’s worth it when you see him on the court <3

he tends to look at you before every serve, and you can feel your heart buzz whenever he makes eye contact with you

seeing him work so hard in volleyball and have so much fun, you can’t help but fall in love with him all over again, and you’ll do anything you can to help him and make sure he can achieve his dreams <3

kuroo

you wanna go out, i wanna finish living you wanna get up, when i could just lay all day, with you

looks like showing up at your door whenever he feels like it either to take you out or to be at home with you <3

after the first time he insisted that he walk you home and you let him, he started visiting you more often

ofc you let him in everytime, you were glad he was the one making moves because you wanted to be around him more, you just didn’t know what to say

when you both started officially dating, you also obviously put in more effort to show that you appreciate him and love to be with him

but he’s always more than happy to be the one to come to you as long as he knows you enjoy it as much as he does

speaking of which he’d really do anything for you

if he’s not already there, you could ask him to at two in the morning and he’d be there as soon as he could <3

especially if you text him something like “i had a nightmare” or “i can’t sleep” he’s over there in a blink of an eye

“alright, princess. are we staying up or should i tire you out?”

🧍

😳

anyway

he’s making any excuse to be close to you

he’s probably helped you in a few subjects if you were struggling with the material

ofc in exchange for kisses <3

he’s surprised when you come to his games, i feel like he’s probably not used to having a lot of people come to cheer him on and he doesn’t want to bother you about having to come to gymnasiums to watch him

but you come of your own free will and it makes him smile, he’s more than ready to crush his opponents to show off for you <3

after games, you’re throwing yourself into his arms as soon as you get to him and he’ll catch you with just as much adrenaline and excitement running through his veins at the sight of you <3

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Getting through your second presentation feels like a battle of wits against your own body. Then after weeks of barely being able to stomach anything, you are presented with the most enticing dinner. But it's the food that's alluring, not your dinner mate, and Bradley has a few things to say about the mess you get yourself caught up in.

Warnings: Swearing, adult language, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff, phone sex, masturbation

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You slept like a lovesick log after your long drive back to the hotel from the cemetery. Exhausted from throwing up in the shrubs, you curled up in bed and watched the video you took for your son or daughter. You had recorded yourself reading both headstones and having a little conversation with your in-laws about the baby. It was just meant to be something you and Bradley could watch one day with the nugget, but it brought a smile to your face. 

You were decidedly no longer smiling when you woke up on Wednesday and had to race to the toilet. "Why is this happening again?" you asked the bath mat as you curled up in a ball. You had another, longer presentation to give. You had admirals to chat with. You had a whole lot to get done today. You didn't have time for this right now.

Even brushing your teeth was a chore. Changing into your uniform was an issue. At least your pants felt a little looser today. You honestly could not keep up with the way your body was bloated half the time and normal the rest of the time. 

You realized your makeup was pretty much the only thing holding your life together at the moment as you swiped on some mascara. Then there was a knock at your door, and it felt like you were doing the same thing all over again today, because essentially you were. You and Cat had to struggle with the bin of equipment. You had to fight to stay awake in the rental car. The nausea was turning  your life into a game of sheer determination to keep the bagel that you ate from coming back up. 

"Are you okay?" Cat asked you a few minutes before the presentation was about to start. 

"Of course," you told her in what you hoped was a reassuring tone. "Why wouldn't I be?" You shrugged and smiled serenely at her. 

"Because you're sweating bullets. And you've been pacing around the hallway."

You cleared your throat and insisted, "It's just really hot in here."

"It's not," she replied. "Please. I'm begging you. Just keep it together for another ninety minutes, okay? After that, you can do anything you want. Hell, I'll do anything you want me to do. But we need to get through this presentation." 

Her voice sounded panicked, and now you were looking around the hallway for a garbage can. But it was too late. The two of you were being called into the presentation room. Commander Patterson and Admiral Klein were sitting in the front row smiling at you. Shit, more admirals were here today. Oh fuck, all of these people wanted to hear your extended presentaion. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck, past your shoulder blades and along your spine. You wanted Bradley. You wanted Bradley to hold you and let you throw up everywhere and tell you that you were still pretty and that he loved you even if you cried on the toilet and ate crackers while you lay on the floor. 

Tears burned your eyes, and Cat looked like she was going to scream. Pull it together. Ignore the sensation. Clip the microphone onto your shirt. Start talking. 

"Good afternoon. Lieutenant Coleman and I are back to expound upon our research presentation from Monday which covered communications engineering at Top Gun. You can find a copy of our slides in the information packet in front of you. Please hold your questions until we pause for a break. Let's get started."

--------------------------

Bradley really wasn't doing well without you at home. He was barely eating anything besides cereal and sandwiches, and he was going to bed hungry at night. The only fun he'd been having was slowly filling up that pink and blue notebook with his musings for the little nugget.

He was having a hard time sleeping, and he didn't like how quiet the house was. Even Tramp kept looking for you, occasionally running to the front door and whimpering. "We'll see her on Friday," he told the dog as he had potato chips and coffee for breakfast on Wednesday morning. "Two more days of this bullshit." 

When he got home from work on Tuesday, he broke down in tears as he looked at the photos you sent him from the cemetery. You even took a video where you were talking to him and the nugget and his parents. He still couldn't believe you took the time to drive there and make it so special for him. After he finished crying, he made his way back up to the attic where he took the half wall down to the studs. Then he realized that he really needed to call some contractors before you came home and saw the mess he made. 

While he drove to work in the red Bronco, he left messages, hoping to get some estimates in the next week or so. One thing that he'd been slowly coming to terms with was the fact that you didn't need him to take care of you by paying for everything. Both of your incomes were going toward the mortgage payments and all the necessities. You'd both been saving money for the future, and he figured the future had arrived since there was a baby on the way. 

When he parked in the garage on base, he noticed he had some new texts from you.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I miss you. I'm struggling today. I think the nugget hates me. I'll call you later after my presentation and all of this other shit is over. 

He wanted to text you back, but he didn't want to be a distraction, so he tucked his phone into his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been reading every pregnancy article online that he could find, but none of the tricks he saw were helping you with the nausea. You were probably just going to have to wait it out. He would be ready to rub your shoulders and put a cool washcloth on the back of your neck when you got home.

Bradley walked the long way around to the classrooms since he was early and didn't need to stop in the locker room to change. When he passed the stairwell that would have taken him up to your office and the engineering labs, he swore he heard Bob's voice. He paused, and he definitely heard Bob's laugh. When the door to the stairs opened, he heard Bob say, "We can always find out later tonight if you want to invite me to your room again." And then there was a very familiar, feminine laugh before Bob appeared ten feet ahead of him.

He stared at Bob, and Bob stared back as the door closed, leaving the two of them alone. Bradley thought back to the way Bob and Maria were looking a little cozy at brunch last Sunday. This was interesting.

"Hey, Bob," Bradley said with a grin. "How are you enjoying your new apartment with Maria?"

His cheeks immediately flushed pink, and Bradley bit his lip to keep quiet as Bob started stuttering. Frankly, he was proud of his friend for sounding so much more self assured a few seconds ago when he was tucked inside the stairwell with Maria. "I-I d-don't know... are y-you... I d-din't think that..."

Bradley let him flounder through a few more partial sentences before he said, "If you're hooking up with Maria Wilson, then good for you, man. Well done."

Bob cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses and ran his hand along the back of his neck. "Thanks," he muttered as he stared at the floor. 

"You want me to keep this information to myself?"

Bob's blue eyes went wide as they met Bradley's. "Please." He swallowed hard. "I don't think she wants anyone else to know." His voice was just a whisper as he said, "I'm sure she'd be embarrassed if people found out."

Then he turned and left Bradley standing there alone. He'd been in that position before with you. Before you made things official. And he had been miserable. "Poor Bob," he muttered as he followed him at a distance. The best case scenario would be if Maria confided in you when you got back from Annapolis. Bradley would have to be cool about you going to brunch on Sunday even though he already wanted you and the baby all to himself again all weekend.

-----------------------

You made it. Somehow you got through the full hour and a half. You nailed your parts, and so did Cat. You and she answered questions for at least an additional thirty minutes, and now she was packing up the equipment while you sent a quick text to Bickel. 

"Your research is very compelling, Lieutenant Commander."

You looked up into the eyes of Commander Patterson, and he smiled warmly at you. Unfortunately, the only thing you could really think about was the way you'd been picturing Bradley's cock the last time you talked to him. At the moment, you were so fucking horny, you felt like rubbing yourself against the wall and crying until you got some relief.

"Thank you, sir," you managed to say while you tried to focus on his face and his words. "It has really become a passion project, trying to keep actual aviators in the air versus the drone agenda. Real people making real decisions based on their surroundings and the immediate threats they are facing will always win out against a laboratory manufactured software protocol."

"I couldn't agree more." He took a step closer and said, "And the way you presented your findings made it so clear that you're eager for others to understand how important that is as well."

"Absolutely," you told him with a smile of your own. "And the funding for communications research is so important." 

You were probably going to have to go to the cocktail hour tonight just to get your face out there since you skipped the previous one to drive to Virginia. But you were almost instantly saved from having to do that as Commander Patterson said, "I'm planning on having dinner this evening with a few of the admirals if you'd like to join us. Cocktail attire. Overpriced steaks. You know, the usual." 

His slight eye roll had you laughing and agreeing immediately. That sounded a lot better than trying to ditch champagne flutes all night. You'd still be able to chat with some superiors, and right now, you were actually hungry. "That sounds great. I'll see if Lieutenant Coleman can join as well."

With that, his smile wavered a bit, but he told you the name of the restaurant, and you promised to be there at seven o'clock. Cat had all the equipment packed up, and she was ready for you to help her carry the bin. "Hey, you want to come eat an overpriced steak later? With Commander Patterson and some others?" you asked as you tried your best to lift with your legs.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I already agreed to some stupid happy hour with a handful of admirals, but I love overpriced food when you don't have to pay for it."

You laughed and said, "That's probably better. We can divide and conquer this way. Bickel will like that."

As the two of you hoisted the bin into the rental car, Cat smiled and said, "You know what else he'll like? The fact that we nailed the presentation again today. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Don't do it again," you told her with a smirk. Of course then you promptly started falling asleep while she drove back to the hotel, and when you got to your room, you passed out in bed until it was time to get ready for dinner. 

It was only three o'clock for Bradley, and even though you wanted to call him, you decided to wait a little longer. You inhaled a pack of peanut butter crackers while your stomach growled loudly. "What is with you today?" you asked the baby. "You're finally hungry? Or are you going to make me barf again?" You got a loud rumble in response. "I know you like Daddy better, and we'll be home in two days. Relax."

As you redid your makeup, you started thinking about Bradley. And then you thought about how delicious he smelled right after he finished a workout. And then you thought about how nice and big his cock is. And then you thought about all the sounds he makes and the way me moans your name when his cock is inside you.

"Oh hell," you whined, pressing your thighs together. You needed to get some relief with your toys until you could get back home, but you didn't have time for that right now. The combination of being so hungry and so horny was almost too much to handle, and you ended up calling Bradley on the short drive to the restaurant. It was barely four there, so you were surprised when he answered. 

"Hey, Sweetheart."

Two words. He said two fucking words, and you were moaning and having a hard time focusing to drive. "Roo. Oh my god."

"What's wrong?" he snapped immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you gasped, parking the car and squeezing the steering wheel. "I'm just so horny. And Commander Patterson asked me out to dinner, and I seriously need to get fucked, Bradley. Like you have no idea how bad it is right now."

You could hear him mutter something, and then you thought you heard Jake's voice before Bradley quietly said, "Baby Girl, I'll fuck the absolute shit out of you all weekend. In fact, I can't wait to do that. I'll take care of everything you need."

"Daddy," you moaned, realizing you should have masturbated instead of taking that nap.

"But please tell me who the fuck Commander Patterson is. All I know is that you said he's that guy who asked if Top Gun aviation is the right fit for you?" Another moan escaped your lips as you thought about being a tight fit for your husband. "Yeah, you sound wrecked, Sweetheart," he crooned in that raspy voice. "I don't think you should go to dinner with some guy I don't know. I don't care what his rank is.

You sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's not just with him. Some admirals are coming too. I need to meet the admirals, Bradley. And I'm already at the restaurant." When you looked further up the block, you saw Patterson heading inside.

Bradley made a frustrated sound. "Text me when you can? And call me when you're leaving later?"

"I will," you promised as your stomach growled. You were so excited that the nugget seemed to want to eat this steak, you almost hung up before you said, "I love you."

You straightened out your black cocktail dress as you practically ran down the sidewalk in your high heels which you rarely ever wore except in your bedroom with your husband. The delicious smells from the restaurant were wafting out onto the sidewalk, and you were going to cry if there wasn't some bread or something already waiting on the table. 

"There you are, Lieutenant Commander." 

Patterson was waiting inside the entryway where at least the sound of the air conditioner blasting and the conversation around you was blocking out your growling stomach. He was smiling as his hand found the small of your back. "Our table is ready. We can go right there." 

When he applied some pressure with his hand, you lurched forward. Perhaps he was just trying to help you navigate through the crowd, but he could keep his hands to himself. He must have known you were married. You decided to make a show of pointing out some hideous artwork with your left hand, practically shoving your rings in his face. "That's a lovely painting, Commander," you told him, but he just smiled and nodded at you before pulling out a chair at a table set for four.

"Please, call me Derek," he told you as he sank down into the seat across from you, and then he started using your first name without permission. The one blessing was the fact that there was an enormous basket of bread sitting right in the middle of the table along with a variety of spreads and dips. 

You moaned softly and had to bite your lip as you reached for a soft looking roll and the chive butter. Derek was staring at you with parted lips and wide pupils. Had he never seen a woman eat before? Had you ever been this hungry before? You licked your lips as you spread some of the butter onto the roll, and then you took a bite and moaned again. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

After weeks of feeling miserable, you finally knew you could stomach this meal right now. You were still so turned on, and yet your exhaustion was bone deep at this point, but the bread was like a lifeline to normalcy, and you were grabbing onto it. 

Derek cleared his throat as he watched you take those first few sumptuous bites. "I've got to know," he said smoothly, "exactly what would lure you back to Annapolis for good?"

You popped the rest of the roll between your lips and chewed it up before you said, "Nothing."

"There would have to be something. Better research facilities? Your own lab? Both of your degrees and your work are so impressive, you must know there would be endless possibilities for you here."

You were shocked. Running your own lab was your dream. The idea of being in charge of a research team made your skin prickle with desire. You hoped that could be a possibility someday, but you weren't even thirty-five yet. You figured maybe ten years from now when Bickel was getting ready to retire, you'd be able to take his place. 

"My own lab?"

Derek smiled, all white teeth and handsome expression, and then the waitress arrived. You wanted to jump out of your seat and hug her when she asked if you'd like to order any appetizers.

"Do you know when the others will be here?" you asked Derek. "Should we wait to order?"

He shook his head vaguely. "They'll be late. We can order. Get whatever you want."

You almost laughed giddily as you ordered three appetizers and then a steak dinner complete with garlic mashed potatoes and two vegetables. "We can share the appetizers," you said when he looked at you in surprise, even though you didn't want to. You placed your hand on your belly, trying to subtly thank the baby for cooperating right now. 

When the waitress finished taking his order and then departed, you asked, "Which admirals are joining us?"

"Hmm? Oh... uh, Rivera and Silverman."

You were not familiar with either of them which made you panic slightly. You should have done more research on who was attending each of the lectures. Why hadn't you done that? Oh, right... because you were too busy throwing up. The bread basket called to you, and before you knew it, you'd eaten more than half while Derek droned on about how amazing you'd be running your own lab. He didn't even know you, which made this more annoying than anything else, but your stomach was holding up spectacularly, so you could overlook it. You could have kissed the waitress when she came back with the appetizers.

"So, do you live alone?" he asked as you dipped two mozzarella sticks into some marinara sauce. You paused before shoving them into your mouth so you could chuckle. 

"No. I live with my husband and our dog." Then the fried cheese hit your tongue, and it was like you were living in a world of color after weeks in black and white. Your stomach gurgled pleasantly, finally accepting food once again. Tears of joy stung at your eyes as you took a forkful of crispy brussels sprouts and a potato skin.

Derek laughed and asked how old you were, but your mouth was full, so he said, "Let's just say, my career in Annapolis outlived my bad marriage. And that's been the case for many, many officers."

You swallowed the potato like it was a lead weight. That had definitely been the case for Cat, unfortunately. And you'd heard a lot of stories, sure, especially when you were at the Naval Academy. And perhaps that was part of the reason you fought against the mere idea of being with Bradley at first. One officer in a relationship with a civilian was bad enough, but two officers trying to make it happen together usually spelled disaster.

But you felt stronger with Bradley. The two of you worked hard to get through your struggles and end up in a better place. You and he were going to be parents, for fuck's sake. 

"Just sharing my two cents with you," Derek added, still smiling. "You're young, and you haven't lived it yet, but I can tell you that you'll go farther here than in San Diego. Especially if you're already open to the idea of having more."

You wanted to check the time on your phone; you must have been sitting here for over half an hour by now. The other two chairs were still empty. Derek was starting to get under your skin. 

"I'm open to the idea of pursuing my career at Top Gun along with my husband."

"He's an officer as well?" Derek asked with a laugh. "I'm sure he's having a great week back in San Diego without you."

You felt heat flame up your neck and into your cheeks as your steak dinners arrived. "Yes, he's an officer. He's a Top Gun aviator."

"He deploys?" Derek asked in disbelief before laughing harder. "You should make the move back to the east coast now, before he ruins your life. If he hasn't already."

He had gone from complimenting you to trying to humiliate you in a matter of minutes. You'd been blinded by the glorious meal, but the truth hit you square in the chest. As he picked up his fork and steak knife, you asked, "Why did you lie to me about two admirals coming? Do Rivera and Silverman even exist?"

Somehow his smile was still persistent as he said, "Sure, they exist. They went to the cocktail reception on base." You watched the knife sink into his steak as he added, "You're gorgeous. I wanted to get you alone. Let you know how much better things could be. Offer to set you up for a one-on-one meeting with Admiral Jennings tomorrow if you come home with me tonight. It's on the table if you want it."

In one quick movement, you snatched his plate away from him with the fork still stuck in the steak. "Okay, well fuck you, Derek," you snarled, standing up and waving for the waitress. "You're disgusting and delusional if you thought I would even consider going home with you."

"Can I get you anything?" the waitress asked cautiously, and you realized you were causing a bit of a scene now in the crowded restaurant. 

"Yes. I need boxes. Like a whole bunch of takeout boxes," you told her. "I'm taking all of this food with me."

"Right," the waitress replied, her gaze drifting to Derek who looked very unamused. 

"I'm taking his meal, too," you snapped. "Hurry up with the boxes."

She scurried away as you piled all of the food onto one plate and said, "You're so fucking stupid, Derek. I already have Admiral Jennings' phone number. I met her last year. I told her to her face that I'm staying in San Diego."

"Well then you're making a bad choice," he told you.

Then the waitress set down some takeout containers while you practically tossed the empty plate back at Derek. You scraped as much of the food into the first box as would fit before moving to the second one. "He's paying for dinner," you told the waitress. "And I'm taking one fork and one steak knife with me. He'll pay for those as well." You shoved the rest of the bread into the last box and then stacked them all up before meeting Derek's eyes. "You just ruined the first meal I've been able to stomach in weeks, asshole. And my husband is a nice man. Very sweet. Treats people with respect. But if he were here right now, you'd have a bloody face and some broken ribs." 

You picked up the boxes, grabbed the utensils, and made your way toward the exit. You went straight for your rental car and climbed inside before cranking the engine. Then you took a massive bite of garlic mashed potatoes before cutting off a piece of Derek's steak while you called your husband. 

-------------------------

Bradley was working out in the garage when your ringtone cut across the playlist you made for him. He practically dropped his barbell to the cement floor to get his phone from where it was sitting on the tool chest. "Sweetheart. I wasn't expecting to hear from you quite yet. Didn't we just get off the phone?" he asked with a smile as he ran his forearm along his sweaty face. "Not that I mind one bit." He was about to ask if you were done with dinner, but then he realized that you were crying. The sweat on his skin turned ice cold as he quickly asked, "What's wrong?"

"Roo," you wailed, and he started looking around the garage as if there was something out here that would help both of you calm down. "He ruined my fucking dinner!" you sobbed.

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he paced the length of the garage, running his fingers through his damp hair. "Who ruined it?"

"Commander Patterson."

Bradley honestly could not fathom how that guy had ruined your dinner. All he knew was that you told him you were horny as hell when you got to the restaurant, and that he didn't trust guys he didn't know around you. Most men were disgusting, and you were lovely and also pregnant with his child.

"Can you explain what happened so I can understand?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Yeah," you sniffed, and he heard a car engine start up in the background. "The nugget and I were both really enjoying the food. Like really enjoying it, Bradley. You know how I've been, and this was delectable and exactly what we both wanted. Like it was so good, if you'd been there with me looking super sexy, I would have probably had an orgasm in the middle of the damn restaurant."

Bradley swallowed hard as he stood in the garage, wondering where the hell this was going. "I understand. You haven't been able to eat much, so that must have felt amazing. Now can you tell me what's wrong?"

"He ruined it!" you replied loudly. "He lied to me! There were no admirals planning on joining us. He tricked me into meeting him there, and then he gave me fake compliments and accolades about my work. He told me that I could get ahead with a career in Annapolis if I slept with him, all because he wanted to fuck me!"

Bradley almost dropped his phone. "Did he touch you?" he growled, switching to speaker phone as he rushed through the backyard toward the house and looked for flights to Maryland at the same time. "Did he fucking touch you?!"

"No!" you practically shrieked. "No, he didn't touch me! You think I'd let him get anywhere near me after he ruined my dinner?"

"Where are you now?" he demanded. "And what's this Commander fucking Patterson's first name?" 

Bradley was seeing red as he walked inside and slammed the sliding glass door behind him, and Tramp ran whimpering into the spare room. The earliest he could get out of San Diego on an eastbound flight was a red eye that left at 9:30, and that was nearly four hours from now.

"I'm not telling you his name," you said softly with a little sniff at the end. "I'm afraid you'll strangle him."

Frankly, if Bradley got his hands on the asshole, he'd probably wish all he got was strangled to death. "Where are you now?" he asked again, trying to keep his voice calmer.

"In my rental car."

"Alone?

"Yes!"

"Good," he replied as he clenched and unclenched his fist and headed for the shower. "Go back to your hotel room, and text me the address. I'll stay on the phone with you until you get there, and then I'll be out on a red eye that lands in Annapolis at 5:55 tomorrow morning local time. And then you'll tell me his first name, and I'll beat the shit out of him for ruining your dinner and acting like my wife is his for the taking."

"Bradley," you said firmly. "I do not need you to come out here. I already feel better now that I told you about it."

"Well, I sure as fucking hell don't," he grunted, peeling off his sweaty clothes in the bathroom. "Does he know which hotel you're staying at? And where the hell is Cat?"

You groaned and said, "No, he doesn't know. And Cat went to the actual cocktail reception with the actual admirals. I seriously hate Commander Patterson. But I did steal his dinner, so that's making me feel a little bit better."

His thumb was hovering over his phone screen, ready to purchase a seat on this flight. "Wait, you stole his dinner?"

"Yes. I took it. When I tell you the food was that good, Bradley, I am not joking. I housed most of the appetizers and the bread basket, and then I took his plate before he even got a bite of his porterhouse. I dumped all of the food into takeout boxes, took some silverware, told the waitress he'd pay for everything, and then I left."

Bradley burst into laughter in spite of himself. He could actually picture it so clearly. The haughty expression on your face. Your biting wit once you figured out what was going on. The way you must have looked dumping the steaks into the containers. "You're a damn force to be reckoned with, Baby Girl. Are you driving back to the hotel with all the food?"

"Yeah. I mean I did eat a few bites when I first got back in the car, because the baby was demanding it, but I'm absolutely going to eat the rest in my room. Fuck that guy. He doesn't even deserve his overpriced steak. It's mine now."

Bradley cradled his forehead in his hand and laughed. "Do you really not need me to come out there?"

He heard you take a deep breath before you said, "I miss you a lot, but I really do not need you to come out, okay? The nugget and I are fine now, ruined dinner aside."

"Alright," he murmured. "If you change your mind, you have two hours to let me know, and I'll be knocking on your door by 7 in the morning."

You moaned and whispered, "God, that does sound good. I'm back at the hotel. Heading up to my room now. Any chance you feel like having phone sex before I eat my two steaks and roughly four pounds of potatoes?"

"Fuck," he grunted, his cock already getting hard as he looked down at himself. "Yeah. A hundred percent. Let me just get in the shower here."

"Okay, Daddy," you muttered, and Bradley was practically tripping over himself as he started up the spray of water. Once you were safely inside your room, you told him, "I'm ready when you are."

-------------------------

You got off twice to your vibrator and your husband's sexy voice. It was so easy to imagine him in the shower with the sound of the water in the background. You could picture the steam snaking around his body while he held his thick cock in his hand. You could practically taste his skin and smell the body wash he was definitely using as lube. 

"That's my sweet girl," he crooned as you started to peak for the second time. "When I get you home on Friday, my mouth is going to be all over that pussy. I miss you so much. I want my wife and my baby with me."

"Bradley," you whined, legs bent and shaking as you got closer. "I need you to fuck me. I'm so goddamn horny for you!"

He grunted right into the phone and said, "Keep it up, and I'll break your new car at the airport, too."

And then you came. Hard. Your chest was sweaty. Your back was arching off the bed. The vibrator rolled out of your grasp, and you stroked yourself with your fingers and whispered his name over and over. 

"I'm about to come," Bradley moaned. And you could hear the exact second he was probably making a white mess all over the tile wall. You imagined it on your belly instead. 

You just wanted to go home, and when your back finally settled against the bedding you said, "I need you to promise to fuck me at least twenty times between Friday night and Monday morning."

"Make it thirty, Sweetheart," he crooned as he panted. "At least. I fucking need it, too."

You turned your head to the side where a photo of him was still pulled up on your phone. "Sounds perfect. Don't forget, I'm having dinner with my mom and dad tomorrow, so please FaceTime when you're walking out of work if you can."

"For the love of all things holy, please don't talk about your parents when I'm still holding my cock."

You giggled, and then he laughed. "I won't do it again," you promised as you sat up in bed, eyeing the takeout containers on the desk. "I love you, Roo. I'm going to eat Derek Patteron's steak, take a shower, and then pass out."

"I love you too, Baby Girl. Can you put your phone down by your belly?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, pressing your lips together to keep from squealing at how sweet this man was.

"And I love you, too, my little nugget. Be nice to Mommy."

---------------------------

BG is all over the place... Roo probably has whiplash. Derek should be punished for ruining that meal for her and the baby. Just a few chapters left, and we'll have another series for them in the books! Thanks for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 34

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[navybrat817]

Easy as Pie

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, slight body worship, sensory deprivation (blindfolding), established relationship, light D/s vibes, mention of insecurities, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #2 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks for suggesting soft Andy, @whisperlullaby (body worship and sensory deprivation) and @drabblewithfrannybarnes (cockwarming). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Baking was a hobby you enjoyed and what better time to make pies than in the fall? When you asked Andy that morning if he'd prefer to have a pumpkin or apple pie for dessert that evening, he told you to choose for him. It was tough for you to decide. For pumpkin, the earthy pleasant flavor and creamy filling was a wonderful contrast to the flaky trust. For apple, the sweet and tart combination was both delicious and complex.

After a quick mental debate, you decided to bake Andy one of each so he could have the best of both worlds.

“I guess I'll just have to surprise you,” you told him before he left for work.

“Either way, I'll still want you for dessert.”

You were looking forward to that.

It would've been easy for you to buy crust or filling from the store, but you preferred to bake from scratch. As tedious as it was to get the consistency right, it was fulfilling to see your progress from beginning to end. You also told Andy that baking engaged your senses, from touch to taste to smell. It relaxed you as well as energized you. It was almost like the aroma pushed you to the finish line.

By the time you finished baking and cleaning up, it was late afternoon. You were proud of how the pies turned out. Plus the smile on Andy's face when he walked into the kitchen was worth double the work.

“Right on time,” you smiled, removing your apron as he glanced over where the pies sat on display. “How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home,” he said, loosening his tie before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. He brought his hands to your waist to hold you close, your body molding easily against his. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did, but it’s better now that you’re home,” you said in return.

“You had a good day baking a pumpkin and an apple pie for me?” He questioned as you nodded. “You spoil me, honey. Thank you.”

It was almost laughable that he considered you baking pies as spoiling him. He worked hard as a lawyer and was still a loving partner even with his often busy schedule. The least you could do was take care of him in some form, though you were certain you got the better end of the stick by being with Andy.

“Don’t thank me until you taste them. They may not be so great,” you teased.

The hands on your waist gripped you a little tighter. “Don’t do that.”

Self-deprecating was something Andy didn’t care for, especially when he knew how hard you worked. He understood that there would be days when you wouldn’t think the world of yourself, but he never wanted you to put yourself or your skills down. Even if you were joking and nothing more, he preferred that you saw the best in yourself. If you didn’t, he found ways to tell or show you how special you were.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” you said, shrinking slightly under his fierce gaze before you brushed your fingers along his thick beard. “I’m sure they taste great.”

“I’m sure they do, too,” he said, the blue of his eyes darkening as you moved your fingers to his hair. “Now say something nice about yourself.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you sifted through your thoughts, doing your best to find something positive to say that didn’t sound like you were bragging. “I put love into everything I do and that’s what counts.”

Andy’s piercing gaze softened as he gently held your chin, bringing a smile to both of your faces. “That’s how I know your pies will taste delicious. Because you made them with love.”

Praise was something you typically shied away from, but it was different with Andy. You welcomed the way warmth blossomed from your core and embraced how it spread from your head to your toes. “Double the love since you wouldn’t decide which one you wanted,” you said, his chest rising a bit as he chuckled. “Now you have to pick which one you want to try first. Unless you want to wait until after dinner.”

His brows pinched together slightly as he considered your question. He couldn’t go wrong with either. “I think I’d rather skip dinner and go right to dessert,” he answered, venturing over to the counter.

You watched as he carefully cut and plated a slice from both pies, your breath hitching when he licked some of the apple filling off his finger. He wasn't trying to seduce you at the moment, but it was working. “I don’t mind that at all,” you said as he went back to you, your fingers wrapping around his tie to have him close again. “And where would you like to have dessert?”

“In the living room,” he replied, running his free hand up and down your arm. “And there’s something else I want to try.”

“And what’s that?” You asked curiously.

“I want you to sit on my cock,” he began, bringing his hand back to your waist as you inhaled. It was always a good time for you when he wanted to play. “And I want to blindfold you.”

You whimpered, eager to give him what he wanted. Him robbing you of your sight as he stayed deep inside you would enhance everything else around you. Would his cock feel harder than usual? Would his hands and lips make you tremble more than normal?

“And you’re going to sit perfectly still while I have a slice of each pie,” he continued, his voice gruff as your breathing picked up.

“You want me to sit still while I keep you warm?” You questioned as he kissed your forehead with a smile.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he whispered, dragging his lips down to the tip of your nose. “You naked and blindfolded while my hands and mouth wander, letting me worship you as I eat those delicious pies you put so much care into.”

You made some sort of embarrassing sound at his words, wondering if was going to keep his suit on while you kept his cock warm. It was such a power move and one you loved exploring with him. While he was physically dominant over you, he was also verbally appreciative and tender. He loved you exactly the way you needed him to.

“Maybe I want to worship you, Andy,” you said. He deserved for you to love him the way he needed you to as well.

“Not tonight,” he said, a hint of dominance starting to seep in. There would be no arguing with him. “Not when I’m going to eat you out after I pump you full.”

Fuck.

“And what’ll happen if I don’t stay still?” You asked breathlessly, shivering when his mouth touched the corner of yours, his beard tickling your skin.

“You won’t come,” he replied, smirking when you took a step back and narrowed your eyes. “At least, not right away.”

“That's just mean, Mr. Barber,” you said with the smallest of pouts. He only edged you if there was a reason to do so. Though it wouldn't surprise you if he dragged it out for your self-deprecating comment earlier.

“I won't be mean tonight, but I will need you to be patient,” he said, nudging you toward the doorway. “Go to the living room and strip. I'll be there in a moment.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smirked as you said, “Yes, Sir.”

The smirk fell as you began to undress in front of the couch with shaky hands. Though the curtains were drawn, the light in the room was bright enough that you wouldn't have a chance to hide from Andy's stare. The thought had your heart racing faster because he cherished every part of you. Any imperfection to you was a thing of beauty to him.

“Fuck, you really do spoil me.”

The rich timbre of Andy's voice made your hands fall to your sides, the ache between your thighs stronger as he walked toward you. Your nipples hardened as his eyes swept over you, like he actually touched you. It was embarrassing how wet you were when he hadn't laid a finger on you yet. You didn’t even close your eyes until he moved close enough that his nose brushed against yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips almost touching yours before he set the pie down. “You ready to take a seat or should I check?”

“I think you should check,” you said, opening your eyes as you widened your stance.

His gaze moved lower as he cupped your pussy, his fingers brushing along your slit. You were patient, letting him tease you when what you wanted was for him to stab his fingers deep. Watching him bring his glistening fingers to his lips to taste you seconds later, it was a feat your knees didn’t buckle.

He didn’t beckon you any closer as he lowered his pants and underwear, his cock springing free. His gaze devoured you still as he took a seat, lightly stroking himself with a moan as you stood there waiting. Your mouth watered at the thought of dropping to your knees and swallowing him down. It was another way to keep him warm. But he was in charge and what he wanted was your pussy.

You wouldn’t deny him.

“Come here,” he urged, taking your hand to help you into his lap. He stroked your thigh with his other hand as you straddled him. “Take me in.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you stared into his eyes as you lined him up with your entrance. Prolonged eye contact was another thing Andy taught you to appreciate. Watching the swirl of emotions in his eyes as you began to sink down made your heart almost beat out of your chest. Both of you sighed as you continued to move down, not wanting to go too fast. It would hurt him if you got hurt.

“Good girl,” he praised as you took a moment to appreciate how good he felt. He removed the tie from around his neck when you tightened slightly around him. You almost forgot he planned to blindfold you. “You let me know if this is too much, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. You never had to use your safeword with Andy, but knew he’d stop right away if anything made you uncomfortable. Communication was everything to him. “I trust you.”

He paused, a raw expression on his face as he didn’t reply. You framed his cheeks, wordlessly telling him that he didn’t have to speak. Trust wasn’t something either of you gave easily. Something about him made it easy. Maybe it was how deep your love for him ran.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick as he covered your eyes with the tie. He didn’t make it too tight, but you couldn’t see a thing. “Now be good for me.”

You gasped when one of his hands closed over your breast, your back arching to get more of his touch. You had to bite your lip to hold in your moans when his mouth enclosed around your nipple, his tongue suckling the hardened bud. Your cunt throbbed as he switched, giving equal care to each side with his hand and mouth.

“So lucky to have you,” he rasped as he released your nipple, your breathing heavy as you heard the fork scrape along the plate. Your cunt throbbed when he moaned, the sound filthy and deep. “Have a taste.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose, but Andy didn’t bring the fork to your mouth. He kissed you instead, making you cling to him as you tasted the spices on his tongue. It was stronger than normal, the flavor exploding in your mouth. You practically saw colors dancing behind your eyelids, giving various shades to the sweet taste he shared with you.

“Sweet just like your cunt,” he growled, arousal pooling in your gut as he moved his lips down your neck. Your hands were free, but you felt completely at his mercy. Your pleasure was in his hands. “Doing so well. Just keep me warm while I eat.”

You were desperate for more, but you stayed as still as you could. He kept a hand on you as he took bites, between gently grabbing your ass or rubbing your thigh. His lips and tongue touched wherever they could reach, bringing little whimpers out of you. The one thing he didn’t touch was your clit, which was begging for attention.

How long would he tease you?

“Andy, please,” you whispered, almost shifting in his lap in the hopes to get some relief.

“Almost done, honey,” he assured you, drawing a soft cry from you when he suddenly thrust his hips up. “You need me to fuck you, is that it? Can’t wait until I’m finished eating the dessert you made just for me?”

His finger brushed your clit only once and it was almost enough to hurdle you over the edge. Each touch, every lavishness of his attention, was pure ecstasy. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

“Honey, this is making me feel good,” he said, rocking his hips again as your chest heaved. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his gaze was hungry. “Watching you like this, letting me touch you, praise you. Don’t you feel how fucking hard I am?”

“I do,” you exhaled. You felt every inch of him along your sensitive walls. “Feels good.”

He kissed your cheek, the scent of cinnamon filling your nostrils. “You feel good. So wet and tight and it’s all for me. So fucking lucky to come home to you. Love you so much, honey.”

The fabric of his tie felt damp and you realized it was your sudden tears causing that. Between his words and how sensitive your body felt, it was a lot in a good way. “I love you, too,” you whispered once you took a breath.

He dragged his mouth to your ear as he brought his finger back to your clit, rubbing gently as you both groaned. “You want me to feel even better? Show me how good I make you feel. Drench me and I’ll fuck you with my cock and tongue.”

“Please, please, please,” you begged, gripping his arms in an almost bruising hold, determined to give him what he demanded.

“Come.”

That was your undoing, the tide washing you away as you drenched him the way he demanded. He quieted your cries with his mouth, swallowing them down for himself. You whined as he stopped rubbing your clit, the spasms from your walls still strong as he whispered how much he loved you.

You loved him, too.

“Beautiful,” he commented as you came down, allowing you to collapse against him as you caught your breath. His heart raced against your chest, almost as fast as yours beat. Pleasuring you pleased him and you wondered how you hit the jackpot with him.

“The pumpkin was good,” he began, running a hand up and down your back. “But I think I prefer the apple pie. It’s sweet, like you.”

You laughed breathlessly, making your walls spasm a bit around him. “Noted,” you said, reaching for the blindfold.

He stopped you before you could remove it. “Leave it on. I’m not done worshiping you yet,” he said, shocking you by tracing a bit of whipped cream on your lips. “And if you want my cream, you'll behave.”

He deserves the world! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[hier--soir]

whole new can of worms

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, famous HOG joel miller lmao, age gap [20 years], language, alcohol consumption, established friendship, guitar playing joel!!, oral [f and m recieving], p in v sex, starts slow and careful and ends up rough oops. word count: 6.9k (nice) series masterlist | masterlist a/n: okay LOOK. i’m working on a final part to this little impromptu series, but I got very side-tracked with the idea of a prequel and then the most smut I’ve ever written just fucking spilled out of me. this is the first time they had sex, ladies and gentlemen. you get the beginning before you get the end. enjoy. also, this moment from tlou pt 2 game is what i was picturing for the beginning when joel is playing the song. dont watch if you don't want to, its from a cut scene very late in the second game. zero spoilers, just joel miller strumming that damn guitar in a way i'll never forget. this is part one of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: two, three, four.

“Play that one I like.”

Joel offered no verbal response, but sat up straighter in his chair, fingers adjusting along the fretboard of his guitar. You relaxed into your seat, closing your eyes and taking a long sip from your glass of amber liquor.

He began playing and you smiled happily, goosebumps breaking out across your skin as the familiar tune filled the air between you and your friend, melding with the sound of rain softly pattering against the roof of his veranda. You kicked your feet up onto the table between you, the tense muscles in your legs aching from the stretch.

“Get your feet off the table,” Joel muttered, fingers never ceasing on the instrument. “Animal.”

Your eyes stayed closed, but you stuck your tongue out in his direction, smirking a little and keeping your feet up, knowing he didn’t really mind.   

Both of you had endured a long fucking day.

Winter was fading into Spring, and the trees and plants in Jackson were slowly but surely beginning to bloom again. It meant you were spending more hours in the green house than out on patrol, and you weren’t complaining. Tending to the garden relaxed you, connected you to nature and to one of the food sources in the commune that helped put a little bit of food on everyone’s plate each week. Working there made you feel connected to the town, and you loved it, truly. Except, for when a thunderstorm happened.

They’d scared you for as long as you could remember. Since you were a kid, thunder and lightning had made you want to crawl under the covers on your bed and hide away until the loud noises disappeared. But as a full-grown woman, you weren’t afforded such luxuries. Rain, hail or shine, the people in Jackson depended on each other, and you couldn’t duck out of a shift because of a silly little phobia.

When the rain started pouring down on the glass roof of the greenhouse you hadn’t been surprised. Only a few weeks into springtime, the town was still shaking off the remnants of a bitterly cold winter, and a little rain was still common. It was only when the first crack of thunder sounded that you’d stilled, hands frozen gripping a heavy pot, an unwelcome shiver racing down your spine. You’d had to work for hours, the sound of rain pelting against the roof accompanying you, with flashes of lightning appearing out of the corner of your eye all day.

When all was said and done, you’d trudged through the downpour to Joel’s house and arrived on his doorstep looking like a drowned rat, only to find out that he’d spent his afternoon stuck outside on patrol, in the very weather you were so upset about.

He’d opened the door with damp hair, bundled in warm clothes, the tip of his nose a light shade of pink from the cold.

“Whiskey?” he’d asked.

You nodded. “Whiskey.”

And so the pair of you had ended up on his porch, under cover from the residual spit of rain, forgetting all about the shit day through good company and good alcohol.

As Joel strummed the last few chords of the song you sighed glumly, cracking an eye open to watch him. He set the guitar down gently and reached for his glass.

“So beautiful,” you murmured. “Wish I could play.”

“And then what use would I be?” he chuckled. “Can’t have you learning guitar; I’d have no one to play for anymore.”

You watched him closely. Staring into his glass, you could see him mulling the words over in his head. Ellie had hardly spoken a word to him in weeks, and you could see the toll it was taking, although you never pried. Clearly, something had happened, and although you and Joel were close, you hadn’t wanted to insert yourself into whatever drama had consumed his little found family. It made your chest hurt though, to watch him miss that girl. He’d always loved playing for her.

“Good thing I’m lazy then,” you mused softly. “Swear I couldn’t play an instrument with a gun to my head. I’ll need to keep you around.”

“Works for me,” he said, refilling both your glasses. “You on the patrol roster tomorrow?”

You shook your head, accepting the glass with a grateful smile. A slight buzz warmed your insides, fighting to keep your body temperature up as the cool breeze licked at your exposed hands and face. “Nope, I’m a free agent tomorrow, no responsibilities.”

“God damn,” he rolled his eyes. “Gonna be stuck out there all alone with Tommy.”

“Devastating,” you grinned. “I’m way better company.”

“Too right,” Joel agreed. “What’s your plan for the day, little miss no responsibilities? Still reading that book I found you?”

Probably masturbate. The thought zipped through your mind so suddenly that you felt your chest warm, and you cleared your throat softly.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Probably just read for a while. Dinner at Maria and Tommy's, remember?”

You hoped he didn’t see through the lie, because the truth was that you were embarrassed by yourself. Only a few days before you’d been struck by the realisation that you hadn’t had sex, or even been touched intimately by another person, in months. In fact, you noted sullenly, it had been half a fucking year. And you were struggling. It was your longest dry spell in a while, and every night lately you’d found yourself tangled up in your bed with your hand in your underwear, wishing desperately that someone, anyone, else was there with you.

Trying to ward off the unsavoury thoughts filling your mind, you took a deep gulp of whiskey and shut your eyes, contemplating asking if he had any cigarettes laying around.

Suddenly, a deep groan pierced the air between you and your eyes shot open. What the fuck?

With wide eyes, you saw that Joel was gripping his right leg tightly, thumb rubbing deep circles into the skin above his knee cap, and you forced yourself to relax. A sound of pain, you realised. But your heart had stuttered in your chest, because as out of character as it would’ve been, with your eyes closed it had sounded like a vaguely sexual noise. You rolled your eyes, willing yourself to get a grip. But it had been so long, and the sound of a man groaning in any way was enough to light a fire in your stomach.

“It’s the cold,” he noticed your stare. “Makes my knee ache.”

You nodded knowingly, eyes watching as his large hand gripped his thigh, applying pressure to the tender area.

“What’s up your ass?” Joel asked.

“Huh?” your gaze flashed up to meet his and found him watching you closely, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re frownin’,” he said. “Gone all quiet suddenly.”

“So are you,” you huffed defensively, face warming. “You always fucking frown, I can’t do it one time?”

“No,” he grinned cheekily, stilling rubbing his knee. “I frown enough for the both of us. You can figure somethin’ else out.”  

You let out a begrudging chuckle and felt the indent between your eyebrows relax.

“Seriously,” he pushed. “What’s wrong? Is it too cold? We should move inside.”

“No,” you cringed, scratching the side of your neck awkwardly. Lowering your legs off the table you sat up a little straighter in your chair. “It’s good out here, I like it. I’m just… distracted, I don’t know.”

“What’s on your mind?” he sipped his whiskey.

Without needing any more prompting, you gave up on beating around the bush. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

A choked sound escaped him, and he swallowed quickly, coughing into his elbow. “Christ, what?”

“I’m not,” your cheeks were on fire. “I’m not thinking about you having sex, relax. I was thinking about me having sex. Or not having sex, to be more precise.”

He coughed again, an awkward expression flashing across his face.

You and Joel had been friends for a few years now, since he and Ellie returned to Jackson and decided to settle in the commune. After being friends with Tommy for a few years before that, you’d fallen into a natural friendship with his older brother. It was no secret that there was 20 odd year age difference between you and Joel, but in a post-apocalyptic world, it had never phased either of you. Friends were friends, and an age gap didn’t impact much. But sex was a topic that had seldom come up in conversation over those few years. Here and there maybe, but never in detail, and never so candidly.

“I almost walked in on Shae and Petra fucking the other day,” you continued plainly. “She was late for patrol, so I went over to see if she’d slept in, and I could hear them from outside the fucking house. Stood there like an ass for a minute, just listening like a creep.”

Joel watched you closely, and you noticed his hand gripped his glass a little tighter, fingertips white from the pressure “You… listened?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” you cringed, rubbing a hand over your face shamefully. “Just for a fucking second. Hadn’t realised how long it had been, and it was like my feet wouldn’t move.”

“I see.”

“You better not tell a soul about this,” you pointed at him threateningly. “I’ll end you if anybody finds out, Miller. I swear.”

“I believe you,” he snorted, holding his hands up in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”

You relaxed a little, relieved to discover that he wasn’t going to be as awkward about it as you’d first feared.

“How long has it been?”

Your eyes ticked up to stare at him again. “Like, six months or something.”

Joel let out a low whistle and nodded slowly, sipping from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “You poor soul.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoffed in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re having sex and I’m not? This just keeps getting worse.”

“Fuck you,” he drawled mockingly, that deep Texan accent making you grin. “Would it be such a surprise if I was?”

“S’just bullshit,” you glowered, picking at your nails in frustration. Traces of soil still lined the creases in your palms and you rubbed at it furiously, in a fruitless attempt at cleaning them.  

“I’m not,” is all he said, and you frowned at him in confusion. “Havin’ sex,” he added with a smirk. "And it's been longer for me, so quit your whinin'."

You raised your eyebrows, appreciating the honesty. “Well thank god I’m not the only one.”

“Don’t know when I would,” he shrugged simply. “And who would I be having sex with, anyways? Spend all my fuckin’ time on patrol listening to Tommy talk for hours, or I’m sleepin’, or I’m with you.”

The thought itched so suddenly at the back of your brain, and you fought against it, shaking your head ever so slightly to push it away. Don’t think that. But it was persistent, and after a few moments of silence, your mind was filled with thoughts of you and Joel Miller fucking.

Admittedly, it was something you’d thought about once or twice when you’d first met him. He was a handsome guy, and his arrival in Jackson had definitely caused a stir among the women in the commune. But you’d fallen into a friendship so quickly, so comfortably, that the thought had never reared its ugly head again. Until now.

You watched him for a moment. His hair was dry at that point, and short messy curls framed his face and neck. He had neat dark facial hair, with sweet specks of ashy grey mixed in here and there. That familiar scar on the bridge of his nose. Lips that had gone a darker shade of pink from the cold, that you’d never realised looked quite so… plush. Eyes trailing down, your gaze raked over his hands. Long, calloused fingers that wrapped around almost the entirety of his glass. the warmth in your stomach spread downward, and you knew you should feel embarrassed at where your brain was taking you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Images flashed through your mind of his hands gripping you like that. Fingers leaving marks on your thighs, on your neck. You shivered, looking away quickly.

“Fuck,” you sighed quietly, not even caring if he heard.

“Hey,” he said softly, assuming you were upset. “Someone’ll come along. We could talk to Tommy about setting you up or somethin’.”

You hummed noncommittally and turned in your chair to face him head on. Joel noticed and adjusted his position to do the same, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that look?” he asked, eyebrows pinching together.

Jesus, here goes nothing.

“What if we fucked?”

Joel stared. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and he put his glass down on the table with a soft clink.

“What?” he said lowly, his voice taking on a sudden gravelly quality.

“I mean,” you searched desperately for the words to explain yourself, licking your lips nervously. “You said it yourself, we’re so busy, right? Always working, or sleeping, or we’re hanging out, you and me. So, what if we just… blew off a little steam together?”

His eyebrows had raised so dramatically you thought they might disappear into his hairline. It wasn’t often you managed to shock Joel, and you laughed gently at the astounded expression that decorated his face.  

“You want to blow off steam… with me?” he pointed lamely at his chest.

“Don’t sound so incredulous,” you joked. “You’re a catch, Joel. You know the teens call you a HOG, right? Hot old guy.“

“Shut up,” he held up a hand to silence you, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as you laughed at his embarrassment. “Don’t want to hear that shit.”

“It wouldn’t mean anything, Joel,” you reassured, veering back on topic. “We could just… help each other wind down after a long day.”

You watched each other in silence for a moment, and you noticed him shuffle slightly in his seat, hand gripping his knee once again. For a minute, you worried that you’d upset him. The friendship you two shared was strong, and you always known you could confide almost anything in him. He was trustworthy, and valued your word above so many others. But maybe this was over the line.

As you were about to speak again, about to take it all back and apologise for even suggesting it, he finally opened his mouth.

“It wouldn’t mean anything?” he clarified. “This won’t affect our friendship.”

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing at all. No strings, bud. Final offer.”

With a deep, rumbling sigh, Joel snatched his glass off the table and downed the remainder of its contents before standing up. “Alright then.”   

You’d been in Joel’s room a hundred times over the years. Hauling him out of bed for patrol after he’d accidentally slept in, or rifling through his chest of drawers to steal a thick pair of socks. But never for this reason. The pair of you stood awkwardly at the foot of his bed, staring at everything other than each other, as the air crackled with palpable tension.

Joel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you smirked, unfamiliar with seeing him being unsure of himself.

“If you don’t want to, we can just forget I ever sai-“

“Just taking your fuckin’ clothes off,” he grunted, staring you down suddenly. Wide eyed, you felt a rush of heat through your thighs.

“Jesus,” you breathed. “Romance isn’t dead.”

He huffed out a laugh and your shoulders relaxed, happy to see a crack through his tense façade. Your tugged off your sweater, and then your shirt, tossing them over the chair in the corner of his room. Working quickly, you undid the zipper on your pants and pulled them down your legs until you were left in your underwear, a thin white singlet, and your socks.

You reminded yourself that Joel had already seen you naked, thinking back on a time when the two of you had gone skinny dipping in a lake you stumbled across on patrol the summer before. But this was so different. This wasn’t a random moment of spontaneity. And at the lake he'd been a gentleman, averting his eyes for the most part out of politeness, but now? Now he was watching your every move.

Silently, he undid the strap off his watch and placed it on the top of his dresser, before working to undo the buttons on his shirt. After he had tugged it off, you let your eyes trail over his exposed skin, and with no fabric covering him, you could see how quickly his chest rose and fell.

“Hey,” you said quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. You felt his heart race under the warm skin and smiled. “It’s just me. Let me help you relax, okay?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t dwell on it though, and leaned forward to drag your lips across the skin of his neck. He smelt like rain and pine needles, and you inhaled deeply, pressing soft kisses along his pulse point. One of his hands landed heavily on your waist and his thumb begun rubbing encouraging circles over your hip bone. You hummed against his skin, pressing your chest against his. Exposed to the cool temperature, your nipples pebbled underneath your shirt, and from his exhale you knew he could feel them pressing against his bare chest.

With a slight tremor in your hand, you trailed your fingers down his chest. Through the soft hair smattered there, over the thick jagged scar on his stomach, to his belt buckle. Joel shivered lightly, gripping your waist a little tighter. You worked quickly to undo his belt, and then you dragged his zipper down. With a low sigh, you rested your hand over the front of his pants. He jolted slightly, hand sliding around your back to hold you tighter to his chest. With your face hidden in his neck, you couldn’t see his reaction, but you took the firm pressure of his hand on your back as a clear sign to continue. You palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm. A surge of confidence rushed through you, and you stepped away, letting your hand fall away from him. His arm dropped from your back to his side, and he watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him.

You gripped the waistband of his pants and started to drag them down his legs, helping him step out of them. Wearing nothing but a tight pair of briefs, it was impossible not to stare. You could see the shape of him through the dark fabric, your mouth salivated. More, you needed to see more. Without wasting a second, you tucked your fingers into the band of them and pulled them down slowly, giving him the chance to stop you if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He watched you with hooded dark eyes, chest moving with deep controlled breaths, his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. With his underwear gone, Joel’s cock finally came into your sight. He was only half hard, you realised with awe, and your stomach tingled as you realised what you were in for. Reaching out, your traced your fingers slowly over his hip bones, smiling as goosebumps broke out across his skin, before gently wrapping your fingers around him.

A shaky breath escaped from his nose.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, hand stroking softly along his length. He nodded jerkily. “Why don’t you sit on the bed?”

Joel dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed, and you moved forward to rest on your knees in between his parted legs, placing your hand back over him. The air in the room had turned humid, and you could feel sweat forming on your back out of anticipation. The only light source came from the moon shining in his window, bathing the both of you in a pale light.

“You’re so handsome,” you sighed wistfully, gripping him tighter. “I’ve always known it, but seeing you like this is different. So handsome, Joel.”

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping your skin and massaging the knotted muscle at the top of your back. You groaned appreciatively, and without another moment’s hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his thigh. No more fucking around. You needed him.

Your hand stroked him firmer, tighter, but your mouth was salivating, desperate to taste him. So you dragged wet kisses along his leg until you reached his abdomen, and then you brought your wet mouth to hover over his cock. You heard his breath hitch and smiled devilishly, staring greedily at his ruddy tip, marvelling as a drop of precum leaked out of him. Painfully slow, you pushed forward and pressed a kiss to it, tongue darting out to swipe along him and taste his salt. Joel hissed in surprise, gripping your shoulder tighter as his other hand moved to the back of your head. Not putting any pressure there, just holding you. Lathing your tongue over his head, you moaned lowly at the taste of him. Salty and warm and masculine. You could feel your underwear sticking uncomfortably against you from how wet you were. Closing your eyes, you cupped his balls gently and pressed wet kisses down his length, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein that ran from base to tip, and basking in the short gasps that flew out of his mouth.

“Stop teasin’,” he grumbled, and you looked up with a smirk to see his dark eyes glaring down at you.

“Sorry,” you lied, before taking his head into your warm mouth and sucking gently. Slowly, you pressed forward, taking more of him in. You felt him swell against your tongue, getting harder from the stimulation, and you hummed around him. He was so big. Maybe bigger than anyone you’d been with, and you struggled to take it all. He was so thick and heavy in your mouth, it was all you could think about. Consuming every thought, every feeling; all you could focus on was the weight of him on your tongue. You worked on creating a rhythm, bobbing your head and taking as much of him in your mouth as you could, while your hand gripped him at the base, stroking him at the same time.

And finally, finally, he made a sound.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, drawing out the vowel as a heavy breath he’d been holding escaped his lungs. His fingers dragged through your hair roughly, gripping the back of your head. You pushed yourself forward, taking more of him in until he was pressing into your throat, and you swallowed tightly around him. “Christ, feels so fuckin’ good.”

Seemingly against his will, Joel’s hips bucked upward off the bed and you gagged around him, tears springing into your eyes. He moaned lowly, cursing under his breath at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. Unable to help yourself, you removed your hand from him and lowered it down your body, slipping your fingers underneath the band of your underwear and dipping into the wet heat between your own legs. Breathing harshly through your nose, you moaned around him as your finger brushed your aching clit. You pulled back and worked your tongue over his weeping slit, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightened as you paid close attention to the most sensitive part of him.

“You’re drivin’ me insane,” he ground out, and you glanced up to see him watching you reverently, eyes wide and glossy, cheeks flushed. “So fuckin’ hot. God, you have the prettiest mouth, how did I never notice that? Never fuckin’ thought about how good my cock would look between your lips until it was happening. I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

Your cunt pulsed against your fingers and you whimpered, taking him back in your mouth as far as you could. God, the way he spoke made you fucking ache for him. after so many years of knowing him, hearing his voice every day, you’d never have imagined him saying things like that to you. But the weight of him in your mouth was delicious, and his words only spurred you to push forward, forward, forward, revelling in the way he groaned as your nose brushed the dark curls at his base. Tears leaked out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks from the effort, but you didn’t stop. You slid a finger inside yourself and gagged around him again, eyes rolling back in your head at the intoxicating sensation of having something inside both your mouth and your pussy.

“Takin’ me so well,” his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tears. “God, I’m in your fuckin’ throat, baby.” The pet name made your stomach tighten, and you moaned as more slick formed around your fingers.  

“Shit,” he choked out suddenly, losing all composure. “Are you fucki-“

You moaned, eyebrows furrowing as you fucked your hand and bobbed your mouth up and down quicker over his length.

“Stop,” he ordered, saying your name firmly. “I- Stop, I’m gonna come.” You ignored him, making a high-pitched sound around him as you felt the hot coil in your stomach begin to tighten. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and he pulled you off him.

You blinked lazily up at him, eyebrows furrowed dejectedly, lips parted. A string of saliva hung in the air between your bottom lip and his tip. You dragged your fingers out of your underwear, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“Jesus, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” he groaned and broke eye contact, gripping your shoulder to pull you up off the floor. “Get up.”

Pushing gently on your shoulders, he nudged you forward onto the bed, and you crawled up before collapsing with your heads against the pillows. His bed was softer than you’d anticipated, and everything smelt like him. The pillows, the duvet. God, even if this was a one-time thing, you’d never forget that smell. He followed you, settling with his legs in between yours, and placed his palms on your stomach, pushing the thin material of your shirt up and over your breasts until it was bunched around your collarbones. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest, and you were aching for him, begging him with your eyes to just please, do something, anything.

And Joel was on you before you could speak, his fingers tracing and over your nipples, squeezing the weight of your breast in his palm before latching his lips onto you. He sucked your painfully tight nipple into his mouth, tongue lazily swiping across it, driving you insane. You sighed heavily, running a hand over the skin of his back and holding him to you. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin ever so lightly and your back arched off the bed. Moving over, he shifted his ministrations to your other breast, his eyes closed as he wet your skin with his slick mouth. And then one of his hands was drifting down your stomach, tickling over your skin, under it met your underwear, and he was cupping you through the fabric. Your hips stuttered upward, and he groaned into your chest, trailing his fingers over the soaked material.

“So fuckin’ wet already,” he muttered into your skin, and you nodded franticly against the pillows. “Did you get this turned on just from havin’ my cock in your mouth? Had to touch yourself?” Surprise zapped through you once more, ecstatic to learn just how much he loved to talk during sex. It was one of your favourite things, and it had always killed you to have sex with someone who was just silent the whole time.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Wanted you to finish in my mouth.”

He bit down onto your chest in response and you cried out quietly, eyes rolling back as he sucked a mark onto your skin with his fingers continued tracing feather light over your covered core.

“Maybe later,” his voice was strained. “Need to see you come first.”

He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, and then he was touching you with no barrier, and you trembled beneath him. You’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone else’s hands on you.

Joel groaned as he dipped his middle finger between your warm folds, gliding it up and down along your core, getting it covered in your slick. He swirled the tip of his finger around your entrance and you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his hand. But he didn’t go inside you. His finger moved back up, all the way up, and swiped gently over your clit and you let out a pathetic moan. Such a small, miniscule touch had your stomach tensing painfully, ridiculously close to orgasm after so much time.

Bringing his face up to rest beside yours, he sucked your earlobe into his mouth gently, before murmuring in your ear, “I want to taste you.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned by the feeling of his fingers against you, until he probed you for a response, purring your name into your ear.

“Need to hear you say it,” he encouraged. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please,” you begged, eyes shut tightly as he rubbed soft circles around your bundle of nerves. “I want you to taste me.” A grunt of frustration left your mouth as his hand disappeared and you opened your eyes to glare at him, but your mouth fell open, awestruck, when you saw him raise his soaked digits to his lips.

“Like this?” he goaded, sucking your slick off himself and groaning.

“Please,” you repeated, mouth dry as you watched him hum around his middle finger. “Need your mouth on me, your tongue, I-“

“Okay,” he soothed, moving down the bed in an instant. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

He spread your legs apart, fingers splayed as he held your thighs against the bed, displaying your weeping centre for him to see. A deep sound echoed though the room, and it took you a moment to realise it had been Joel. His dark eyes stared at the spot between your legs, and he dragged his fingers through the coarse hair that covered you.

His movements were torturously slow as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses on your hips, along the inside of your thighs, until finally his hot breaths were fanning across your core. You clenched around nothing, whimpering at how empty you felt but knowing it would have to wait.

It was like stepping into a warm bath. The second his tongue was on you, fire raced through your veins, warming your body from head to toe. A sound of relief slipped from your lips, and your eyes rolled back as he licked a broad stripe up the entire length of you. A raspy groan vibrated against you as he pressed a messy kiss against your pussy. You looked down and gasped at the sight of his eyes already on you, watching you and your reactions to him.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he drawled against you and you twitched at the sensation of his lips brushing against your clit. His thumbs pressed against your folds, holding you open for him to see everything, and he lathed his warm tongue against your clit, circling it until you were moaning and tensing your thighs against his hold, muscles screaming at you to press against his head and hold him to you.

You whispered his name over and over as if it were a prayer. As if you’d forgotten all other words in the English language and his name was your only salvation. His tongue dipped inside your entrance, prodding firmly until you whimpered and begged him to please, please, let you come.

He ate you out like a man possessed. Like you were his last meal and he intended to savour every god damn second of the experience. He was ravenous, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in your body tighten until you were gasping. At some point your hand had drifted behind his head and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling it tightly as his mouth moved against you.

“Joel,” you groaned. He hummed against you, movements never ceasing. “Oh fuck, Joel, I’m gonna come.”

His eager moan into your cunt was all it took for you to be catapulted over the precipice and drop into your orgasm. Your body was on fire, vibrating against him as you trembled through it, moans and cries leaving your mouth as your way of thanking him. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, and there would no doubt be marks there tomorrow to remind you were his fingertips had dug into your skin. As your body relaxed into the mattress again, he pressed a final kiss to your clit before pulling back and dragging his face across your thigh, wiping the remnants of your slick off his facial hair.

“Fuck,” he rasped, grinning up at you with glistening lips.

“So good,” you agreed, nodding as you tried to catch your breath.  

“Almost came all over the sheets,” he admitted and you laughed, beckoning him towards you. He stumbled a bit, one of his knees buckling below him on the bed, leading him to land awkwardly on top of you.  

“Shit,” he groused. “Sorry, bad fuckin’ knee. You’ve got me all bent out of shape.”

You chuckled lowly, pulling him up to lay beside you on the bed. “Let’s not put anymore pressure of them then, okay?” He watched you carefully, curiously, as you turned on your side and then moved backwards, pressing yourself flush against his chest.

His cock pulsed against your ass, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed on your stomach to hold you against him as he rutted forward. The feeling of his wet tip dragging along your skin reignited the fire in you and you whimpered, lifting your leg only to push it back and drape it over his waist as much as you could.

“You want it like this?” he asked urgently, hot breaths fanning across your sweaty neck. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on it gently.

You nodded, and waited as he pushed his body a little lower on the bed. His hand disappeared from your chest, and you allowed yourself to pout a little, only because you knew he couldn’t see your face. And then his left arm slithered underneath your shoulder and wrapped loosely your neck, gripping your opposite arm to pin you against him. His free hand gripped his cock and pushed it forward until he was sliding his head between your folds.

Both of you sighed at the sensation and you gripped his arm in anticipation. You could feel his torso moving against your back as he breathed, the soft hair on his chest tickling your skin.

“You ready?” he asked and you grunted, pushing back against him again.

“Joel,” you said in a dangerously low tone. “If you’ve ever cared about me, you will stop teasing and fuck me right now.”  

He laughed darkly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

He notched his tip at your entrance and you gasped as he pressed forward, pressing himself inside of you. It took what felt like minutes for him to bottom out, and when you felt his hips pressing against your ass, you tried to relax. The burn was intense, and you cursed yourself for not anticipating a little bit of pain after such a long dry spell. Joel held still, fingers stroking carefully over the skin of your shoulder, understanding that you needed a second.

“Fuck,” you choked out. “Joel, you’re huge.”  

He let out a gravelly sound into the back of your neck, body shuddering against yours. “You’re takin’ it so well though,” he gritted out. “So tight around me, grippin’ me so good.”   

He pulled back a touch before pressing back into you, and you moaned deeply. That was all the confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of you before moving into you harder, stronger, and beginning a steady pace. Your body jolted forward with every one of his movements, but his arm around your neck held you firmly, never allowing you to go too far.

Curses drifted from your mouth, and you hid your face in his arm, biting down on the muscle of his bicep to stifle your sounds. You clenched around him suddenly and his hips stuttered forward, slamming into you in a way that made your stomach tense deliciously. He was so fucking deep, the angle allowing him to glide against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuckin’,” he moaned. “You’re so good, bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you darlin’?”

You writhed in his arms, accepting the brutal pace he’d set. His skin connected with yours over and over, a satisfying smack, smack, smack sound filling the air.

“J-Joel,” you sobbed. “Oh my fucking god, I-“ He cut you off, gripping your chin and swiftly tugging your face upward so he could see you, and then his mouth was crashing down on yours. He groaned into your mouth, tongue pressing against your lips to part them and then tangling against yours. His lips were soft and wet and you didn’t even care about the odd angle your neck was twisted at as you moaned into it. His thrusts didn’t let up for a second, even as you murmured desperate sounds against each other’s lips.  

“C’mon,” he grunted into your mouth. “Give me another one.” His hand dropped to grip your neck, the sensation only heightening the feeling of him inside you. Liquid heat was spreading in your abdomen, curling through your veins, turning your entire body into jelly. His free hand drifted down your stomach and then his middle finger was dragging across your clit, and a harsh cry spilled from your mouth.

“Shit,” you gasped, face contorting as you felt yourself near your end. He was fucking everywhere, holding you against him by your neck, pounding into you while his fingers circled your clit roughly, and the coil in your stomach just snapped. You yelled his name, body tensing up as he pushed into you, wet squelching sounds filling the air as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Say my name,” his voice urged in your ear, and you happily obliged, chanting his name like a mantra as he worked your body through it. Within a minute he was groaning frantically, and then he pulled out, and you could feel his come coating your back as he finished. You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His mouth was ajar, soft curses falling from his lips as he gripped his cock, angling it towards you as he painted your skin with his spend.

“Sorry,” he rushed out breathlessly, wide eyes meeting yours. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his orgasm, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and you smiled at the sight. But he looked concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you warily.

“For what?” you frowned softly, rolling forward onto your stomach to free his arm that was trapped underneath you. “What’s wrong?”

“Came on you,” he clarified. “Should’ve asked first.”

A grin split across your face and his eyes lit up when he saw it, face relaxing again. “Ever the gentleman,” you chuckled. “It’s fine Joel, it was hot.”

His body relaxed and he dropped down to rest on his back, looking at you with a soft, curious expression. “It was,” he agreed quietly.

For a moment the pair of you just laid there, gazing at each other in a moment of wonder, before you suddenly became aware of how much colder the room was now that it was over. You shivered slightly, lifting to sit on your knees. Joel’s eyes trailed over your exposed body, gazing at your breasts, and your stomach, before resting on your face again.

“I’m gonna shower, and then hit the road,” you told him, cringing at the prominent ache between your thighs as you stepped off the bed. You picked your clothes up off the chair in the corner and turned back to look at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night right, dinner at Maria and Tommy’s?”

He was watching you in a daze, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Dinner at Maria and Tommy’s.” His eyes suddenly widened and he rolled over, reaching underneath his pillow before revealing a piece of small dark fabric. Your underwear. He held them out in your direction.

“Keep them big guy,” you winked, and he laughed deeply, dropping them back onto the bed.

You padded towards the door, ready to pop into the bathroom and then head home, before a thought struck you. Resting your shoulder against the doorway you looked at him again, smiling at the sight of him lying naked and fucked out on the bed, eyes closed as he breathed deeply. He looked about as relieved as you felt.

“Hey Joel,” you said quietly, and his eyes flashed open, raising an eyebrow at you. “Between us, right? Probably best if we don’t tell anyone else this happened.”

He nodded once, smiling lazily. “Between us.”

part two

[luveline]

can we possibly get the one where Gideon doesn’t like bombshell reader and poor Spencer is watching like☹️

Spencer feels a little like a child of divorce. Like, he absolutely is a child of divorce, but he didn’t think he’d feel this way at work. Lately, all Hotch and Gideon do is argue. 

It’s especially odd in that Hotch doesn’t usually go against Gideon’s judgement, even when he doesn’t agree, but you seem to be something Hotch is willing to fight for, and Spencer has no idea why.

“We don’t need her,” Gideon says. Spencer knows it isn’t Gideon being cruel, just stern. “We have a fine team without her.” 

“But with her, we’re better. And we have an opening. I know you like Greenaway for it, and I do too–”

“Everyone likes Greenaway for the position, she’s more palatable than L/N, and she works harder.”

Spencer tries not to whip his face back and forth like he’s following a ping pong ball, but it’s hard to keep up. He has no idea what his mentor’s talking about in all honesty, you’d seemed more than palatable when you met him last week. You were nice. And barely anybody is nice to Spencer. 

You sounded like you actually wanted to hear him talk, something Gideon has often been alone in. And palatable is a subjective word. 

“That’s not necessarily true,” Hotch says, knowing he’s losing. 

“We’re not gonna rush into picking someone,” Gideon says, less stern, more neutral. 

“No. I have invited her to the Georgia consultation this afternoon.” 

Gideon sighs through his nose. The afternoon rolls around quickly. Spencer doesn’t want to think about it but he’s excited to see you, and he feels conflicted in that; Gideon is the first person in a long time who actually seems to care about him, so Spencer is guilty of always aiming to please, but he can’t understand why Gideon dislikes you so much. Am I being easily led? he wonders. 

He’ll admit to finding you attractive. In his head, that is. You’d spoken so particularly, you’d looked stunning, and you didn’t make a fuss when he wouldn’t shake your hand. You called him beautiful. 

It’s the nicest, kindest attention he’s had since he started. Morgan calls him pretty boy. Spencer knows it’s not the same thing. 

They gather in the conference room, Morgan, Hotch, Gideon and Spencer, just a few minutes before 2PM. A minute later, you’re knocking on the door. 

“Hello…” You smile when you realise they’re here. “Am I late?” 

“No, L/N. Come and take a seat,” Hotch says. 

There’s a plastering of documents on the table and an empty seat by both Morgan and Spencer. You choose the one beside Spencer despite a stack of manilla folders, tucking your chair in neatly. “Oh, the grizzly stuff. This will upset my feminine energy.” 

Morgan laughs. Gideon glares at the table. 

Spencer likes it when you’re around. One more person and suddenly the consultation is a conversation and not a debate. You can keep up with everyone. You laugh at Spencer occasionally and he doesn’t know why, but he can tell it isn’t cruel laughter; he’s had a long time to work out the difference. 

Gideon excuses himself for a coffee half an hour in. 

Hotch immediately leans across the table. “I’m trying to help you,” he says. 

You grimace. “What am I doing wrong now?” 

“The laughing.” 

“You laugh.” 

“I know.” Hotch smiles at you. “You’re getting good at this, you have good insight on the dark triad. You read the book I sent?” 

“How’s Haley?” you ask.

He shakes his head, but his smile stays. “Don’t joke about that.” 

You’re not flirting. Or, Spencer doesn’t think so. It’s more likely you’re joking as Hotch says, everything about your body language pointing to amicable friendliness besides your flirting tones. “I read the book,” you say. Your gaze turns to Spencer. “Bet you’ve read it too, huh? Morgan said you’ve read every book ever written.” 

“That’s an exaggeration,” Spencer says. 

“But close?” you ask. “I’d love some recommendations. You know. For profiling.” 

“Don’t let her fool you, Reid, she’s well read,” Morgan says. 

“Wait, Gideon doesn’t like you because you laugh?” Spencer asks. 

It’s a socially inept thing to say, he realises after. You lean back in your chair all sweet and soft with your legs crossed, your dark stockings thin at the knees. He’s so, so worried you’re going to be offended and that’s exactly what he needs, a possible friend isolated again by his inability to read the room, but you don’t chew him out. You nudge his leg gently with the toe of your heel. 

“Now who said he doesn’t like me, handsome?” you ask teasingly. 

Spencer regrets the heat that floods his face and neck. 

“It’s complicated,” you add, your smile more than friendly, Spencer can’t work it out. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn him around eventually. It’s one of my many talents.” 

Oh, he thinks. That’s what it is. Spencer’s finally in on the joke.