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sunflowersteves · 1 year

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come and get your love || j.m.

chapter one of ain’t no sunshine

pairing || joel miller x f!sunshine!reader

summary || someone across the Tipsy Bison had their hand on you all night. how long will Joel Miller take to do something about it?

author's note || first part of the series! all of the chapters can be read as a stand alone, but they do go in order of a time line. hope you all enjoy <3 4.1k words

warnings || jealousy, insecurities, angst, toxic people, possessiveness, fluff, 10 year age gap (joel is 51), SMUT, praise kink, oral sex (f rec), cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, [18+ only]

series masterlist || masterlist

Hail, with it, baby, 'cause you're fine And you're mine, and you look so divine

Joel’s eyes lingered on your form from across the bustling bar. It was in the middle of a Wyoming summer, so you wore a pretty light blue sundress. You could feel the cool breeze brush up against your thighs and the sun beating down on your skin just from the dusty windows.

You came home one day, telling Joel and Ellie that you traded some old tactical pants for the frilly dress. Joel choked on his morning coffee when he caught a glimpse—Ellie just laughed and laughed. And now, you looked unbelievably perfect, all while you fluttered around the chairs and tables in the Tipsy Bison, talking with friends and newcomers.

Although, his soft, love-sick eyes started to harden as they continued to follow you.

The mere sight of someone flirting with you—a shoulder leaning on a support pole with sparkling eyes—was going to send his old bones into a coma. He was sure of it. Joel's chest started to burn from a sizzling rage that crept up to his cheeks.

You were as friendly as you could be with a beer in your hand and a laugh escaping your lips. He knew you were oblivious to the flirting. You always have been.

A couple of years ago, along the endless roads of traveling to get Ellie where she needed to go, Joel had been trying to get your attention for weeks, despite his damn self-sabotage that forced himself to avoid you in the previous months before. Ellie saw through it, though. Tommy saw it too. Hell, even Tess saw through it. The one person who had not seen just how much Joel was infatuated and hopelessly in love with you was, well, you.

He thought that it was because he was rough and unrestrained. Joel was a jagged edge of a rock that cut deep into anyone that came near him. He thought you might not want to be with him and all of his baggage.

You were the exact polar opposite of him. You were a ray of sunshine—a burst of fresh air that knocked the breath out of his lungs. You could handle yourself out there in the depths of survival. He did not doubt that, but you were still warmhearted and sweet. You were what the rest of the world seemed to have forgotten.

Turns out, though, he couldn't have been more wrong.

Your mind and body were washed over with every essence of Joel. When his hand was on your back to gently guide you through rugged terrain or when you instinctively grabbed onto his upper arm when a lone stranger bumped into your third-person party—your mind becomes blank.

The only thing, you said when you finally confessed, you could think about was Joel. Your body would freeze, and time would slow, your heart the only exception as it beats so rapidly you thought it might burst. So, in the end, Joel finds himself elated with pride and pure adoration that he was able to make you feel so free—so full of love.

“Are you gonna do something? Or are you just going to sit here and be ‘old-man’ sad?”

Joel snapped out of his daze, turning his head toward Ellie. She had her eyebrow raised, with a hand on a freshly opened beer bottle.

“Gimme that.” He muttered under his breath and swiped the bottle away from her. She let out a small, “Hey! You dick!” before huffing in frustration. “You ain’t even eighteen yet.” He slid the bottle over to Maria, who nodded back to Joel. “I’m almost eighteen!”

He huffed, ignoring Ellie’s comment. “And no. She’s got it handled.”

You were probably the friendliest, kindest person that Ellie had ever met—especially in this shitty, fucked up world. Along the dusty gravel roads of travel, you would hold her hand and swing back and forth as Joel trailed not far behind. At night, you would shuffle your sleeping bag closer to hers, so you could laugh and giggle at her pun book until falling into a distant slumber. In the mornings, when you and Joel were keeping watch, and a lone stranger would interrupt your three-person party, you jumped in front of Ellie and pointed your shotgun at the intruder. You turned quickly, if not instantly, into a mother figure for her.

So, Ellie knows that you have got it far from handled. She knows you are completely unsuspecting of the person that was practically throwing himself on top of you.

“Yeah, you are so full of shit.”

Now, in your defense of the flirting, everyone in Jackson knew not to make a move on you. It has been established from the very beginning that you and Joel are made for each other. All you could ever see was each other. Always.

So, at the end of things, when someone walked up to you with a bright smile and a gleam in their eyes that screamed “please fuck me,” you didn’t think anything of it. Your mind was no doubt in a Joel Miller trance—thoughts rolling over one another about the plains of his skin and the gruff feeling of his patchy beard on your fingertips. But when a newcomer comes along in the commune and gets introduced to everybody, that’s when they try to make their mark on you.

“She’s fine—”

“You sure, Joel?” His eyes flickered back towards you and saw the newcomer squeeze your forearm. You think nothing of it and crack another joke at who you thought was a new friend, causing them to throw their head back in very exaggerated laughter.

And now, Joel wasn’t sure at all—not with the bubbled-up feeling that wrapped around his chest and sunk down into his stomach. He grunted out in response to Ellie, who rolled her eyes at his demeanor. Yeah, he was far from sure.

“Go say something, Grandpa—”

He raised his eyebrow, “hey—”

“Ellie’s right, you know.” Joel’s head whipped around at Tommy’s voice. “She doesn’t even know the guy’s flirting. She’s too trustin’ of people.”

He gave his older brother a little smile—an all too knowing teasing smile. Joel didn��t say anything, just downing the rest of his whiskey. The ice clunked against the glass, and the two next to him just watched with anticipation.

“Your brooding is scaring the customers away. Go say somethin’, Joel.”

He ponders for just a moment—mind circling around all of the different thoughts in his brain. He knows you are just fine. He knows you wouldn’t ever do anything of the sort.

If you actually knew that the man was flirting with you, you would stop it immediately. You’re just kind. You just wanted to make friends. He wanted you to make friends in this little town you had learned to love.

Before Joel even knows it, though, he's getting up from the stool. His own heart had taken over his body and ran home with it. He could just barely hear Ellie cheer for the old man to do something.

His boots were heavy as he walked across the bar, his wrinkled eyes hardening with every step. His heart squeezed at the pure sight of you—a smile almost turning his frown up. That is until the squeezing of his other thoughts from the man right in front of you suffocated his chest.

“Joel!”

God, you sounded so sweet. Your eyes lit up so bright he thought he might be blinded. Whatever you were talking about with your new friend, it completely went out the window when you heard the stomps of his boots.

“Hi, darlin’.”

His hand ghosted the small of your back, and it almost caused you to shiver. You looked up at him with a pretty smile, opening your mouth to let him in on the conversation. “We were just talking about patrols. I was saying how we saw that bear with the three cubs the other day! and—”

“Can we help you?” The man, you knew as Brad, scowled right up at Joel for interrupting the conversation the two of you were having earlier. Oh, Joel did not like Brad. The scrunch of his nose as he tried to challenge Joel—as if you were a possession—was kicking up a deep rage in his chest.

Joel opened his mouth to respond but was met with a very enthusiastic smile from you. You looked so excited. “This is Joel! He’s my—”

Brad rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s great. Could he leave now?”

Joel’s back stretched at the complete disrespect. He could handle people being mean to him just fine. When it comes to you, however, he wouldn’t tolerate anything of the sort. You were the thread that kept Ellie and Joel sane with your homemade gifts and fluttering smile. No one was going to ruin that on his watch.

Joel watched as your bright, smiling face fell.

“Oh.”

You felt your heart deflate from being interrupted again. It took a lot for someone to build you down, and Brad had managed to do it in no time. You thought you had made a new friend to hang out with. You thought you were finally getting along with someone in Jackson.

Watching your face fall made something click in Joel’s head. His burning glare never left Brad’s face as he continued to run his mouth about Joel ‘needing to leave’ or something like that. This is why he hated newcomers. They think they could take advantage of your kind gestures and bring you down with them.

Brad looked at you and then Joel—as if something finally fits in his head. He clicked his tongue, “I have been trying to get you home all night. Don’t tell me you were with him the whole time?”

“What?”

You looked bewildered at the insinuation of ever getting with Brad—let alone anyone that isn’t Joel. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

If Joel wasn’t preoccupied with watching Bradley’s every move, he would’ve snorted at your change in demeanor. You could be the biggest angel there is, but there is no doubt a fire lit right inside of you.

“I have been here with you all fucking night. You think I’d waste my time talking about shitty flowers with you?” His lips curled into a sniveling smirk.

Your hand clenched by your side but was caught as Brad’s hand went to tighten itself around your wrist. You tried to wriggle your way out of his grip, but it felt too firm. “Why don’t you ditch the old man and come with me, sunshine.”

Joel saw the hand on your wrist—the bruising grip he had on you. He saw the sickly, lust-filled eyes that the man was giving you. He knew you could handle yourself. You could throw this random man over your shoulder like he was nothing.

But something struck him even deeper.

Sunshine.

That was what Joel called you in the secret comfort of whispered feelings. It was what Joel called you when you were badly injured, and he needed to disinfect the wound. The first time it popped into his head was when you were dancing around with Ellie underneath the morning sun. The cute nickname just stuck, and it was his.

Only his.

Joel snapped in an instant. The long years of survival worked quickly in his brain. He bunched up Brad’s collar and shoved him hard against the wooden pole—jolting his hand from your wrist. “Get your fucking hands off of her.”

You gasped at the lightning speed of Joel’s hand on Brad’s chest, but you weren’t too phased. Adrenaline shot through your chest and spread down to your toes—eyes locking on Joel’s crinkled brows and hard-set glare.

“Yeah? The fuck you gonna do?” Brad spat.

The bar went silent at the altercation, eyes darting to watch the scene play out. You didn’t pay any attention, though. Your eyes were on Joel. Just Joel.

Brad squirms a bit underneath Joel’s stare, but he seems to be trying to remain tough. Joel’s grip never wavered and almost shoved him further into the pole.

“If you ever touch her again, I’ll break your fuckin’ arms.” His accent slurred together with each click of his tongue.

You could feel the fire pulsating through his lips; you could feel it radiate off of his clenched fist. Joel squeezed even tighter against his neck, almost suffocating some of the air in Brad’s throat. He then let out a wheeze, eyes widening at just how serious Joel Miller can be.

“You got it?” Brad’s eyes squinted at Joel before looking into the crowd around him. Terrified of all the stares and the overwhelming frown on people’s faces—and quite frankly, Joel—Brad finally backs off.

“Got it.” He said under his breath with a slight cough. Joel very slowly let go of his collar in caution of the man. Brad just nodded, now refusing to make eye contact with the two of you, before sauntering off out of the bar.

Not far behind, Tommy and Maria were alert and watched Brad’s every movement. They had both of your backs as soon as they saw Joel shove him into the pole. Even Ellie was on high alert, which almost caused her to grab the knife in her pocket.

Joel turned to you in an instant. His eyes glossed over your entire form, grasping every single detail to make sure you were okay. His eyes stopped at the slight tear in your favorite dress. He pursed his lips in annoyance, but then his eyes locked onto your wrist.

“C’mon. I need to see your wrist.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

He took you into the back where the aging room was—old barrels full of whiskey and rum stacked high along the walls. He sat you down on a wooden table and went to go find some supplies.

You sat there, feeling like you were in trouble. Joel hadn’t said a word, and your mind was starting to race at the possibilities of what he was thinking. While it wasn’t abnormal for Joel to act like this, you knew something wasn’t right.

You could see it in his calculating eyes and furrowed eyebrows—the harsh smile lines on his cheeks almost seemed deeper. You could see it in the way that his hand trembled when he moved some papers to the other end of the table.

You felt stupid for not seeing that Brad was flirting with you. God, you felt so dumb. You really thought that you were making a new friend. You felt even dumber that you couldn’t see the hostility in his eyes, either.

What was Joel thinking? Did he hate you? You knew you mistake people’s flirty gestures for friendly acts way too often.

Did it hurt him? Tears started to form on your lash line, and that sunken feeling in your chest only deepened.

Joel finally came back with a pack of ice and a little box of first aid. He wrapped a rag around the ice so it wouldn’t burn your skin.

“Here.” He gently placed it onto your skin, and you went to hold it down. You feel your eyebrow twitch in a cringe at the already bruised surface. You hear Joel digging through the kit in haste—no doubt trying to find some kind of ointment.

You closed your eyes. Your chest was heaving up and down at the thought that Joel had to sit here and take care of you, all while you fucked everything up.

“I’m sorry.”

Joel’s rummaging through the first aid abruptly stopped. He turned to you with confused furrowed brows, but then his eyes widened. He saw your glossy eyes as you tried to avoid his stare. He saw the way your lip slightly wobbled while you tried to hide your emotions.

“It’s all my fault.”

You said barely under a whisper, but you were on the side of his good ear. He heard you, and damn, his heart couldn’t have been more crushed. You didn’t do a single thing wrong, and yet you blamed yourself.

“It ain’t your fault. None of it was your fault.” He could tell, though, by the look in your eye that you weren’t convinced. He goes to open his mouth, but you beat him to the punch.

“But I should have known!” You flexed out your hand to emphasize the situation. “I should have said something or got the fucking hint!”

You let out a fast breath, eyes darting across the wood floor. His eyes flickered to the ice pack you set back on the table. “I should—I shouldn’t have been so nice! Maybe I could be less—”

Joel snapped back at the realization of what you were going to say. “Don’t you dare.” His hand instinctively lays on top of your thigh. “Don’t you ever change for people like him.”

“But I–” His hand rested so soft on your cheek, and whatever you were going to say died on your tongue. He was inches away from you now, your chests almost touching together.

“I know my words are shit, but you are everything, darlin’. You are the kindest and brightest person that I’ve ever known.” He finally rested his forehead against yours. “Don’t you even change for me, darlin’.”

You nodded against his forehead with a small smile on your face. You knew he was right. Of course, he was right. Brad was the shithole, not you.

He leaned in to brush his lips against yours—feverish and light as you felt the scruff of his beard against your cheeks. He licks into your mouth, and you find yourself pulling him in closer from his flannel collar.

His tongue swirled through your mouth from desperation starting to lock inside his chest. You have made him feel all kinds of things over the years, but pure love was something he still couldn’t get used to. He needed to feel you—needed to touch you. After the searing memory of Brad’s hand on your wrist, he needed to be inside of you.

“Sweet girl,” he almost purred into your mouth, “need you.”

You nodded into his lips. A whine escaping them seemed to be the only thing that your brain could come up with. In a mere matter of seconds, Joel was able to turn you into a puddle.

“Need to hear it, darlin’.”

You don’t miss a beat. “Need you, Joel. Please—”

He bunches up the silky dress, and his eyes shine bright as he sees your pretty laced panties. They were dark—a black onyx—that made Joel want to drool. They rested so well on your hips—so tight. He knew there was a wet patch near your core, too.

His nimble fingers shoved your panties aside to dig—just a little—into your dripping folds. He groaned, rough and bold against the plains of your ear. “J-Joel—”

You knew by the slow, agonizing pace that his hands seemed to feel you in, Joel was going to fuck you stupid. He always got slow and steady when he knew he was going to take his sweet, sweet time.

“Oh! Oh fuck,” the pads of his fingers move to the nub of your clit. They swirled in small circles, and your hands gripped his shoulders so tightly. Your jaw hangs slack as you feel the pleasure blossom through your stomach to your chest.

“That’s it. Yeah. Does that feel good, pretty girl?”

He was smirking, just a little. You could tell by the sound of his voice, but you see the way his lips slightly curled when your eyes flickered up to his.

“Feels so good, Joel—so—so good.” His other hand spread your legs a little wider for him, relishing in the soft pillows of your skin and curves. He gave your thigh a small squeeze before sinking onto his knees.

Your eyes were about to pop out of your head. “Joel—” You warned, honestly concerned about his knees, but the thought quickly left when his other hand shuffled your underwear down to your ankles. He dragged your hips forward so that your ass was hanging just barely off of the wobbly table.

“Fuck. Look at you drippin’ for me.”

His eyes shined underneath the yellow-hazed lights. His head goes to dip into your folds, and he moans—sending a rough vibration to your folds. You tasted just the same—earthy and sour and so so sweet.

His hand dug into your thigh—the pad of his thumb was pressing deep into your skin. His tongue flicked and swirled to gather up that slick that dripped from your folds. He felt addicted to you—you tasted, felt, looked, and sounded so ethereal.

“Oh, Joel—” He could have you on his tongue for the rest of his fucking life. The way you call out his name—hands desperately grabbing at his salt and peppered hair and whimpers leaving your lips. “F-Fuck, I–”

Your brain became even mushier with each flick and whirl of his tongue around your folds. “Can’t get enough of this pussy.” He gruffed.

His mouth moved to your swollen clit, and your hips involuntarily jumped—slightly closing around his head. He pried your thighs open with his rough, used hands before shoving them over his shoulders.

You didn’t have time to react, though. Not when he was moving a finger to tease your folds. “Joel! Oh my god—” You could only whimper and shout his name. You moan, you gasp, and you whimpered even more.

It’s all you could think about. Joel Joel Joel. He was all you ever seem to think about.

His finger slid easily into your sopping cunt, and you moaned into the air. His tongue lapped and sucked against your swollen nub—finger simultaneously curling into you.

“Oh, Joel, I-I can’t—”

His mouth left you, only for a moment, but a whine escaped your lips.

“Gonna cum already, darlin’? Hmm?” He inserted another finger without warning, giving that even longer stretch of your walls.

You gasped, nonsense mumbling from your tongue. He was sure you said his name in there somewhere. He felt his cock twitch at the sparkle in your eyes and the essence of ecstasy that stretched across your glistening, sweaty skin. His long, thick fingers fucked into over and over—tongue swirling across your pretty little clit.

“C’mon, cum for me. That’s it. You’re such a good girl—my good girl.” You hiccuped, head slung back as your walls continued to clench around his fingers. “You can do it, hmm? Cum on my mouth, sunshine.”

You gasped loudly—body short-circuiting and spasming as the orgasm washed over your entire body. Joel’s name was like a mantra stuck on your tongue. Your body felt white-hot and sticky as your juices flushed against Joel’s chin and your inner thighs.

Sunshine. Sunshine. You heard that over and over again. He watched with those thick eyes as you came undone. And wow, you looked so pretty. Your gasps and moans, your body shuddering from the shattering pleasure that spreads up and down your body. He wants to remember moments like this instead of the dark ones.

As you came down from your high, you looked down at Joel. Your strong legs pulled him in a bit closer, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his nose. He just looked up at you—no doubt he had the biggest heart eyes on you that anyone had ever seen.

You started to laugh from the enormous high—cum running down your legs and the fact that not even fifteen minutes ago, you were hassled by another man. The whole situation seemed funny to you now.

Joel cracked his own smile, just for you. He caressed your cheek and rubbed his thumb back and forth. “Let’s go home, sunshine.”

You weren’t even sure he caught himself the second time when he called you that. It just flowed off of his tongue so easily.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile as wide as you could. You knew what that meant—what he was insinuating. A fire lit inside of your chest. Damn, you could never get used to the way Joel would make you feel.

He grumbled under his breath. “Shut up. I got it.”

Yeah, he definitely didn’t. He needed your help not two seconds later, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You were Joel’s. Joel was yours.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #smut #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou show #joel miller x f!reader

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leonsi · 2 years

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my little brothers are going to be in high school in two weeks............ 😟

#I AM NOT OKAY. THEYRE ALMOST TALLER AND STRONGER THAN ME #WHO AM I IF NOT THE SCARY OLDER SISTER WHO BEATS PEOPLE UP FOR THEM ???#i still think of them as like. 10-12 year olds in my mind and theyre FOURTEEN?? im gonna cry #theyre not ready for high school theyre gonna be eaten alive !! i just KNOW an alt girl with bunny ears is gonna break one of their hearts #im worried tho tbh bc theyre both kinda leaning towards bigotry and once they got hs boys telling them its ok theres nothing I can do atp #sigh. sorry internet you get tmi about my family once more #ramble

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munson-blurbs · 8 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Summary: Your weekend getaway to Indianapolis comes with a boyfriend who's trying to quit smoking, a five-year-old who has difficulty acclimating to new routines, and your own insecurities about your mothering abilities. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: angst, insecurities about motherhood, lost child, Eddie gets mad at us, discussion of menstrual period/PMS

WC: 7.7k A/N: There is a moment where someone refers to us as Harris's mom; however, she doesn't see us. There is no indication that we resemble Harris in any way.

Chapter 16/20

Divider credit to @saradika Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsonsmum

The morning dew still kisses the grass when you arrive at the Munson apartment, hauling your duffel bag up to their half-packed car. Eddie’s leaning into the backseat, only his jean-clad legs visible from your vantage point. Harris stands behind him, watching his dad’s every move earnestly and intently. If you had a camera on you, you’d take a photo of this Kodak moment.

“Hi, boys!” you chirp as enthusiastically, tucking your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing when Eddie bangs his head on the roof of the car. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, ‘m good,” he mutters, rubbing at his scalp with one hand, expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile.”Morning, Sweetheart. You sleep well?”

You nod, opening your arms as Harris races towards you for a hug. “What about you guys? Or were you too excited about our super-fun weekend?”

“Daddy snored!” Harris reports with a grin, overjoyed to share what he perceives to be a juicy morsel of gossip.

Eddie gasps in mock-offense, reaching out to take your bag and arranging it amongst his and Harris’s in the trunk. “I did not!”

“Did too!” Harris retorts, turning back to you and adding, “like, so loud!”

You crouch down, and hold a pinky out in front of him. “We’re gonna have to stick together this weekend if we’re going to survive,” returning his smile when he wraps his little finger around yours in a promise.

“Can’t believe my girlfriend is conspiring against me with my own flesh and blood,” Eddie grumbles, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s said; rather, in front of whom he’s said it. His panicked gaze meets yours, and you both anticipate some reaction from Harris, but he’s fortunately unfazed and too fixated on the utter silliness of his dad’s snoring. Eddie clears his throat, determined to change the subject before his son catches on. “I think we’re ready to ship out,” he offers, slamming the trunk shut and pressing down to double-check that it’s closed.

“Snacks?” you ask, running through a mental checklist of necessities.

Eddie holds up a family-size bag of pretzels. “Got ‘em.”

“Water?”

“Backseat,” he points to the floor to the left of Harris’s booster seat–a recent upgrade from his carseat. “Harris will be in charge of that, right, Har?”

“Right!” Harris confirms with a thumbs-up.

“Sounds good. Put him to work,” you tease. Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the playful relationship that you and his son have, swapping smiles and making each other laugh. “Music?”

Eddie juts his chin towards the center console, filled to the brim with cassettes. “Always.”

You cock your eyebrow knowingly before posing your next question, preparing yourself for some visceral response. “Nicotine gum?”

Eddie groans, patting the pack of Nicorette in his pocket. “Unfortunately, yes.” About a week and a half ago, Harris had come home from school crying after the school had put on an assembly about the dangers of smoking. Eddie had been meaning to quit for a long time, but his son worrying over real problems, using words like cancer and heart attack, was what finally pushed him to chuck every pack of cigarettes he owned into the trash.

“Okay,” you smile and clap your hands together, “I think we’re good to go!” You help Harris buckle his seatbelt before climbing into the passenger seat.

The sedan rumbles to life, catching on the second key turn and disrupting the otherwise still morning. “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Eddie roars in an exaggeratedly deep voice, and Harris giggles from the backseat. With Eddie’s hand on the gearshift, you seize the opportunity to squeeze it, light pink tickling his cheeks at your touch.

It’s only thirty minutes into the drive before it starts.

“Daddy, I gotta pee!”

You can practically feel the patience leaving Eddie’s body, fingers tightly gripping the wheel until his knuckles flush white.

“Har Bear, we just hit the road,” he tries, knowing his efforts are fruitless. “Can you hold it?”

“No, it’s a ‘mergency!”

“Fuck,” Eddie swears under his breath. The likelihood of it actually being an emergency is slim to none, but he’s in no mood to risk it. “All right, I’ll pull over at the next rest stop, ‘kay?”

Eddie takes the next exit, parking at a truck stop and nearly falling out of the car in his scramble to get Harris to the bathroom. “C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters, walking so quickly that Harris nearly trips over his own feet. You quicken your own pace just to keep up with them.

The scent of coffee grabs your attention as soon as you walk in the door, and you make a beeline for the tiny Dunkin Donuts tucked in the corner. The cashier looks as though they could use a shot or two of espresso, eyelids closing under their visor as you give your order. When the boys get back from the bathroom, you present Eddie with a large coffee with far more milk and sugar than your own, and hand a chocolate donut to Harris.

Eddie's eyes shift back and forth from the donut to you before he speaks. “It’s, like, 9 am,” he points out. “He’s gonna be bouncing off the walls if he eats that now.”

Oh. Obviously. What were you thinking, giving an already-hyperactive child pure sugar in the morning? All of the times you’d cringed when parents had sent their kids into school with Cocoa Puffs or some equally sugary cereal, and you’d given his son a chocolate donut for breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you sputter, shaking your head in frustration. “I should’ve asked you first, or saved it for later.”

“‘S fine,” he mutters, heaving an exasperated sigh as Harris takes a giant bite of donut. “At least there’s two of us to chase after him,” he adds with a weak smile.

Harris has devoured nearly the entire donut by the time Eddie’s buckling him back in, chocolate crumbs tucked into the crevices of his mouth. He’s oblivious to your faux pas, and you’d like to keep it that way.

“I really am sorry,” you say again, guilt gnawing in your stomach. “I should’ve known better; I guess I just got excited about our little vacation together.”

Eddie’s grin is more genuine this time. “Me, too, baby.” He sneaks a quick kiss to your cheek when Harris is focused on what remains of his snack. “The whole no-smoking thing has me extra bitter, y’know?”

You know. You definitely know, but you’re not about to point out all of the ways he’s been short-tempered lately. Instead, you relax into your seat and try to brush off your mistake as Eddie turns on the radio and guitar riffs replace the silence.

Eddie rolls down the window as the springtime sun warms the air, and you stretch as the rush of wind cools your body. His curls whip around the base of his neck, dancing in the breeze, and you can’t help but push them out of his face haphazardly.

Your stomach growls, and you’re grateful for the blaring music masking the embarrassingly loud noise. You’d forgotten to grab something for breakfast in your rush to leave your apartment, and coffee is a poor substitute for the most important meal of the day.

You reach down to the bag of pretzels nestled against your feet. “Y’want?” you ask Eddie, who nods and opens his mouth for you to feed it to him while he concentrates on the road. Laughter bubbles up from within you as he takes one from your hand by pinching it between his teeth.

Harris giggles, too. “Daddy, you look like a goat from the zoo!”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie slides the snack into his mouth and bites down with a crunch, “and what sounds do goats make?”

“Hmm,” Harris ponders this for a moment before bleating a resounding, “maaaah!”

You swivel in your seat to give him a high-five. There’s donut residue on your hand when you pull back. “Smarty pants! I bet you know every animal sound there is.”

You and Eddie rattle off different species as you feed him more pretzels. Harris manages perfect impressions of each, until you call out, “sloth!” and effectively stump him.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he cackles maniacally, partially because of his sugar rush, you’re sure, “that is so silly!”

“Y’just gotta do everything suuuuper slooooow.” You drag out the last two words to emphasize your point. “Like this: Haaaaarrisssss…caaaaan…youuuuu…haaaaand…meeeeee…aaaaa…waaaaterrrr?” This brings on a fresh round of giggles from the backseat; even extra-bitter Eddie manages a hint of a smile.

Harris grabs a bottle at a snail’s–no, a sloth’s–pace. “Heeere…youuuuu…goooooo!” His pace is far from hurried, and you feel the gentle tap of the plastic cap against your shoulder blade a full thirty seconds later.

“Thaaaaank…youuuuu!” You crack open the bottle of water and take a swig, quenching a thirst only made worse by the salty snack. “Wanna play again? See how many other animal sounds you can do?” you ask, grateful to have found a way to keep him occupied. Before you can close the bottle, Eddie reaches over and snags it, lifting it to his lips.

“Daddy, no!” Harris screeches from the backseat, little hand shooting out in protest, causing Eddie to slam on the brake. Water sloshes over the top of the bottle and onto his pants.

“Shit—what, Har?” he snaps, shoving the now half-empty bottle into the cupholder. He swipes haphazardly at the wet patch on his thigh, darkening the denim as it spreads along the fabric. He gives up with a mumbled, “whatever,” when he realizes he’s only rubbing it in more.

“You’re gonna get her germs,” Harris points out matter-of-factly.

Eddie huffs out a terse chuckle, slightly amused but still irritated. “Yeah, yeah, right,” he mutters, and you take that as a sign to reach back and get him his own bottle.

The remainder of the drive is uneventful, though Eddie has to dip into his Nicorette stash when a maroon Toyota Corolla weaves in and out of lanes at lightning speed and cuts him off. He instinctively reaches for the pack of cigarettes he’d always kept in the console, groaning when he remembers that it’s long gone.

“Good job, baby,” you murmur softly, giving his knee a quick squeeze in approval as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “‘M proud of you.”

You pull up to the hotel just after 10 AM, the morning chill has dissipated as the sun’s rays warm the air. The fair weather made the trip smoother, a small miracle if you’d ever seen one. Truthfully, you don’t think Eddie’s frayed nerves can handle a rainy day.

Eddie takes Harris’s hand as you all walk through the parking lot and up to the front desk. A middle-aged concierge greets you, the customer service smile plastered across his face faltering when he clocks Eddie’s ripped jeans and disheveled wind-blown hair.

“Reservation’s under ‘Munson,’” Eddie says to him, not making eye contact; your heart is a sinking stone when you realize that he also noticed the man’s shifting expression. “I called ahead and they said we could check in early.”

The concierge nods. You catch a glimpse of his shiny silver name tag, proudly proclaiming “STU, ASSISTANT MANAGER” gleaming in the overhead fluorescent lighting. “Room 325,” he grunts, handing you and Eddie keys dangling from matching logo-branded chains. Elation is a sunflower blooming in your chest; your first vacation has officially begun. Maybe it’s a little getaway only ninety minutes from home, but it’s a new adventure that you’re taking together.

Eddie flings his and Harris’s shared bag, then yours, onto one of the queen beds with a groan. “We made it!” he announces, flinging an arm over your shoulder. The pads of his fingers brush your upper arm, a tissue-paper light touch that has you soaring.

“Daddy? I gotta pee again,” Harris’s urgency breaks the moment. He’s hopping from one foot to the other, a potty dance if you’ve ever seen one.

“Go for it,” Eddie says, pointing towards the bathroom. He shakes his head when his son sprints the short distance.

Once the door closes, Eddie’s hands are on your hips, tugging you so close that your stomachs touch, your breasts pressed to his chest. His mouth immediately swoops down to your neck, nipping gently at the flesh along your collarbone.

“Hello there,” you manage to speak through a laugh. You’re unable to say more, as he’s pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss so fervently that your teeth nearly click together.

“Hi,” he breathes once he’s pulled back, brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Sorry, y’just look really pretty.”

You wrinkle your nose in confusion. “I’m wearing sweatpants. I don’t even have makeup on.” Truthfully, you’d meant to at least swipe on some mascara, but you were preoccupied making sure that you’d packed everything you needed for the weekend.

“Don’t care,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in for another kiss, “still s’fuckin’ pretty. Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you.”

The solution to that problem comes in the form of a flushing toilet and Harris calling out, “I’m done! Gonna wash my hands!”

Eddie throws his head back in frustration before burying his pink-tinged face in his hands. “This, uh, was not exactly how I imagined our first time in a hotel together,” he admits.

“At least he’s washing his hands,” you joke, trying to ward off the throbbing need building in your core. It fails miserably. You want him, need him, to relieve the ache in the way that only he can. You yearn for the way his fingertips dance across your skin, eagerly reaching under your shirt or dipping below your waistband, desperate to make his girl feel good.

The two of you break apart as the bathroom door swings open. You fly across the room and pretend like you’re rifling through your duffel bag while Eddie flops onto the bed. His shirt rides up slightly as he lays down, and you have to fight the urge to bite the exposed sliver of tummy.

“When are we going to the market?” Harris asks, catapulting himself onto the bed and landing next to his dad.

Eddie rolls over and checks the digital alarm clock between the two queen beds. “Doesn’t start for another few hours,” he says. “I was gonna try and take a quick nap before we—”

“I’m not tired!” Harris whines, and you can see in Eddie’s deflated, tense physicality that his already thin patience is wearing down further. “I wanna go now!”

“Hey, Har Bear,” you try, hoping you’re not inserting yourself into the dynamic too forcefully, “why don’t we go on an adventure while Daddy sleeps? We can wake him up when we get back.”

Harris hops down onto the floor and readily slips his hand into yours. “Bye, Daddy!” he calls out, dragging you towards the door. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are having a ‘venture!”

Eddie gives you a weary but grateful smile as he scoots upwards to rest his head on the overstuffed pillow. “Godspeed,” he mumbles into the sheets, already beginning to doze off as he speaks.

The elevator dings and you shuffle into the small space, reaching for the “L” button to bring you down to the lobby.

“I wanna push the button!” Harris laments, and his sudden shriek has you instinctively pulling your hand back before regaining your composure.

Do you correct him? Let him press the button despite raising his voice? Deciding a consequence comes naturally to you in the classroom, but the anxiety of making the wrong choice serves as a massive roadblock. “You have to ask nicely if you want to push the button,” you offer, sending up a silent prayer that this staves off an impending tantrum.

He pouts for a moment before relenting. “Can I push the button?” It’s more grumble than request, but you accept it anyway.

His hand remains tucked safely into yours when you leave the hotel, basking in warm weather. You breathe in for three, breathe out for three. Okay. You can do this. Your job revolves around children; you can survive an afternoon taking care of just one.

Except that one happens to be your boyfriend’s son, and if you mess this up, it could ruin both Munsons’ perceptions of you.

“Where’re we going?” Harris asks, and you realize that you have no earthly idea; to be honest, you’re surprised that he so readily agreed.

”We can go for a walk?” you suggest, pasting on a smile in feigned confidence. “Maybe we can find a playground or something?”

“Okay!” he chirps. He’s fast for someone with little legs, and you have to remind him multiple times to use his walking feet. Yeah, this kid needs to burn off some energy, stat.

To your relief, there’s a playground just a few blocks away, fully equipped with a swing set and a jungle gym. Harris races across the grassy field onto the wood chip-covered area, assessing the space to figure out what he wants to conquer first.

You sit on the bench next to a woman who simultaneously reads a James Patterson novel and keeps an eye on the jungle gym, where a little girl is dangling from the monkey bars, putting one hand in front of the other.

She looks over with a sympathetic smile when you breathe out a long sigh, sinking into the wooden back like a weight has been removed from your shoulders.

“I hear that,” she says with a kind chuckle. “Mine will be tired for about…hmm, five minutes? Just long enough to get her home, and then she’ll be hopping around like the Energizer Bunny.” She shakes her head. “Is yours the same way?”

Yours. The term is peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth, and it takes a beat too long for you to respond. “Y-Yeah, I’m pretty sure he would sleep run if he could.” The stranger laughs at your joke, and you relax a bit. “Sorry, he’s really my boyfriend’s son, and it’s kind of…new to think of him as being mine, too.”

You expect her to pick up and move to a different bench, away from the weird woman who’s baring her soul on the playground, but she just closes her book and turns to you. “Carly is technically my stepdaughter,” she explains in a hushed tone, “but her mom’s not in the picture so, for all intents and purposes, she’s my daughter. No ‘step’ necessary.”

“Is…is it hard?” you ask, the question spilling from your lips in a desperate plea for answers. “Being a stepmom?”

She nods. “Oh, absolutely.” She brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, and you can see a sparkle behind them. “But, trust me, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Her words, spoken freely of judgment and purely with empathy, alleviate the nervousness burning through you. “Thank you,” you murmur, gratitude forming a lump in your throat that you struggle to swallow.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris shouts from the top of the jungle gym. “Look what I can do!” He hesitates for a moment before reaching out his arms and grabbing onto the metal pole. You stand up to call out a preemptive warning, to get to him before he can fall, but before you can, his chubby hands grip the pole. He hooks his legs around it and slides down expertly, not letting go until his sneakers are firmly planted on the wood chips scattered across the ground.

Pride warms your heart when his eyes lock with yours, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he awaits your approval. Anticipation reverberates within his little body, and before you can get in a word edgewise, he’s jumping up and down with an excited, “didja see me?”

“You’re amazing!” Your praise floats through the air and envelops him like a long-awaited embrace. “Super brave, too. I don’t think I could do that.”

He furrows his brows before a knowing smile forms on his lips. “Yes, you can! I’ll show you.”

Kind of walked right into that one, you lightly chastise yourself, but you dutifully shuffle towards where he’s already darting up the steps on all fours, hands splayed out for balance.

“C’mon, Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris cheers, waving his fists in the air in earnest, and you simply cannot let the boy down. He easily glides down once more, big brown eyes looking up at you from the ground. “Just like that, see?”

“Right, got it.” You give him a thumbs-up and emulate his movements, holding on tightly to the metal pole and sliding down. You grimace as it squeaks under your grasp, nails on a chalkboard, but your feet reach the ground soon enough.

Harris flings his arms around you, chin digging into your thigh as he gazes up in adoration. “I told you you could do it! Y’just had to try!” His admiration is fleeting; he soon spots another child leap from the swingset to play elsewhere. “Can you push me on the swings?” he pleads, already leading you to the equipment. “I just need a little help getting started, but then ‘m good.”

You hold the chain links dangling from the top of the structure, allowing Harris to maneuver himself onto the rubber seat. He scoots back so his bottom is fully supported and announces, “‘m ready!”

“Hold on tight,” you remind him, more out of routine than necessity, as you pull back the rust-covered chains. You move as far back as you can, double-checking that he hasn’t let go, and release the swing. His squealing giggles are music to your ears, and you push him a few more times before he’s able to take over independently.

His mop of curls defies gravity as he sails back and forth, pumping his legs to gain height. “Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Do you love my daddy?”

You ponder the thought for a moment. You know exactly how you feel about Eddie; he simultaneously kicks up the butterflies in your stomach and calms every buzzing nerve in your body with just a smile, but you’re unsure how much he wants to tell Harris. You settle on the truth, direct and simple: “yeah, I do love him.”

Harris wastes no time asking a follow-up question. “A lot or a little?”

“A lot,” you answer quickly, realizing the magnitude of your enamoration as you say it aloud. The way Eddie’s kisses wrap you in an armor of safety; you hope your kisses have the same effect on him. “Definitely a lot.”

He hums his acknowledgement. “Grampa Wayne says Daddy loves you a lot, too, but I can’t ask you to be my mommy yet.”

You freeze in place so suddenly that the swing’s momentum nearly knocks you down; you step out of the way just before his sneaker-clad feet can make contact with your torso. “You want me to be your mommy?” you repeat dumbly, still half-convinced that you heard him incorrectly.

“Mhm,” Harris confirms, “but Grampa says that being a mommy is a big ‘sponsibility, and I gotta be patient. That means I gotta wait until Daddy says it’s okay to ask you,” he elaborates matter-of-factly.

This is clearly something they’ve talked about, extensively enough that Harris knows that he shouldn’t say anything about it. You’re temporarily rendered speechless, words failing you as you search for an appropriate response. Do you thank him? Act like you hadn’t heard him? Hope that a sinkhole opens up in the middle of the playground and swallows you whole?

“Th-That’s great, Har,” you manage, shoulders suddenly heavy with the weight of his statement. He goes back to focusing on pumping his legs, leaving you to tend to the anxiety gnawing at your insides.

Motherhood–the term stepmother seems arbitrary, given that Harris’s biological mother has all but dropped off of the face of the Earth–is a terrifying prospect. Any time you try to explain your fears, people just shrug them off, claiming that you’d be a ‘natural,’ that your years of teaching would ultimately ‘pay off’ when you had children of your own. As if teaching and parenting were remotely the same.

To you, the differences are as clear as day. When you’re a parent, there’s no ‘clocking out.’ Your obligations don’t begin at 9 AM and end at 2 PM; they’re twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It’s not the same thing. Not even close.

Before you became a teacher, you had to go to school and take education courses. Read your textbooks cover to cover. Had to do an internship for a semester. You’d had ample opportunities to determine whether or not it was the right job for you. Motherhood doesn’t offer that luxury: you don’t know if you’ll be a good mom until you’ve already chosen to become one.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” You jump out of your skin when you realize that Harris is slowing himself down, scuffed Reeboks scraping against the ground as he comes to a stop. “Can I get ice cream?”

You bite back a laugh. “You just had a donut, silly boy,” you remind him with a gentle ruffle to his curls, trying to keep your tone breezy, “but we can grab some sandwiches. Maybe even get one for Daddy, too?”

His lower lip quivers, making your heart lurch. “B-But–”

“And,” you interject, “we can go out for ice cream after the market. With Daddy.” You hope it’s a promise you can keep.

It was too good to be true. Deep down, you knew it, despite the fleeting victory of getting Harris to eat an actual lunch. His hands were sticky with peanut butter and jelly–you were making a mental note to reassure Eddie that, yes, some had gotten in his mouth–when you’d done the unthinkable. The unimaginable.

You hadn’t let him press the elevator button.

He howls and sinks down to the floor, knees slamming into the linoleum tile and making him scream even louder.

“Buddy, you’ve got peanut–”

“I wanted to press…the…BUTTON!” he shrieks, every minor inconvenience he’s encountered today culminating in what you can only dub the Tantrum of the Decade. The crash from the sugar rush, not going to the market when he wanted to, the lack of ice cream are represented in every fat tear rolling down his reddening cheeks, in every flail of his legs as you try to scoop him up and bring him into the elevator, in every heaving breath. He’s overtired, overwhelmed, and out of his normal routine.

Your own eyes get misty as the metal door slides shut, enclosing you in a small space that seems to shrink with each wail. The kid has the lung capacity of an Olympic swimmer, while you’re drowning in your own pity.

He’s still sobbing when you reach the third floor, and Eddie’s flying out of the room as soon as he hears the sound of his son crying. Curls disheveled from his nap, crust still at the corners of his eyes. I woke him up, you realize. Another nail in the coffin.

“Wh-What happened?” His voice is raised, not in accusation, but just to be heard over Harris yelling. “Did he get hurt?” He takes Harris from your arms, clutching him to his chest in sheer panic. Reflexively, he inspects his boy’s head, arms, and legs for bruising and blood.

You shake your head, afraid that any attempt to speak will have your voice fracturing into pieces, no better than the little boy’s meltdown.

Fortunately, Harris has no problem filling his dad in. “I–wanted–to push–the button–and–she–said–NO!!!” Each word is punctuated with a hitched breath and is angrier than the last.

Eddie looks at you, more puzzled than worried now that he knows his son is unharmed, and a visit to the emergency room is unnecessary.

“His hands were sticky from his sandwich,” you mutter, unable to make eye contact with either Munson. “Oh, um, this is yours,” you add robotically, handing him the bag containing his hoagie, now a darker shade of brown from the grease it’s soaked up. You wince at how stilted you sound, simply going through the motions, not at all like the enthusiastic presentation you’d planned on the walk back to the hotel.

“Thanks.” Not unappreciative, but far from enthusiastic, and you can’t blame him. “Let’s just, uh, let’s just get him in the room.”

The sleepiness consumes Harris after a few more arduous minutes in his dad’s embrace. Eddie rubs circles on his back to calm him down, tiny shh sounds passing through his teeth. Harris begins to catch his breath; hiccups like aftershocks ricochet in his chest, gradually subsiding into soft snores.

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers as he gingerly places him onto the unmade bed, still warm from where he was lying just moments earlier, “that was one hell of a wake-up call.”

You speak at the same volume as him, though you don’t even have to try. Shame buries your voice deep in your diaphragm. “I’m so sorry.” Your right incisor digs into your lower lip as emotion ravishes you. The absence of Harris’s tantruming creates a loud silence that neither of you have the energy to fill.

“I could say the same to you,” Eddie says with a soft chuckle, taking your hand and squeezing it tight as he sits down on your bed. “His meltdowns are no joke.”

“I should’ve just let him press the damn button.” You’re only half-serious, but your stomach sinks when Eddie says nothing; instead, he carefully unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. A glob of mustard lands on the parchment paper with a soft plop.

He doesn’t disagree. You made a mistake—two mistakes, if you’re counting the donut fiasco—and Eddie saw it. Saw that you’d failed.

“Did you get enough rest?” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject, and you both know it, but you go for it anyway.

He lets his knee knock into yours. “Never enough, Sweetheart,” he says with a smile, wiping his lips with the flimsy deli napkin. “But, yeah, I got some sleep.” He leans in and murmurs in your ear, “Would’ve been better with you next to me, though.”

You turn so that your nose brushes his. “If I was laying next to you, you wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you quip, stifling your laughter when he takes your cheeks in his hands and smacks a kiss to your lips.

“I would be a perfect gentleman.” He stretches and exposes the happy trail below his navel. “My eyes are up here,” he teases, catching you checking him out. “And you were worried about me.”

The dynamic shifts back to playful and lighthearted, his joke chipping away at the tension that’s been weighing you down.

“Shut up and eat your sandwich, Munson.”

“Yes, dear.”

You’ve showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes, jeans replacing the ratty sweatpants you’d donned earlier. You’d tried to wash the day’s stress down the drain along with the eucalyptus-scented soap suds, and though you don’t feel completely recharged, you’re ready enough to tackle the market.

Still, you can’t stop yourself from murmuring to Eddie, “d’you want me to stay here with Harris? Just in case it’s too much for him?”

He considers it for a moment before shaking his head, shrugging on his denim jacket. “Nah, he got his nap. Should be fine.”

The little boy in question slips one hand into yours and looks up at you with a grin. Eddie had talked to him earlier, reminded him about expressing himself in ways that didn’t hurt people–or their ears–and Harris apologized tearily. All is forgiven; at least between you and him. You still feel an uneasiness with Eddie, though it may be one-sided, as he’d quietly lamented that you two couldn’t shower together.

“We’re goin’ to the market! We’re goin’ to the market!” Harris chants, shuffling on the balls of his feet in a little dance. “Ms. Sweetheart, guess what?”

“What?”

“WE’RE GOIN’ TO THE MARKET!”

“Shocking,” Eddie mutters under his breath, a wry smile on his lips, and you use your free hand to swat at his stomach. “Okay,” he pats the wallet in the side pocket of his jeans, “got the company card, keys, handsome son, beautiful girlfriend…” He glances around the room; this time, he’s either unaware of his slip-up or is unbothered by Harris knowing your relationship status. “Looks like we’re good to go!”

The car ride isn’t too long; it’s only about a ten minute drive before you reach the market. And since you’d remembered to let Harris press the elevator button, it didn’t feel endless.

“Now, Harris,” Eddie says as his son climbs out of the car, hopping onto the parking lot pavement, “the market’s gonna be busy–”

“I know!”

“--so you have to hold my hand, or Ms. Sweetheart’s hand–”

“I know!”

“--the whole time. Got it?”

“Yes!” He’s far too exasperated for a five-year-old, and you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. “Can we go in now?”

Eddie obliges and takes Harris’s right hand; you take his left, the three of you walking towards the gigantic building together.

You’d figured it would be crowded, but you’re unprepared for just how overstimulated your senses become upon entering. Vendors shout advertisements for their booths, beckoning potential customers to check out their wares. Snippets of different conversations infiltrate your ears, and you swallow hard to clear your head, though the grainy muzak pumping through the overhead speakers doesn't help.

Immediately, you spot a booth selling secondhand books, and you look at Eddie with a hopeful gaze.

“Go,” he motions with a smile, laughing when you all but skip off to the stack of novels. You don’t want to take too long, as neither Munson has the patience to wait while you peruse your options. A weathered paperback copy of The Grapes of Wrath catches your eye, some pages dog-eared and smelling faintly of stale smoke, and you fish out two quarters from the bottom of your bag and place them in the vendor’s hand.

“Okay,” you breathe when you get back to Eddie and Harris, overwhelmed just by the short walk. You grip Harris’s hand even tighter, all-too protective of him in such a crowded space. “Let’s go get some records!”

Eddie finds a variety of vinyls that he knows will sell at Rock Records—from older classics like Louis Armstrong, Etta James, and Buddy Holly, to more recent gems from Van Halen, Queen, and Michael Jackson.

“Babe, check this out!” he announces gleefully, showing off a copy of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. “I must’ve listened to this a hundred times when it was released in ‘84.” His enthusiasm is palpable, and you have to wonder if this purchase is for the store or for himself.

To his credit, Harris lasts a full twenty-five minutes before he starts asking for ice cream again. “You promised, renember?”

Eddie grins at him, then at you. “A promise, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “Can’t break that.”

“I think I saw a booth down there that’s sellIng some.” It’s a local shop, and you know one cone will probably cost more than a half-gallon at the grocery store, but you’ll risk the upcharge if it means avoiding a second meltdown today.

“I’ll be right there,” Eddie tells you, eyes flitting back towards a row of booths you’d passed by earlier. “Just get me something with chocolate?”

“What’s the magic word?” Harris interjects.

“Please.” He lays it on thick, throwing you a wink before turning around.

You grab a $5 bill from your back pocket, change from when you’d bought the sandwiches earlier, and approach the ice cream stand.

“Can I please get one cherry chip cone, one chocolate fudge cone, and…what do you want, Har?”

“That!” He points to a giant display of model cars displayed in front of a toy vendor’s booth. “I want the orange one!”

“We can look after,” you reassure him. “First, you have to pick the ice cream flavor you want.”

“Hmm,” he presses on tiptoes to peruse his options before pressing his forefinger to the glass, pointing to cookies ‘n cream, declaring, “that one!”

The vendor hands him his cone, then turns to you and confirms, “just the three cones?”

“Mhm.”

She punches some numbers into the register, expression far too serious for the gig. “That'll be $6.”

Exhaling, you hand her the bill in your palm. There’s no way the stodgy woman is going to cut you a break for the extra dollar. “Give me a sec; I should have a single in my wallet.” You let go of Harris’s hand, fumbling around in your bag until you pull out what you’ve been searching for.

The vendor takes your money and hands you the remaining two cones, already starting to melt with all of the body heat surrounding you.

“Thank you,” you say with a polite smile. “Okay, Har, let’s—” Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s nowhere to be found. “Harris!” you call out, voice shaking on the last syllable, unable to hide how frantic you feel. “Harris!”

Eddie, already on his way from his earlier errand, runs over to you. “Where’s—”

“He was just here!” You push your way through the crowd, accidentally brushing your scoop of cherry chip along someone’s jacket, but there’s no time to apologize.

You and Eddie take turns yelling out his name, bile rising in your throats with each unanswered shout, until you hear somebody ask, “is that your mommy and daddy calling for you?”

Both your and Eddie’s heads swivel towards the conversation, breathing identical sighs of relief when you see the familiar mop of curls in front of the toy car display.

“Oh, thank God.” It comes out in one breath, your chest deflating as you and Eddie rush towards him.

“Harris, what are you doing?” Eddie admonishes him, heart still racing as the surge of adrenaline tapers off. He picks him up, fingers digging into the shirt fabric as he holds him as close as possible, and presses a kiss to his scalp. There will be some sort of consequence later–revoking TV time and a lecture on stranger danger–but for now, there’s only the comfort of knowing he’s safe.

“I just wanted to see the cars,” Harris protests, trying and failing to wriggle from Eddie’s grip. “Can I get the orange one?”

Eddie huffs out an incredulous laugh, astounded that Harris doesn’t understand the seriousness of his actions. “No, you can’t!” he yells, attracting unwanted attention from other shoppers, “and you can’t wander off like that! I told you that you have to stay with one of us the whole time!” He flexes his palm before clenching it into a frustrated fist. “What were you thinking?”

Harris’s eyes fill with tears. “I j-just wanted to s-see them,” he tries again, taken aback by the anger in his dad’s voice. “An’ Ms. Sweetheart was right there!”

The mention of your nickname reminds Eddie of the other adult involved. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he spits, gritting his teeth to keep from raising his voice at you.

You wince at his tone, filled with venom for the first time since his comment about Grandma forgetting you all those months ago. The difference is that, now, you deserve it. Letting go of his hand was careless; at the very least, you should have reminded him to stay put. The early morning donut, the elevator button were menial indiscretions compared to this mistake. There’s no denying that you’d royally messed up.

“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for not keeping a closer eye on Harris. Sorry for waking him up from his nap via a screaming child. Sorry for waltzing into their lives and thinking you had a snowball’s chance in Hell of being a decent parent. The ice cream drips down the cones and onto your hands, pooling in the crevices between your fingers. You dump them in the nearest trash can, neither of you hungry anymore.

You can’t return to the hotel soon enough, and as soon as Eddie puts an episode of Rugrats on TV for Harris, you begin inconspicuously packing your collecting your toiletries from the bathroom to back in your luggage.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks from the doorway. He’s got his arms folded across his chest, perplexion wrinkling his brows.

“Going home.”

He presses his forefinger and thumb to his eyelids and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like–”

“No,” you interrupt him, choking down your frustration, “you were right. You trusted me to watch him, and I didn’t.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie steps forward and puts out a hand to stop you from grabbing your toothbrush, “it was an accident. Things happen in a split second, yeah?” He thinks back to the way Harris had tumbled off of the bed months ago. “We found him, and that’s what matters.”

He’s trying to comfort you, which somehow makes you feel worse. You lost his kid, but he’s focusing on making you feel better.

The next words out of your mouth shatter his heart into pieces: “I think it would be better for everyone if I leave.”

A small puff of air escapes his nostrils, unsurprised but hurt nonetheless. “‘S too much for you, isn’t it?” he mumbles, not even daring to glance in your direction as he says it.

He knows. He knows that you aren’t cut out for this, that you’ll never be the mom Harris needs or deserves. In his own words, he knows it’s too much for you.

You say nothing in return, and your silence is louder than the cartoon squabble just a few feet away.

“Fine, just…just go, then.” He slams one palm on the bathroom sink, the other raking through his hair so forcefully that a few strands come loose. “God, I need a fucking cigarette!” he mutters, jaw clenched.

“I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can think to say. You’ll repeat it over and over again if it rectifies the situation.

“Yeah, whatever.” He starts to leave the room, not even turning back around to say, “I’ll tell Harris you’re not feeling well.” He wants to ask you to call the hotel room when you get home but bites back the request. That’s something one partner asks of another, and you aren’t partners anymore, he realizes bitterly, and it’s his fault. He’d put the responsibility of parenthood on you far too quickly.

He could have insisted that Harris stay and nap with him rather than letting him go to the park. He could have kept Harris by his side while you got the ice cream, or the three of you could have gone together. Instead, he’d just assumed that this was a role you had no qualms about taking on. In his eagerness to build this little family, he’d squandered the foundation before it had even set.

Eddie watches as you walk away, the words wait and don’t go and we can figure this out lurking behind his molars, but he remains silent.

When the door slams behind you, he bites on his thumb. Go after her, some part of him—his conscience, maybe—nags, but he pushes the thought away. He can’t ask you to stick around and be a mom to his son if it isn't truly what you want to do.

He removes his finger from between his teeth and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, temporarily confused when he’s met with some resistance. The tiny brown paper bag crinkles as his fingers make contact with it, and he pulls it out dejectedly.

He’d spotted the necklace while scavenging for record vendors and made a mental note to return to it when you weren’t there to see. A tiny metal heart on a chain that he’d planned to give to you at the end of the trip. It was the reason he’d left you alone with Harris; he’d wanted it to be a surprise.

“Well, that was a fuckin’ waste,” Eddie says to no one in particular, shoving it back in the confines of his pocket. He sits next to Harris, hoping Tommy Pickles’ shenanigans will melt his brain for just a few moments.

The next bus to Hawkins pulled up thirty minutes after your cab arrived at the station. It was the only way to get home, and an embarrassingly large part of you hoped that Eddie and Harris would swing by, enveloping you in a tight hug and promising you that you’re doing a great job. That you’re enough.

That moment remains a daydream, one that replays over and over as you lean your head against the window. It’s all highway from here to your small town, close to three hours on the road because of the intermediate stops, but you’re in no hurry to return. If it hurts now, you can’t imagine the pain when the loneliness sets in.

Of course Eddie wasn’t coming to rescue you; you’d let him down right when he’d needed you. It was all so superficial on your end, thinking that you could be a mother just because you’d taught Harris how to read and have dinner with him and his dad once a week.

Wallowing in pity is too indulgent, too pathetic, but you can’t keep from berating yourself. You’re a preschool teacher; how hard is it to remember to hold a kid’s hand?

Tears slip down your cheeks involuntarily and you swipe at them before your seat partner can notice. The last thing you need is to strike up an emotional conversation with a complete stranger.

And what is it with you and crying today? Getting choked up when Eddie had pointed out the donut mistake, feeling like you were going to have a meltdown alongside Harris, and now this? It’s like you have an endless supply of tears.

The most likely culprit is your run-of-the-mill PMS; you can always count on being overly sensitive on those select few days. You open your bag and take out the pocket calendar where you keep track of important appointments and dates, including your periods.

Today’s April 26. You flip back to March, rifling through the pages until you see that the first day of your last period was the twentieth.

You’re almost a full week late.

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youkissedareaderinthedark · 3 months

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Synopsis: The 3 times everyone else knew you and Lando were in love with each other, and the 1 time you two actually admitted it

female driver reader x lando norris

A/N: for this one, reader is 22 and drives for mercedes with george. also, most of the story is told from lando’s pov because this originally started off as an entirely different 3+1 fic, and I don’t have the energy to fix it. and obviously, things like race results, driver lineups, ect will be changed to better fit the story

Lando Norris knows Formula 1 is unpredictable. He knows you can’t tell what will happen during a race, nonetheless a season. But no matter how unpredictable the sport is, this was the most surprising part by far.

It’s barely been 10 years, but Lando feels like he’s known you forever. You two first met at the Karting World Championship in 2014, a race you were teammates with both him and Zhou Guanyu in. Even though he beat you to first place, your 14-year-old-self didn’t let that stop you from becoming best friends with him.

It was hard to keep track of each other when the two of you were traveling all over Europe to compete in different series, so Lando almost thought he’d never get to see you again. Until in 2020, when he heard talks of the most successful female driver yet making her way through the ranks.

Since you were announced as apart of the Mercedes driver line up in the beginning of 2022, you two have been attached at the hip. You both lived in Monaco and whenever you weren’t busy with media or team duties, you were together. Traveling, in the paddock, celebrating races; if you were there, so was Lando.

Fans were used to that fact and they usually expected it off the track, but not for races and track battles, so everyone was a bit surprised when you two placed P3 and P4 in Bahrain.

It was Round 1 of the 2023 season and even though everyone knows your results at Bahrain don’t dictate your entire season, Lando was still excited you were on the podium. He had qualified P6 behind George and yourself in P5 and P4, and with both Fernando’s Aston Martin and both Red Bulls in front of you, you weren’t expected to make it on the top steps.

Though after a few badly timed pit stops, Lando ended the race in P4, 5 seconds behind you in P3. Cheers rung out from around the grandstands as both the Mercedes and McLaren cars crossed the finish line. Your team garages were ecstatic, climbing the fence to meet you at the checkered flag and shouting congratulations through the radio.

Lando watched from behind as you steered your car into perc ferme alongside Max and Sergio and climbed out to celebrate with your team. It wasn’t P1, but it was a huge achievement to place so high so early in the season and it was obvious how proud everyone was of you.

He couldn’t help himself from leaving his car and engulfing you in a hug. You were both laughing and the Brit could practically hear your grin through it.

“You did amazing! I’m so proud of you” He says, the words muffled through your helmets.

“Thanks, I wish you were gonna be up there with me, you deserve it” you say, looking up to the podium.

Lando smiles and he’s suddenly grateful his helmet is there to hide his blush. “Thanks. Don’t worry though, soon enough we’ll be up there with a 1-2”

“With me P1, I assume?”

Your eyes are playful underneath your helmet, and he laughs. “Yeah, we’ll see. Go celebrate with your team, Y/n. Don’t ditch me for the after party though!” He shouts as you walk over to your post-race interview, starting to laugh.

“I’d never ditch you!” You shout back over your shoulder, your helmet and balaclava coming off to reveal your grin.

Lando leaves to get weighed and meet his team back in the McLaren garage, keeping his head gear on because of the stupid smile he’s all too aware is still on his face. He was supposed to go to the media pen to finish up some race interviews before sitting down for the debrief with McLaren, but you were his best friend; he couldn’t miss your first podium of the season.

Lando, still clad in his orange race suit, arrives just as Max’s national anthem is playing. He probably should be paying at least a bit of attention to the winner, he’s one of Lando’s best mates after all, but then he saw you, grinning on the third step under the many bright lights of the street circuit, and he couldn’t look away.

He watched with his own smile as you opened your bottle of champagne and poured the majority of it on the Red Bull drivers, before downing the rest of it yourself. He’d wait until you came back to street level, where he’d be waiting for another hug and feeling the sticky champagne and bright grin against his neck.

You’d start talking about the race, the moments where you didn’t think you’d make it to the podium and how happy you’d be if you could get another one. You’ll ask about his race and tell him that next weekend, he’d better be up there beside you, no matter what.

And Lando will be next to you, like he always is, smiling and hanging on to every word you say because you’re happy, so he’s happy too.

What Lando would not realize is that each moment, from when he hugged you after you got out of your car to just then when you were walking through the paddock together, had been caught by multiple people, each one thinking the one thing you two had not yet realized.

“They’re so in love with each other”

Lando Norris did not hate the Miami Grand Prix, at least not usually. But this time around, F1’s 2023 stop in Florida is one he could’ve gladly missed.

It was a double header weekend, and after coming off an extremely mediocre P9 finish in Azerbaijan, Lando was less than excited to spend 4 days in the hot sun in an even more mediocre car. There were so many unnecessary media obligations to go with the flashiness of Miami, and by Friday evening he was already looking forward to the flight back home.

The one thing that did brighten his day was you, who he also had dinner plans with after FP2. He let you distract him with whichever details about your life you had neglected to tell him before, let you get him excited for Sunday’s race again, and let you put him in a better mood.

You two were walking from the restaurant to Lando’s car, still talking and laughing as usual, when Lando asked to you come by his hotel after qualifying the next day.

“If both our qualifying are shit, we can get ice cream and mope together,” he posed jokingly, “and if it goes great, we can celebrate together as well”

But then you stop laughing and your tone changes. “Oh, sorry Lando, but I’m going out with Logan after qualifying; he’s gonna show me around Miami a bit. I’m sure he won’t mind if you come though? Do you want to?”

He pauses; Logan? “No it’s fine. I should probably be relaxing after tomorrow anyways, I think the heat’s getting to me a bit. You two have fun, though” He assures you, keeping a light-hearted tone to mask his distaste.

Logan?

Lando didn’t have anything against Logan, he thought he was a nice guy with a lot of potential. But now he’s taking his best friend away from him and for what reason? You can see Miami any day, any time you want, and if you wanted to, you certainly didn’t need him as your guide.

But fine. Lando does not own you, you’re perfectly allowed to have your own friends, and if you wanted to have an evening out with Logan Sargeant, it was perfectly okay with Lando.

The Brit drove you back to your hotel before setting off to his own, and while you were his best friend and of course, delightful company, he couldn’t help but dwell on the sour taste left in his mouth. He didn’t know why this bothered him so much.

By the time Lando was back in his room, he was too tired to figure it why and decided it was a problem for Future Lando.

He woke up Saturday morning completely forgetting about the events of last night and instead focused on getting the best results possible today. He met up with his trainer for breakfast, left for the track, and joined his PR officer in the McLaren garage. She was escorting Lando to the media pen when he suddenly slowed.

“Lando? What’s wrong?” The woman took note of his tense figure, his hard-set eyes.

All because you were walking away from the media pen with Logan at your side, laughing and looking way too happy for his liking.

He felt the sourness this time. He felt it rise throughout his body and spread like wild fire. His only question was why.

Why were you laughing so much? Why did he feel this way? Why couldn’t he let any of this go? Why were you with Logan and not with him?

“Nothing,” the McLaren drives says. “let’s go” Lando never usually hurries to the media pen, but he didn’t want to look at you and Mr. American boy-next-door any longer.

He was asked questions and he gave answers, Lando just couldn’t tell you what any of them were. This was the problem Past Lando had left for him, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

He ruled out anger; he didn’t feel mad, per se, more frustrated than angry. He wasn’t upset; he certainly didn’t feel sad. Possessiveness? He wasn’t usually possessive over his friends though, and you two weren’t dating or anything like that, so there was no real reason to feel protective. Still, Lando couldn’t shake the sourness, and was once again left without answers about you and his feelings.

It wasn’t hard to miss the Brit’s change in attitude, and it wasn’t something his friends were going to ignore.

“Are you okay, mate?” Carlos says, walking alongside him through the paddock after FP3. “You’ve been quiet all day”

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just tired, I guess” Lando shrugs, not sure if he should tell the Ferrari driver.

“C’mon, you’re seriously not gonna tell me? It’ll make you feel better, trust me” Carlos pushed, and he hesitated before answering.

“I don’t know. I barely know what’s wrong myself” Carlos gives him a look, and he sighs before continuing.

“It’s just weird with Y/n lately. I don’t know but the entire weekend’s just been weird”

“Why? Because she’s hanging out with Logan?”

“How did you-”

“Lando, it’s not that hard to notice, and it’s not that hard to notice why you don’t like it” The Spaniard nudges him, looking at him with a mischievious glint in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“You like Y/n, so you don’t like her hanging around with Logan” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“What’re you talking about? I don’t like Y/n, she’s my best friend, that’s ridiculous” Lando makes a face. That makes no sense, of course I don’t have feelings for Y/n.

“Yeah, and the Haas is going to win tomorrow. Lando, I told you, you can trust me. Just admit it, cabrón”

“Admit what? I don’t like her, I told you that” Lando insists, because he doesn’t. There’s no way.

“Okay mate, whatever you say” Carlos says, putting his hands up in surrender and moving towards the Ferrari garage. “Let me know how that ‘not liking my best friend thing goes’”

Lando just shakes his head and sighs. Carlos has no idea what he’s talking about.

Qualifying turns out to be the thing Lando needs to get his mind off everything; he qualifies P6 with Oscar right behind him and confidence in his car for tomorrow. The man spends some extra time going over the data from today with the strategists and leaves the track just after sunset to head back to his hotel.

He wasn’t completely lying to you yesterday night; the heat was having a bit of an effect on him, and it was probably a good idea to relax and stay in for the night. He ordered something from room service that his trainer would approve of and took a shower before climbing into bed.

A knock on his door is the thing that stops Lando from falling asleep.

It’s past 10, no one should be knocking at his door, but that’s not good enough of a reason to ignore the person, so he gets up to answer it and should probably be more surprised that’s it you.

“Not here to collect team secrets for tomorrow, are you?” Lando questions, jokingly.

“I don’t think we need anymore help beating you McLarens, thank you” You play along with a laugh.

“I’m offended. I hope you have an apology along to go with whatever that it” He gestures to the bag in your hands, and you nod.

“I do, but you’ll have to let me in first to get either” Your best friend moves aside to let you into his room and onto his couch.

“Seriously though, what’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just felt bad for ditching you today and figured I could make up for it with ice cream” You shrugged, opening up the bag and holding a container covered in frost.

“I appreciate the gesture Y/n, but we both know our trainers-” You cut him off. “Would kill us if we eat this, I know. That’s why I only bought one, so we could just share and have half. That way it’s not really eating an ice cream sundae, it’s just eating a scoop and a half”

“I like your thinking”

“That’s why you keep me around” You both smile, and Lando gets up to get two spoons.

“You don’t have to be sorry, by the way. It doesn’t bother me that you went out with Logan” He knows you must’ve felt really guilty, because you’re still wearing the clothes you wore in the paddock, meaning you went immediately from wherever Logan took you to straight to get the ice cream and come here, despite the fact you should be in bed and it would be chaos if someone found out you were here this late Saturday night.

He also knows you wouldn’t do this for just anyone.

“I know. I still felt bad though” You shrug, thanking him before taking a spoonful of ice cream.

“Don’t be. Where’d he take you, anyway?” Lando questions. He knows that if he was talking about this any time else, he feel that sourness all over again. But there was no reason to if you were right here beside him.

“Nowhere special; we just walked around, shopped a bit, and stopped to get some food before we realized we should probably head back to our hotels”

“And aren’t you having the same realization now?” He asks, taking another spoon of ice cream.

“Yeah, but I’m not worried enough to the point where I’m actually gonna do it” You explain, and Lando laughs.

“So what? I’m stuck with you for the rest of the night then?”

“You say it like you don’t totally love the idea” You smile playfully.

“You’re right, I’d rather you here with me than anywhere else”

“Me too” The man misses your soft gaze and love-sick smile.

Truthfully, Lando just likes when you’re with him in general.

It was the Austria GP and for the first time in a while, Lando Norris felt a little carefree. He had over two weeks to recover from Canada, the next round was his home race, and things were looking positive for Sunday. He was happy with racing, and he was happy with you too.

Ever since Miami, you two have been closer than usual; fans were used to seeing you guys always together, but this time, they really never saw you without seeing Lando, and Lando without seeing you. Both of you seemed oddly smiley recently and it didn’t go without notice. Even more than usual, it was like you and Lando were in your own weird little obliviously-in-love bubble that nothing could break through.

Maybe that was why you and Lando finished P4 and P5, each of you one place away from a repeat of Bahrain. It obviously wasn’t your best finishes you two have ever had, but it was good enough for there to be a celebration afterwards. The drivers you and Lando were closest to also finished high in the points, and before you knew it, you had agreed to attending the after-party happening in a few hours at the nearest club.

You put on some makeup, fixed your hair, changed into a beautiful outfit, and stuffed your purse with your essentials before you got a text from Lando telling you that he was outside. You insisted that you could drive yourself and he didn’t need to pick you up, but Lando persisted, saying that it was stupid to bring two cars incase you weren’t fit to drive at the end of the night, and had to leave your very expensive car on the street all night.

“You look gorgeous, it almost makes up for the ridiculous amount of time I’ve spent waiting here for you” Lando says with a smirk as you open the door to his car.

You roll your eyes through your blush. “It wasn’t that long. Besides, my room’s on a high floor, it was the elevator’s fault.” You reason, clicking your seatbelt into place before Lando pulls out of the hotel parking lot and onto the streets.

“Yeah sure, blame the machinery because it’s never your fault you’re late”

“It’s not!” You insist with a laugh. He hums sarcastically in response, turning on the radio and letting it fill the comfortable silence

The streets in front of the club are lined with dozens of high-end cars, so you and Lando are forced to park nearly a block away from the entrance. The bouncer lets the two of you in without hesitation, and even from outside, you can hear the bass from the speakers inside.

The interior is exactly how you expected it to be, colorful strobe lights from overhead, music that you have to shout to hear someone over, and a dance floor that’s packed to the brim with celebrities, drivers, and everyone in between.

You and Lando claim the nearest booth to the exit, and he leans in close enough to be audible. “I’m going to get us a few drinks, try and see if you can find a few people” You nod, and the two of you go off in different directions.

You manage to locate Alex, Lily, George, and Carmen in a booth together and after a few very loud greetings, manage your way through the mob again to find Lando and lead him back to your friends. You all start talking and laughing, placing bets on which drivers are going home with a mystery girl, which ones are going to get black-out drunk, and which ones are going to show off their embarrassingly bad drunk dance moves in front of everyone.

Drinks and shots get handed out, a few more drivers join your table, and soon enough, you and your group are somewhere between tipsy and drunk and are moving onto the already-packed dance floor. Lando moved up to the DJ, telling you he’d be back to dance soon, and left you with your fellow drivers and their girlfriends.

You spend a few hours dancing with the girls, giggling through your drinks, and wandering around the club in search for more friends. At the point where your vision starts to got a bit blurry and the music is making your head hurt, you feel a hand on your shoulder and a familiar voice in your ear.

“Hey stranger!” Lando shouts, turning you around to face him.

“Lando!” You call out loudly, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “Missed you” Alcohol made you a bit affectionate.

“Only been gone an hour and a half, love” Even though you can’t see his face and you’re not at your sharpest, you know he’s got a dumb smirk on his face.

“Missed you too, though” He says, taking the drink out of your hand and taking a sip before wrapping his hands around your waist.

“Are you here to dance with me?” You pull back, looking into his eyes. His pupils aren’t dilated, so you know he’s sober and the designated driver for the night.

“Wouldn’t want to do anything else” Even though everyone else around you is dancing at a fast, eager pace, you and Lando keep your arms wrapped around each other, bodies swaying softly, heads laying on each other’s shoulders.

Even with the flashing lights and booming music, you probably could’ve drowsed off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realize how much time has passed but at some point, Lando taps your arm and pulls away from you.

“Time to go home, I think” He says, placing his hands on your shoulders to get you to focus on him.

“You think?” You reply, both drowsy and a little drunk.

“I think so. I’m gonna see if anyone else needs a ride and say goodbye, then we’ll leave, okay?” Lando tells you, intertwining your hands together before leading you further onto the dancefloor.

The Brit finds the other drivers and does what he said before handing you your purse and guiding you out of the club, hands still held together. Your best friend hands you his jacket to wear and places his arm around your waist as the two of you walk back to the car.

You know that Lando will get you back to your hotel and to your room where he’ll take your heels off for you. You know he’ll place a glass of water and a few Aspirins’ on a nightstand for you and lay down underneath the duvet with you because he’s too tired to drive back to his own hotel.

You’ll know you two will fall asleep almost immediately, and wake up closer than you were laying last night. You know Lando will not mind doing any of this, will actually like it, because you don’t let him take care of you as much as he’d like.

You know all of these things and a lot of other stuff too, you just don’t know that the person you did it all with is the person you’re in love with, or that he’s in love with you too.

+ 1

Lando always appreciated the summer break after half a season of racing, but there was something special about this one that made him wish it would never end.

You, Lando, and a group of your mutual friends planned a week-long trip to an island in the Caribbean as ‘one last hurrah’ before you two had to fly to Zandervort for the second half of the season. It was your fourth day on the island, and even though every moment since you arrived has been filled with some sort of fun and exciting adventure, this was already your favorite day of the trip.

You and Lando had connecting rooms, ‘a complete coincidence’ as your friends had put it, and this morning, you two decided to take advantage of it and make breakfast together. You weren’t supposed to meet with the others until a few more hours, and you loved cooking with Lando, so shortly after you woke up you made the short journey into his room.

“Morning,” your best friend greeted you, clad in black sweats and an old T-shirt you’ve seen millions of times. “I bought pancake mix from the store in the lobby, but we can run out and get something else if you like?”

“No, it’s okay,” you insist, “pancakes are fine. Besides, I know you make the best ones.”

“I know, you must be so jealous” Lando smirks, grabbing a mixing bowl and pan from the hotel’s kitchenette cabinet.

“Totally. So what’s on our agenda today?” You say, moving around him to take ingredients from the fridge.

“Not much, actually. I think we’re just going to the beach and walk around the town a bit” You nod as you grab your phone and click on the shared playlist between yourself and Lando.

You let the music fill the comfortable silence as the two of you move around the small kitchen. It’s a beautiful and all-too domestic scene; the morning sun streaming through the windows, the soft music in the background, the way you both seamlessly know your way around the kitchen, how easy it was to work around each other. They’re the facts your mind notices too quickly, and it’s hard to stop your brain from thinking about a future where things could be like this everyday.

Within a few minutes, you each had a reasonably-sized stack of pancakes that you brought outside onto the balcony with you. You settle into the adjacent chairs that look out to the waves crashing onto the beach and deep blue ocean. It’s still early; this part of the island isn’t awake yet, and it’s easy to relax in the still quiet.

While you shooed away the image of the future like this, Lando welcomed it with open arms. He thought how effortless it would be to make a scene like this; a hotel room, an apartment in Monaco, a house in the UK, Lando would take either and all of them. As long as you came with it.

His mouth speaking before his brain can control it. “I wish it was like this forever” He blurts out.

“You don’t want to go back to racing?” You look over at him, eyebrows furrowed. He doesn’t look back at you, keeps his eyes on the view in front of him instead.

“No, I do. I mean-” Lando pauses, thinks it over. He gets up from his chair to lean on the railing, his back facing you. This could ruin everything, he thinks. If he says it, he can’t go back, and nothing will be the same again.

He stops thinking.

“I mean with you. I honestly don’t care where we are; racing, on an island, whatever. We could be on another planet for all I care. As long as it’s just you and me, I think I could handle it” He finishes, feeling your presence next to him a few moments later, your shoulders brushing.

“Really?” You ask, eyes widened. You would’ve never thought he felt the same.

“Really. I’ve always felt that way” Then he’s looking you in that way, the way everyone’s been trying to explain to you for a while.

You don’t second-guess yourself when you put your hands around his face and press your lips onto his, and especially not when he starts moving his lips against yours. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, and you don’t think you’d be mad if this was your forever.

You two finally pull away from each other, and even though the waves on the beach are still the same waves and the ocean is still the same deep blue, you think that everything changed just a little bit.

You’re still so close you could probably count his eyelashes if you wanted to, and you smile.

“I love you”

His smile mirrors yours the second after he hears it. “I love you too”

You two don’t really have to tell people; everyone figures it out within the first five minutes of being around both of you. Everyone teases you relentlessly, but internally, they’re just glad the two of you finally saw what’s been there all along.

i think this is really bad, so if u see it one moment and then don’t the next, it’s because I deleted it. i also never really know how to end these. anyways, a lando fic to make up for the time i’ve been gone. sorry about that btw, i got major imposter syndrome and the lack of f1 content makes for a lack of motivation. this is also my first ln4 fic, and i have no idea what to expect from it. hope u enjoyed tho 🫶

#reader insert #formula 1 #driver reader #f1 imagine #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #female driver reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x female driver reader #3+1 #slow burn #oblivious characters

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mindmelter · 2 months

Text

The Body Wearing Convention - Las Vegas

The BWA (Body Wearing Alliance) was formed 20 years ago when the internet was just starting to get popular. Those born with the rare ability of reducing people into wearable skins didn't knew there was more like them out there, but with the help of the internet they started to find others with the same ability, and soon it was created the BWC (Body Wearing Convention)

The Body Wearing Convention is a clandestine event that happens a few times every year, hidden from the prying eyes of the public, It is a secret event where they can gather, share stories, and find solace in the knowledge that they aren't alone in their power.

The BWC happens in a different country every time, for safety reasons, and the main two rules to participate in the convention is: To be a Skinwalker (That's how they call themselves) and to wear the body of a local from that place, that means you can't bring with yourself skins from home.

Currently the secret Alliance is made up of 130 men around the world. But among these 130 members, there are 10 men who are very close friends with each other, they all share one thing in common: They are all gay.

Surprisingly they are the only gay guys of the entire Alliance, while all the others sought power and money, these 10 friends only care about getting hard in a new sexy body, It was like a sport for them. That's why they created an online group chat, where they can talk and share pictures of their current bodies with each other.

The location of the BWC this time is: USA - Las Vegas.

The 10 friends all arrived individually at the city in an early Friday, the convention would occur during the weekend, so they had to find a new skin quickly, and so they went straight on a hunt for a random local body.

Think of the BWC as the Met Gala, but for people who can turn you into a wearable hollow fleshsuit in a blink. There was this unspoken competition among them, to see who was wearing the hottest or richest skin, and this group of friends clearly didn't care about the last one...

_______________________________________

Carl is a 46 years old married gay man, he is part of the BWA for 17 years, and there is nothing Carl love more than wearing the bodies of fit straight guys. His husband knows he's a skinwalker and is totally fine with it. But because his husband is not a skinwalker, he is not allowed to go to the conventions, so Carl always travels alone.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:19 AM) Carl Sent A Photo

Carl: I just turned this hot Latino stud in the hotel parking lot. He was walking towards his car while talking on the phone with his girlfriend. That's when I slowly walked behind him and turned him. What do you guys think? Do I wear him well?

Harold: You're looking so hot. You always pick the most hottest guys.

Elijah: Wow, you already found a body? That was fast.

Joel: He's not that impressive, I would give him a 6/10 lol

Elijah: Stop being a jerk Joel. This guy is clearly a 9/10

Carl: Don't mind him Elijah, he's just jealous of my pick.

Joel: He's not really my type, today I'm looking for a sexy tough looking guy to wear.

Peter: Hot choice of skin Carl! Show us his dick please!

Carl: You will have to wait until the Convention to see it. But i'm telling you, he's really big and thick, I know you're gonna love sucking it.

_______________________________________

David is 34 years old and he is part of the BWA for 13 years.

He first found out about his ability when his homophobic stepbrother was trying to beat him up, David closed his eyes and tried to protect his head, but when he opened his eyes, he saw his hot stepbrother lying on the floor completely deflated. David had the most fun years living the life of his douchebag of a stepbrother, until one day, his stepbrother just "disappeared"

(Friday, March 1st. 9:46 AM) David Sent A Photo:

David: I made two new bodysuits. I saw the handsome blond one at the hotel's pool, he was trying to seduce some girls by showing off his hot body, he just didn't knew he was actually seducing a skinwalker. To get him, I first had to convert this cute room service attendant, after I put him on, I got access to his room and walked inside. I think I'm going to use the attendant tonight for some fun.

Elijah: Oh, the good old room service method. It works every time.

David: It was you who taught me this method back in 2011 when I was still a new member of the BWA.

Damian: It brings back good memories from that one time where we all stayed at the same hotel in the 2011 Convention. Good times.

_______________________________________

Peter Is a 40 years old gay bottom who love to turn big hunky men into Bodysuits and act like a slut in their bodies. He is part of the Body Wearing Alliance for 9 years.

(Friday, March 1st. 11:28 AM) Peter Sent A Photo:

Peter: Do I look cute? This is Ramón, I turned him at an alley while he was jogging, he's a bodybuilder. I'm gonna make such a good use of his muscles. I'm sure you guys are going to love the muscles in his ass the most.

Joel: I love how you always pick the most biggest guys.

Daniel: I feel bad for this poor bastard, of all the Skinwalkers, he was picked by the most perverted one.

Peter: lol

Carl: He's huge. I'm going to enjoy burying my new thick latino dick in your bodybuilder's ass.

Harold: I really like his pecs. I want to suck on them when we meet tomorrow.

Peter: It's always the pecs for you isn't, Harold? lol

Harold: You're not lying. Actually I just saw this hot guy at the mall and he seems to have very big pecs. I'm going to follow him.

_______________________________________

Harold is a 28 years old scrawny gay man, he has no muscle definition, but he love pecs and it was what he first looked for in a body: Their huge pecs. If the guy didn't had two big meaty pecs, he wound't want them.

He went to the local LA mall to hunt for a body, he knew that the mall was always the perfect place for hunting skins. And he was proven just right when he saw this big and tall hunk walk inside a clothing store. Harold smirked as he entered the store and followed the man.

(Friday, March 1st. 1:05 PM) Harold Sent A Photo:

Harold: Who want some milk boys? Daddy got all the milkers now.

Peter: Oh my god, look at the size of these tits. I will let you suck on Ramón's tits if you let me suck yours.

Harold: This sounds like a good deal.

Carl: Very nice choice of skin! Good job, Harold.

Peter: Can you send a video of you playing with those hairy tits and pinching his nipples? Please?

(1:15 PM, Harold Sent A 20 Seconds Video To The Group Chat)

In the vídeo he was in the middle of the store, squeezing his new pair of meaty hairy pecs, he lifted one of them and let go, watching them bounce, then he pinched his left nipple and let out a deep loud moan. Without feeling any shame for being in a public space. It wasn't technically him who was being humiliated in public, so he didn't cared.

_______________________________________

Damian and Rashad are a black gay couple (47, 49) they have been together for 11 years and they both had met each other during a Body Wearing Convention back in 2013. It was very known to everyone that they only turned white men into Bodysuits, it was their favorite type of skins. So there was no diversity in their Bodysuit closet, only white men.

(Friday, March 1st. 3:07 PM) Damian Sent A Photo:

Damian: You guys know how Rashad and I love to hunt white boys, so what better place to find some white skins than at the LA beach? We saw this group of young frat boys surfing and we converted these two 19 years olds, they were just the most handsome ones in their group. Turns out they are twin brothers.

David: This is such a hot pair, and the fact they are brothers makes it even more hot!

Carl: I want to fuck the long haired one with my thick latino dick while I pull his hair.

Damian: I like this Idea. His long hair would be great to use as a handle for a hard fuck. I might even try It later tonight.

David: Send us a video if you do.

_______________________________________

Joel is the youngest one of the group, at only 19 he already has a count of 86 Bodysuits, and he's part of the Body Wearing Alliance for only 1 year. That's why, the BWA leader tasked Elijah, a veteran in the art of wearing bodies, to watch for Joel and not let the young man expose their secret society.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:14 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: My new bodysuit is still deflating. I can't wait to finally wear him and show him to you guys. He's so hot.

Carl: You gave my bodysuit a 7/10, so he better be a 10/10.

Isaac: Wow he's packing.

Harold: When he deflate, please send us a pic of you in him. I want to see if his front looks as good as his back side.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:40 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: I'm inside him now. I saw this sexy daddy at the hotel's bar. I waited for him to go to his room and then I followed him, as soon as he opened the door I converted him, right there at the door's entrance, I mean, of course he took a bit longer to deflate, so I had to drag him inside. I actually wanted to wear a scary looking soldier that I saw at the bar, but Elijah didn't let me. Still, I'm very glad with my pick.

Harold: Holly fuck!!!

Peter: He's a very sexy bodysuit. Wish I was there to give him a very special room service.

Carl: Where is Elijah by the way? Should he not be with you?

Joel: Elijah Is outside, I don't know where he went, but he said he was going to be back soon.

Carl: Did he picked a bodysuit already?

Joel: Yes he did, a young and hot fuckboy. Let me send a pic of him.

Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: This is the body Elijah picked to wear at the convention tomorrow. I think he got this one at the hotel's bathroom maybe? I'm not sure. I hope he don't mind that I'm wearing his brand new skin.

Elijah: Boy, you're in big trouble!

Joel: Shit, I'm sorry, I thought you wouldn't mind. I'm gonna take him off.

Elijah: Don't you dare taking him off, I'm not going to wear him anymore, I found a better body to wear tomorrow. wait for me, I'm getting up there right now.

(Friday, March 1st. 6:22 PM) Elijah Sent A Photo:

Elijah: You don't want to disobey me in my new body, boy, so you better be on your knees when I get inside, I'm horny and this guy have big balls full of cum.

Joel: Yes sir!

Peter: Oh yes sir indeed!

Carl: lol you're fucked Joel.

_______________________________________

Isaac is a 24 years old gay man, and like everyone else in this group, he was addicted to wearing hunky men. He is more reserved and shy, and don't talk much in the group chat. However, he enjoys jerking off while viewing the photos his friends would send to the group chat.

He might be the most shy and reserved in the group, but once he's wearing a handsome hunk, he becomes a whole new different person, a more dominant and cocky one.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:37 PM) Isaac Sent A Photo:

Isaac: Seeing you guys wearing such hot bodies is getting me so freaking hard. I can't wait for tomorrow. I got this one at the gym's lockerroom. Who wants to take care of my boner?

Peter: I do! I want to get on my knees in Ramón's body and let you use his slutty mouth.

Harold: You're looking so damn hot, Isaac, good pick.

Carl: Was you working out? Your skin looks very sweaty.

Isaac: I was. I wanted to test out my new muscles.

Carl: Great. Can't wait for the convention tomorrow, where we can finally see each other's bodies in person and have the orgy of the year.

#bodysuit

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croimilis · 2 years

Text

The Arrangement

title: the arrangement

characters: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x doctor!mitchell!reader (rooster calls them angel)

words: 20k +

themes: childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fake dating (minor), fluff, , smut, mutual pinning, idiots not realising they’re in love

rating: 18+

warnings: female identifying reader and female anatomy used, mentions of parental and canon character death, panic attacks, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), rooster has a lieutenant kink, rooster in dress whites, praise kink, unprotected sex, scratching, biting, cream pie, overstimulation

summary: 'he laughed, my darling you will never be unloved by me you are too well tangled in my soul' @atticuspoetry

You and rooster made an arrangement when you were 18 years old, that if either of you needed a date to an event and you were both single you would be each others date, you try your best to be at every celebration and ceremony for your education and respective careers. you managed to keep this up for a while, but the life of a doctor and the life of a navy aviator never seem to line up and suddenly you find yourself not only cities but countries away from one another and the arrangement falls to the background of your minds that is until you move to San Diego and Rooster finds himself calling on your arrangement one last time.

a/n: this ended up being sooo long and i am (not) sorry about it, i got so carried away with it. also this is the dress i imagined when writing this. also, i don’t consistently refer to Rooster as Bradley or Rooster in this, it switches so often. i also apologise if the smut is bad, i don’t write it often. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT this is an 18+ piece, I will be checking blogs that interact so please have an age indicator somewhere on your blog. this is part of the ‘fly me to the moon universe’

Rooster was sure the world stopped the minute you walked through the doors behind your father, it had been over 10 years since he had last seen you and yet he knew it was you instantly. If anybody asked, he would say it was your eyes that gave you away as being (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell. The same emerald green as your father, full of life and happiness as they crinkled at the sides when you smiled at Penny across the bar, giving your soon to be step mother a wave as your father guided you through the crowd and straight towards the group of aviators that made up the dagger squadron.

Realising your destination, Rooster's heart began to beat erratically as he stood from his bent position where he had been planning on taking his shot at the pool table, causing a confused look and a 'dude' from Hangman. Out of all the ways he had imagined and dreamed about reuniting with you, he never would have imagined it happened in Fightertown, never mind at the Hard Deck.

Yet here you are, getting closer and closer and he swears his heart is gonna beat straight out of his chest. You're beautiful, you always had been but what had once been a soft and innocent beauty when you were younger and never knew a life without Bradley had turned into sharp edges and maturity as you found what it meant to be your own person without him. He was awestruck to put it lightly as his eyes stalked you through the bar until you were standing just at the other end of the pool table, Mavericks arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder as he made introductions.

“Everybody this is my daughter, Dr (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell.” With a smile you rolled your eyes at your father's insistence on using your title, he was very proud of everything you accomplished in your life and career and while he very rarely actually used the words ‘I’m proud of you’ he always made sure to show it when he showed you off to other people. “Please call me (Y/N/N)”

With pleasant smiles and shaking hands everyone introduced themselves, though you had heard about all of them so many times you were sure you could pick out each and everyone member of the dagger squad by name if you tried. Your eyes moved over them all the same as they introduced themselves, taking in their features and finally putting faces to names. Maverick was the absolute worst at having pictures on his phone, preferring to keep a hard copy of photos in his hanger and you were never around the hanger anymore, much to busy with your own life that you could only really talk to your father over the phone, especially considering he was usually on the other side of the country or world. But maybe now that dagger squad had become a permanent fixture at Top Gun for whenever they were needed and you had taken a job in San Diego (that Mav was still completely unaware of) you would see the old man a little more.

Your eyes finally made their way to the other side of the pool table where the WSO Bob sat with a small smile on his face as he introduced himself, finally your eyes met with Roosters and he swears he nearly melted at the sight, at the friendliness and tenderness towards him that remained after all these years, and your smile. God your smile still made him weak at the goddamn knees and he silently curses to himself about how you still have such an effect on him and how he should be over his silly childhood crush. “Bradley”

Walking around the pool table, Rooster gladly opens his arms for you as you unwrap your father from your shoulder and meet him in the middle, wrapping your arms around his torso as he wraps his around your shoulders, placing a kiss to your forehead as he does. It was comforting, to the both of you, it was something he always did before you grew apart, when you were still an everyday presence in each other's lives. You had missed it. It had been far too long since you had even spoken to each other, never mind seeing each other. “Hey angel.”

The familiarity of the nickname warms you from the inside, or maybe that was just the heavy radiating of Bradley as he held you in his arms. Or maybe it was the flush slowly spreading up your body and making its way to your face as you relish in how nice it feels to be held by him once again, or maybe it is because you're thinking about just how handsome Bradley had become since you last saw him.

He had always had a bit of boyish charm about him, that cheeky smile he usually sported that was so similar to that of his fathers always drew the ladies in when he was turned their way pair that with the fact that he was always athletic and fit and you had a deadly combination that turned Rooster into quite the heart throb when he was younger. But now, you swear he's never looked better, even as he sports that ridiculous mustache he started growing when he was in college, all rugged muscles and that same charming smile alongside the new air of confidence and maturity that was unrecognizable to you.

Never one to have a moment taken from him, the voice of Hangman forces the two of you to seperate, though you still stand close to one another. “How long you in town for?” With a gentle chuckle you cross yours arms over your chest and appraise but your father and Bradley before you answered, they both looked expectant. You had told your father you were in Fighter town for around 2 weeks but had yet to drop the bombshell that you were relocating to San Diego permanently.

“Well I’m in Fighter town for the next 2 weeks, staying at an air bnb close to the base.” You eyed your father as he sent you a small glare, he didn’t know you were coming and so he couldn’t insist on you staying with him and Penny and that was deliberate not only did you want to surprise him but you wanted your own space, somewhere you could retreat too if need be and have some time to yourself because you were sure that every moment he could your father would be at your side to make up for not only the time he missed as an adult but the time he missed out on when you were a kid. “But after that…I am permanently relocating to San Diego.”

You had to bite your lip to stop the giggle that tickled your throat as both Bradley and Maverick whipped their heads round to stare at you, mouths and eyes wide with shock. “(Y/N) (M/N) Florence-Mitchell!” You had to giggle at your dad’s tone as you turned to look at him with innocent eyes and a small smirk, “Yes?” Though Mav tried his hardest to look stern and serious, ready to scold you for not telling him, he can’t help but smile at the fact that you weren’t going to be so far away now.

“What?” Now you turned to Bradley, who’s shocked expression had lessened a little but you could tell from the pinch of his brows and the down turn of his lips that he was still confused. “I wanted to surprise my dad, that was the whole purpose of this trip. Safe to say I surprised him. But I uh, I got offered head of the ED and trauma at one of the hospitals in San Diego a few weeks back and I accepted it. Spent the last few weeks sorting out a place to live and getting ready to move, I start there in 3 weeks.”

Strong arms wrap around you as Maverick brings you into a tight hug with a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. “That's amazing news kid.” As he lets you go, your eyes meet with Bradley’s and you smile at him, which he reciprocates before turning to Phoenix who pulls his attention away from you and back to the pool game they were playing.

Though now he was playing much worse than he was before, he was sloppy as his eyes followed you as you flitted between the crowd of aviators getting to know everyone and he was sure Phoenix would kick his ass in the morning for making them lose against the tag-team of Hangman and Coyote but he couldn’t bring himself to care, though she wasn’t really going to catching onto the love sick look on her friends face the minute he caught sight of you. All he cared about was the fact that you were here and even when you left you would only be 30 minutes away from him and he was determined to not let you slip out of his life once again.

------

The next time Bradley sees you is three days later, not that he’s counting or anything, and the squad are on the beach playing some dog fight football to relax after a grueling training session with Maverick. You had been at the Hard Deck with Penny and Amelia looking at some bridesmaid dresses for the pair of you to wear at the upcoming wedding of Penny and Maverick, your eyes occasionally moving from the laptop in front of you down the beach to where they were playing. You had to admit it was quite the sight and you just couldn’t help yourself from watching, I mean who could blame you.

The sight of the 12 aviators, excluding Hondo and Mav who were now sitting on the sidelines enjoying just watching their squad enjoy themselves, shirtless and sweaty would make even a nun stop and stare. But your eyes were on one particular aviator and his on you, it seemed that every time you looked over his eyes were already on you, a smirk on his face as he sends a wink your way that has you rolling your eyes everytime.

“So… you and Rooster.” Penny’s voice pulls you away from your staring and you turn to her with a questioning look that she rolls her eyes at with a scoff. “Oh come on (Y/N), I’m not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other, you can’t tell me there’s nothing there.”

With a gentle huff, you fold your arms and place them on the table in front of you, pushing your laptop forward slightly as you do, “There is nothing there Penny. He was my best friend for 23 years and then we drifted apart, him busy becoming one of the best naval pilots currently serving and me busy becoming the best doctor I could.” A soft hmm falls from Penny’s lips, one that perfectly conveys a very sarcastic ‘I believe you’, “Are you sure about that? You didn’t see the way his entire face lit up when he saw you in the Hard Deck the other day, I swear that boy looked like he was on cloud 9 the minute he held you in his arms,”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head at your step mother and tell her once again that there is nothing romantic about your relationship with Bradley. At least now anyway, but you would never tell her about the fact you’re pretty sure you were in love with him in college. “Bullshit.” Eyes widening in shock, you turn to Amelia with your mouth open and she at least looks a little bashful about her outburst obviously not meaning to say it out loud as her cheeks flush a little and her mouth gapes a little.

“Sorry,” her eyes flit to her mother, expecting to be scolded but Penny is simply watching her with amusement in her eyes, “but it’s true.” Leaning forward in her chair, Amelia places her head in her palm as her eyes flit between you and the aviators on the beach. “Look, I know I’m only a teenger and I know nothing about relationship and being in love and all that adult stuff” at the words ‘adult stuff’ she uses air quotes that makes you let out a small chuckle, “but Rooster looks at you the same way Mav looks at Mom, and from the photos I’ve seen the way Goose looked at your aunt Carole.”

Moving to look down the beach once again, you smile as you see the aviators carrying Bob about on their shoulders with a small chant of his name, Rooster is once again looking at you and this time you give him a small wave and a smile as he offers you a salute in return. Behind your back, Penny and Amelia share a knowing glance and a smile seeing how completely fucking gone you were for Bradley Bradshaw. “Why don’t you go bring them down some bears to cool them off? Maybe you and Rooster can talk a little.”

Though you rolled your eyes, knowing Penny was simply scheming, you did as she suggested, pilling some beer into a cooler she had on hand and carrying it down the beach to where your dad and the rest of the squad sat as they took a breather. Placing a kiss to your dad’s cheek as he turned his head towards you and greeted you with a gentle ‘hey honey’ you smile at the aviators as you set the cooler on the sand as you announce your presence to the rest of the group. “I bring gifts”

You’re meet with a chorus of thanks and greetings, and of course a flirty remark from Hangman who got hit up the side of the head thanks to Phoenix who had planted herself next to the Texan which caused you to let out a laugh as you bent down to open up the cooler and begin handing out the cold beers, and soda for Bob. As you go to hand Rooster one he smiles at you and instead of taking the beer from you, offers his hand out, palm facing up as if asking to take your hand, “Walk with me angel?”

You nod your head gently and place the bear back in the cooler, placing your freehand in his to allow him to guide you through the lounging aviators that were lying haphazardly across the sand. Though Rooster’s hand was sweaty, you had to admit to yourself that you enjoyed the few seconds in which your hand was clasped in his. It reminded you of simpler times, walking to school hand-in-hand as your mothers walked behind the two of you, playing with his fingers as you lay on his bed as he lamented about the most recent girl whose heart he broke by telling them he wasn’t interested, and even of less simple times where you would hold onto his hand in the hospital waiting rooms as his mom's health began to decline, and him holding yours the day you got the call that your mom had been in a major accident involving a drunk driver and he drove you all the way from Virginia to your home town, holding onto one another at the funerals of both Carole and your mother as if you were the last people you both had in the world, and in a way you were. While Maverick was very much present in your life now as an adult, growing up he was never really around throwing himself into missions and detachments to distract from the pain of losing Goose, you saw him at holidays and birthdays and got a few letters through the year if you were lucky, but you really only had your mom, your aunt Carole, and Bradley until you were an adult.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Rooster’s voice cut through your thoughts and you let out a soft little ‘hmm’ as you came back to reality and looked over to him, ignoring the fact that his hand was still in yours despite it no longer needing to be, “I lost you there for a second angel, where’d you drift of to?”

You gave him a sad smile and looked out to the ocean as you walked, “Just thinking about how the last time I held your hand was my mom’s funeral.” He let out a soft ‘oh’ and gave your hand a soft squeeze as you turned round to face him once again. “And about how much I’ve missed you B.”

You always knew you missed Bradley, he had been such a constant in your life with your mom and aunt Carole being best friends that bought houses right next to each other and were basically co-parents for the pair of you growing up and by the point you were in high school the two of you were attached at the hip, only really seen without the other when in classes you didn’t share together, hell, you even ended up at the same college as one another when the time came.

So when you slowly faded out of each other's lives it was like you slowly lost a part of yourself, you always found yourself wanting to turn to Rooster whenever anything important happened. Like when you did your first solo surgery during your internship in Seattle, or when you meet the guy you thought you were gonna marry only for him to turn round and break your heart, though if you were being honest you weren’t as upset about that as you should have been, or even to tell him about the little things in life like the day you went to the pound with a friend and ended up coming home with a little scruff ball of a dog who turned out to be part german shepherd and grew up with the size to prove it.

Even after 10 years, you still found yourself thinking ‘I should tell Bradley about this’ and then getting disheartened when you realise, you can’t. You had no real way of contacting him, you knew you could reach out to Maverick but that felt like crossing a line, a complete invasion of privacy, and even if you did reach out to Maverick he would only really know roughly where he was but not how to contact him, and it broke you over and over again. But seeing him, it hit you like a ton of bricks just how much you missed him and with the way your heart twisted with the realisation you made sure to take a mental note to not let Penny know or find out because she would have the smuggest grin and ‘I told you so’ mentality about it, seeing him again truly felt like a piece of your soul had been returned to its rightful place.

“I’ve missed you too angel.” If you thought you missed Bradley, he missed you just as much if not more and had spent so many sleepless nights searching you up on social media and google to keep up with your life and see how you were doing. When he was at basic, he tried to write letters, something that he could send you to let you know he was still thinking about you but he couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t articulate just how much he missed you without it sounding far too much like ‘I love you’ and that was not something he wanted to tell you in a letter, that was something he needed to say in person, so he sent nothing instead.

He had saw you at your med-school graduation, smiled you and told you how proud he was of you but he never told you, he apologised for the lack of communication blaming being busy and not having a chance and you did the same, med-school had kicked your ass and meant you just did not have the time to sit down and put thought to paper, or email, to send to him. And then he got deployed and the cycle started again, he would start writing you a letter and then he would trash it because it didn’t like the way it sounded and even the ones he liked never got sent as he lost the nerve and instead stashed them in a box that now lived under his bed, and you started your internship to and communication was run into the ground.

He was just glad you were a social media person, while he wasn’t and rarely posted on any accounts he had, he got to watch your life unfold through the screen. He watched you enter relationships which made his heart twist in pain as he thought about you being with someone that wasn’t him and then he watched those relationships end which hurt even more because he couldn’t be there to comfort like he had been when you were younger. He watched as you moved from Seattle after your internship being offered a position in one of the best trauma centres in the country where you adopted your scruff ball that had been adequately named ‘shaggy’. He watched as you posted photos of you and your dad, though his own relationship with Maverick was in the gutter, he was happy to see yours healing. Happy that you had someone when he wasn’t there.

Now that you were back in his life, he felt like that one piece of the puzzle that had been missing since he enlisted had finally been put back into place, though he would never admit it anyone, especially Phoenix after she interrogated him about your relationship after you had left the Hard Deck that first night, he didn’t want her to have the satisfaction of known that he was in fact, in far too deep with you even after 10 years after he spent so long denying that there was anything romantic between the two of you.

Though your admissions hung heavy around you, as if waiting for one of you to reach out and grab it in an admission of blame of whose fault it was you drifted apart, conversation flowed naturally between the two of you as you caught each other up on the details and events in your lives for the past 10 years, neither one of you wanting to play the blame game though it was heavy on your heads because you both knew you were equally to blame.

As you talked and caught up, you were none the wiser to the lingering gazes of the squad of aviators who sat with either a questioning look or a smug smirk on their faces (Phoenix and Hangman specifically) as one of them voiced the question to Maverick, “What’s going on with those two?”

With a shake of his head, Maverick let out a small sigh and moved his eyes away from the form of his daughter and surrogate nephew as they walked hand in hand along the shore line and to the aviators who had now downed their beers and were getting ready for another round of dogfight football without Rooster. Pushing his aviators back up his nose, Maverick laid back in his lounge chair and shrugged his shoulders, “They were attached at the hip once upon a time, they’re just catching up.”

Though his tone was playful, there was a warning edge to it that warned the others to drop the subject because truthfully even Maverick didn’t know what was going on between the two of you. He knew you were close growing up and you grew apart as adults, something you lamented to him about as you healed your relationship with him after graduating college, but watching you two he could finally see what your mother saw every time you two were together. The undying, unbridled love in each other's eyes that you were too blinded to see, the same kind of love he saw in Carole and Gooses eyes every day. Yeah, Maverick found himself thinking, maybe your mom was right and you were gonna be Mrs.Bradshaw one day.

---

Its 2 weeks later and you’re finally moved into your new place in San Diego, only 30 minutes away from Fightertown on a good day and 60 on a bad day, a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom (1 ensuite, 1 main), bungalow with an open plan living room and kitchen. It was a nice bungalow, sitting right beside the beach and a small garden out your front, the amount of bed rooms meant one could be converted into an office or home gym while the other can be a storage room, maybe changing into a baby room a few years down the line. And it was all yours, after years of renting, you owned your own home and you couldn't be happier.

You had been moved in within 5 days with the help of your father and dagger squad who spent most of their evenings helping you move furniture and unpack everything after it had arrived. Though you were pretty sure they were doing it under the orders of your father, it was nice to have them around. The squad were your dad’s family, which meant by extension they were yours now and it was nice to get to know them. You grew especially close with Siren, Phoenix and Halo, the three happy to have another woman around to break up the testosterone, especially one who could handle Hangman’s ego and kept him and Rooster in line when things started to get heated between them.

Your relationship with Rooster also got better, since that day on the beach where you seemed to walk the entire length of the beach and back as you talked, though you weren’t as close as you were when you were younger, which was physically impossible as he had training and drills every day and you were helping Penny with both wedding planning and in the Hard Deck on busy nights, you were still close.

You were happy to find all the quirks and mannerisms you had memorised still existed, like the way his lip upturned when he was scheming or the how he fiddled with his dog tags when he was nervous or thinking (when you were young he would always fiddle with his dads), turning the metal over his fingers again and again, or how when he was lying he would scratch behind his right ear and his eyebrow would twitch slightly (honestly, it was such a small reaction that most people didn't notice it) everything about him so familiar and it was welcome because it meant he was still your Bradley even after all this time.

Which is why when Rooster walked into your bungalow that night, pizza and beer in his hand with a certain look in his eye, you knew immediately that he wanted something. You watched him carefully with your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against your kitchen sink and he placed the pizza down on your island. He was avoiding your gaze, another nervous habit when he was scared to ask something, instead looking over your kitchen as if he hadn’t been there every night for the past week. With a gentle sigh you moved forward, uncrossing your arms and putting your hands on the island so you were now leaning on it instead.

“Spit it out Bradshaw. What do you want?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Rooster almost looks sheepish as he also leans on the island with his forearm against the cold granite and this only makes you raise an eyebrow at him in a questioning manner.

“You see…” You very rarely saw Bradley struggle to ask for something, especially not from you as there was very little you would say no to him about, now he seemed nervous as if what he was asking would cause you to reach over and slap him across the face. “I, uh, I wanted to call upon our arrangement one last time.”

Now, whatever you were expecting him to say it was certainly not that and the shock was clear on your face as you quite literally stood up straight with wide eyes and your mouth opening and closing. It had been a while since you thought about your arrangement with Bradley, years even as the last time it came into play was your med-school graduation 10 years ago, before everything fell apart. While the arrangement was something the two of you agreed upon almost 20 years earlier as freshly graduated high schoolers, you still remembered it like it was yesterday.

----

It was just after your high school graduation, your mother had organised a small party with a few of your relatives that lived nearby and a few friends from outside of school but you and Bradley snuck away in his old Bronco he had gotten as soon as he got his licence (it was almost the exact same one as Gooses) and you ended up in what you had dubbed ‘your secret spot’. It was a silly name, but it was where the two of you would always go to escape when the world got a little bit too much, either together or alone. After Bradley parked near the large oak tree that took up most of the clearing, you clambered out of the car and laid down the blanket you had brought with you, popping open the champagne you had snuck off one of the tables at the party.

Letting out a content sigh, you plopped yourself down on the blanket, your legs spreading out in front of you as you leaned back on your arms with your head thrown back to look at the stars that decorated the night sky. Your eyes traced over the shapes of the constellations, following them until an image formed in your mind of what they were meant to be. You knew them all, and their stories, that was something your mom had taught you. Bradley settled next to you, one leg propped up so he could lean his arm on it, the other pressing against yours alongside his shoulder as he leaned back on his hand, following you in looking up at the stars.

Bradley never understood your fascination with the stars, you had explained it to him once telling him a story your mom constantly repeated to you about how you would never settle at night unless she took you out to the stars and told you their stories, it seems that even as a baby you found them calming. You told him that even if the world was in chaos and falling apart around you, the stars were always there, they were the one constant in a world where nothing else was and looking at them brought you comfort. But no matter how much you explained it, and how much he said he got it, there was always a part of him that never quite knew what you meant but that never stopped him from listening as you explained the different constellations to him, no matter how many times he had already heard the story.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, passing the bottle of champagne between you quietly, simply revelling in each other's company because you knew things were gonna be different come September time. Sure, you were going to the same college things were going to be different, you were hoping to join a sorority and Bradley was going to try out for the baseball team, you didn’t imagine you would have the same time for each other that you have now given you were never apart for more than an hour or two when you weren’t asleep. Eventually you moved from your sitting positions, instead opting to lie on the blanket, you with your arms on your stomach and Bradley with his arms under his head causing the muscles in his arms to flex and you cursed him for it, finding it hard not to look at him as he did.

“I have a proposition.” Turning your head to look at Bradley with an amused smirk, you see he’s already looking at you with soft eyes and an even softer smile and you raise your eyebrow at him. Bradley turns on his side, using his arm to prop up his head, and you do the same giving him your full attention.

“Go on, you’ve piqued my interest.”

He rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in your voice and lightly shoves your shoulder, just enough that you wobble but not enough that you fall over which causes you to giggle. “Come on, I’m being serious.”

Wiping the smile from your mouth, you put on a fake serious face, “Okay, okay, I’m serious.” Bradley only rolls his eyes again but he doesn’t shove you, instead his free hand starts to play with a loose strand of fabric on the blanket, his eyes casting down to avoid meeting yours as he spoke.

“We make a promise, an agreement, that when we get to college and even after we won’t forget about one another. Like, if one of us has an event or a party, and we’re both single, we go together, if one of us has a ceremony or an award or any sort of celebration we go and support the other.”

His eyes moved up to meet yours, having been scared you were going to tell him no. Tell him that now you were grown you wanted some independence from him, a chance to see who you were without Bradley Bradshaw attached at your hip. But you don’t, instead you reach out your hand, fingers clenched closed with your pinky extended and a small smile on your face.

“I promise B” Bradley reaches out and intertwines your pinky fingers together.

---

And that was the start of your agreement with Bradley Bradshaw that saw him as your date to your first sorority event and you as his to the college baseball formal, it’s what saw you at multiple events together throughout college and saw peoples always asking about if you were dating or not, with some of your sorority sisters commenting on the fact that you were lucky to have him. It was what saw him supporting you when you were given an award by the school for academics and you supporting him when he got MVP three years in a row with the baseball team, it was what had you in the crowd of his graduation from the naval academy and him in the crowd of your med-school graduation. But after you started to drift apart, the agreement fell apart with it and it hadn’t been brought up since. Until now that is

“The arrangement?” Bradley let out a small chuckle and stopped rubbing at his neck, instead now leaning on the island with both arms as his eyes swept across the room, determined not to meet your stare he tried to find something, anything he could focus on instead of you because he was sure he would see rejection in your eyes. Finally, his eyes settled on the photos on your fridge, one of you and your friends on your graduation day, one of you and your dad working on the F-14 he had in his bunker, one of you and Shaggy from shortly after you got him, and one of you and him at your senior year prom.

A small huff passes your lips as you look him up and down, once again crossing your arms over your chest your, “Okay, but I need details first.” Bradley’s eyes snapped from the photos on your fridge to your face as his mouth opened in shock, he was truly expecting you to say no. To tell him to fuck off, that it was a stupid promise made when you were teenagers but here you were agreeing.

“You’re serious?” Rolling your eyes, you leaned forward onto the island once again, this time folding your arms over one another, matching the way Rooster was standing, and you slid forward slightly so your face was just millimetres away from Rooster and you had to stop your eyes from flickering down to his lips and imagining the way they would feel on yours. Rooster was having a similar issue, finding himself forcing his eyes to look into your eyes because he knew if he looked anywhere else he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

“Of course I’m serious, I did pinky promise after all and we both know those are sacred.” With a small smile you suddenly pull back, all too aware of how the heat of his breath against your skin was starting to cause a blush to spread over your cheeks. Quickly you clear your throat and reach for the pizza on the counter, lifting it as you round the island and head towards your living room. Throwing yourself onto the sofa you place the pizza box on the coffee table and reach down to pet Shaggy who is asleep in his bed at the end of the sofa, motioning to the other side of the sofa with your hand, “Now, details.”

Lifting the beer, and a bottle opened, Bradley joins you on the sofa and hands you an open beer, while you’re sat with your back against the arm of the sofa and your legs pulled up to your chest, Bradley leans back, stretches one arm around the back cushions of the sofa and spreads his legs in front of him. Taking a deep swig of beer, he lets out a sigh and runs his hand over his face before he starts to explain.

“An old navy buddy is getting married on Saturday and I was invited to the wedding a while back,” Okay, so far so good, you think to yourself and you let a gentle ‘hmmm’ to let Rooster know you were listening as you took a swig of your own beer, “At the time I was just a guest, but one of his groomsmen has dropped out, well he’s been kicked out but that's another story for another time, so now there’s an uneven number of bridesmaids and groomsmen and the bridesmaids already have their dresses so it would be a complete waste of money to ask one of the bridesmaid to drop out and he doesn’t have any other close friends or family, his brother’s are already part of the grooms party”

“B you’re rambling.” You very rarely saw Bradley rambling, only when he was really really nervous like that time he asked Ashley Stone to be his prom date in junior year or when he confessed to his first college girlfriend.

“Right, sorry. Anyway, he reached out to me and asked if I would be his groomsman, all the other guys are navy men, and I said yes, no problem. The thing is this all went down when I was still seeing that girl, Molly, I was telling you about and I had put down a plus one.”

Realisation hits you and you nod your head along with what he’s saying, “So you want me to be your plus one.” His eyes, which had been staring up at your ceiling, move to your face and he nods slowly, but there’s something in his eyes that tells you that’s not all it is and you let out a small sigh and narrow your eyes at him.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” He nods solemnly and takes another swig of his beer before he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, head turned towards you with an apologetic look on his face.

“I heard Molly was going to be there with her new man, apparently he’s a friend of the brides, and I may have said I was bringing my new girl.” You close your eyes and curse at his stupidity, taking swig of your beer as you rubbed at your temples.

“So you want me to be your date and play pretend as your girlfriend?” It wouldn’t be the first time you had pretended to be his girlfriend, you had done it once or twice in college when he was clearly uncomfortable when someone was flirting with him to chase him off, and he had pretended to be your boyfriend numerous times when some creeps wouldn’t take the hint that you wasn’t interested in them, but that was short bursts. This was going to be an all day thing, and you didn’t know if your heart could take that.

“Pretty much.” Bradley knew it was a lot to ask, it even feel outside the parameters of your agreement and he was sure you were going to turn around any second now and tell him to get lost, that you wouldn’t do it. But as you opened your eyes with a resigned sigh and looked at him, he knew you weren’t going to do that.

“Okay Bradshaw, you got a deal. But…” You were caught off guard by Bradley reaching over and pulling you into a tight embrace, practically putting you onto his lap as he did so as he muttered thank you over and over again into your ear. You hugged him back and let out a gentle chuckle before pulling back, your hands on Bradley’s shoulders as his remained your waist where he had pulled you in.

Your heart picked up in your chest from the contact and you felt heat rush through your body as a blush spread across your cheeks, you didn’t want to pull away any further than you already were, you actually wanted to pull him closer to you and press your lips against his. In fact every muscle in your body was screaming at you to do just that but you didn’t listen, instead letting go of his shoulder and shuffling back to your position on the sofa.

“As I was saying, I need to know details of the wedding. Time, theme, colours, bridesmaid colours, dress code, what you’re wearing.” You ran your hand through your hair, starting to panic a little the more you thought about it, which Bradley saw. He reached a hand out and took the one carding through your hair in his, pulling it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to it and something about the gentle intimacy of it almost stopped your breathing.

“Stop panicking. I will text Mercury, uh, Gerard and ask him anything I don’t know and then I’ll text you. He’s asked all the groomsmen to wear their dress whites so it won’t be hard to match me. I don’t know the theme, the dress code for the reception for the women is princess? I don't actually know, and I don’t know about the colour scheme. But I will find out, I promise.” At Rooster’s words you calm a little, taking a few deep breaths to settle your racing heart before you nod.

“Okay, okay.” He gives you a smile before dropping your hand and reaching over to the coffee table, flipping open the pizza lid and pulling out a slice, handing it to you with a smile, “Now let’s eat before it turns to ice.”

---

Saturday rolls around quicker than you would have liked, you thought you would be over the nerves by now but as the day approached the only seemed to get worse and worse until you felt your chest constricting and your lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves as you struggled to breath. Eyes squeezed tight, your hands gripped onto your island lip with such force that you knew your knuckles were turning white even without looking at them. Your thoughts were spiralling a little, little what ifs that were nothing if not intrusive thoughts like what if Bradley’s doing this to embarrass you? What if he’s doing just to make his ex jealous? What if? What if? What if? They swarmed your mind and you felt like you were beginning to drown.

Suddenly a hand is placed on your arm, slowly rubbing up and down the skin to soothe you and another is placed on your head slowly moving through your hair and you hear voices but they feel a million miles away, distorted by your heartbeat that was thundering in your ears. Slowly you opened your eyes, to see Natasha and Callie looking at you from either side with concern and you could see their mouths move but still couldn't quite make out the sound coming out. Callie removed her hand from your hair and instead used it to guide one of your own to her chest, where you could feel her taking deep long breaths and you tried your best to match the pattern. In for eight seconds, hold for six, out for eight and repeat. Your heart beat started to calm and you could start to make out what the girls at your side were saying.

“That’s it (Y/N)....”

“Nice and easy…”

“You’re okay…”

The tightness in your chest slowly fades, it still lingers but it doesn’t inhibit your breathing anymore, and the rapid beating of your heart slows to a relatively normal rate. Finally, your hands release their grip on the island and you stretch your fingers open and closed to ease the ache that had settled in them. Your eyes move to Natasha, whose hand is still running up and down your arm and then to Callie who stills holds one of your hands against her chest with a small smile and look of appreciation.

“Thank you guys.”

They give you small nods in return, Callie lets go of your hand and instead wraps an arm around your shoulder and brings you into a hug while Natasha threads her fingers through your hand, “No need to thank us,” it was Natasha who spoke, “I’m just glad we arrived when we did.”

Callie let out a soft ‘yeah’ agreeing with her girlfriend, “That looked pretty bad, you okay?” You had told the girls before about having panic attacks, you were at the Hard Deck one night, just the three of you, and some creep was not leaving you alone and you had a little freak out in the bathroom that they witnessed, but it had been a while since you had a full blown attack like the one you just experienced. You were glad the girls arrived then they did as well, you didn’t know how you were going to calm down from that one on your own and it was a gift to have them there grounding you.

With a small nod you pull back from Callie, “Yeah, I’m good now. It’s just one bad thought spiralled into another and another and another and I didn’t know how to pull myself out.” Natasha’s hand moved from your arm to rub at your back softly, knowing your body is probably still pumping with adrenaline, to sooth you further, the looks of concern remained but their lips turned up into soft smiles. They knew you were nervous about the whole thing, having lamented to them your nerves and fears when you went out dress shopping only yesterday because Rooster didn’t give you the details you needed to find a dress sooner.

The theme of the event was fairy tales and what can only be described as royaltycore, with the bride wearing a replica of the live action Cinderella dress and her bridesmaids baby blue and baby pink dresses obviously inspired by the dress worn by princess Aurora in sleeping beauty going by their shape (matching the wedding dress in the live action movie) and colour (an obvious nod to the changing blue and pink in the original animated feature), with a pastel colour scheme, Bradley had told you that guests would have to wear pastels that matched the table you were assigned and those wearing dresses were under orders (straight from the bride herself) to dress like the princess of their childhood dreams (and surprisingly she didn't care if you ended up looking better than her, it seems she just wanted to live out her childhood dream of living a fairy tale for just a few hours) , and the table you and Bradley would be placed at was designated the lavender table so you had to hunt for a lavender dress.

Having found nothing in San Diego you, Natasha, and Callie all ended up driving over 2 hours to LA in the traffic and heat to try and find something you could wear. You had formal dresses, having attended many a charity gala and medical events but they were all dark navys and emerald greens, you weren’t really one for pastels and you certainly didn't have anything that made you feel like a princess, in fact most of your dresses made you feel like a display, a prize to be given to the highest bidder as you were paraded around to convince donors to up their donations with a flutter of your eyelashes and your tits pressed against their arms as you walked, so you had to go out and shop for something.

While some of the dresses you found when in San Diego had potential, they were either the wrong shape or the wrong size (and you most definitely did not have time to have anything tailored) so you made the journey to L.A and finally found something in a small shop owned by an independent designer that had been recommended by Siren (who couldn’t join you as she was dragging a very nervous Bob to meet her family in Miami that weekend). You were lucky, it was the last of the dress in stock and it was just your size and, in Callies words, you looked like a knock-out in it. With dress in hand, the three of you made your way back to San Diego and settled in your respective homes just before midnight.

Natasha removed her hand from your back as she felt your breathing even out completely, the tightness in your chest was now completely gone and your panic had settled though nervousness still brewed in the pit of your stomach, and she turned to Callie with a smile, “Now let’s get you all dolled up.”

That’s right, you forgot you asked them to help you get ready, well you told them you didn’t know what to do with your hair and makeup and didn’t have time to book in with anyone to get it professionally done, to which Natasha let you know that Callie is phenomenal at doing makeup making a joke that if she wasn’t a pilot she would be on a movie set somewhere doing makeup for the stars. Callie blushed at the compliment and let you know she could do yours for you, while also volunteering Natasha to do your hair because she was surprisingly good at it. And that’s why they were at your place at 8am in the morning after getting home so late at night. You were gonna have to buy them a bottle of wine or two to thank them later.

Natasha guided you into your room, her hand in yours and placed you down in front of your vanity. It was an old thing, the one your mom used to keep in her room though she very rarely used it, but it was nice to have a piece of her. She turned you to the side, so you were facing the door into your ensuite while she positioned herself behind you and Callie positioned herself in front of you, placing her makeup bag on the vanity. You were thankful she brought it, the only makeup you had were the basics to make you look less like a zombie when out in the ED, some foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, and maybe three eyeshadow palettes none of which contained pastel colours. Under their instructions, you closed your eyes and let the girls get to work.

The ceremony was starting at 10, would be finished in 30 minutes and Rooster was coming to pick you up on his way to the reception venue, with the reception not due to start until 12, Rooster would pick up at 10.45, giving him time to get to the venue with the midday San Diego traffic.

Which was great, considering the fact that both Natasha and Callie restarted their entire process at least 3 times each drawing out the time it took for them to actually finish doing your hair and makeup, well that and the breaks you took to eat something and to sneak a drink of champagne that Callie had brought with her deciding you would need a little bit of an edge to calm your nerves before Rooster arrives. Between the stopping and restarting, your hair and makeup was finished by 10:40.

Though you couldn’t see yourself yet, Callie had covered up the mirror halfway through because you kept trying to peek, the looks on Callie and Natasha’s face were enough to let you know you looked good. “Beautiful. Now get your ass into your dress, I can hear Rooster pulling up.”

Callie left the room, leaving Natasha to help you get into your dress. As yout stripped out of your pyjamas, folding them neatly and placing them on the edge of your bed, Natasha turned away towards your bedroom door and started to remove your dress from the protective covering given to you at the boutique yesterday, while you made your way to your underwear drawer and pulled out a lacy thong and a strapless bra in a matching colour out and put them on. You then turned to Natasha who had removed the dress from the hanger and was holding it folded over her arm, you let out a gentle ‘okay’ to let her know it was okay for her to turn around.

While Natasha helped you into your dress, Callie let Rooster into your home with a smile and a bit of a questioning look as she noticed he was driving a black Bentley and not his usual bronco, “You give up the bronco?” Rooster rolled his eyes as he stepped over the threshold of your home with a small smile on his face.

“Gerard insisted all the groomsmen arrive in Bentley’s, he did wanna give me a driver but I insisted on driving to get (Y/N) myself.” Callie nodded her head as they walked into the open plan living room and kitchen, leaning against the island as she eyed up Rooster. Even she had to admit that he looked good in his dress whites.

“You clean up well Bradshaw.”

Roosters rolled his eyes at Callie, but his lips upturned slightly at the compliment, it fed his ego a little bit, though he only really cared about what you thought he looked like. Rooster’s eyes once again found the photo of the two of you at prom and a small smile spread across his face as he remembered just how beautiful you looked that night and how that was the first time he realised that he may have had not so friendly feelings towards you. He remembered his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he waited for your mom to go and get you from your room, how his hands felt clammy and his head began to spin as he saw you in your dress for the first time. This was no different, his heart was hammering in his chest as if it was trying to break through his ribs and throw itself directly into your hands, and his hands felt damp to his touch as he clasped them together in front of him to stop him fidgeting.

Callies eyes softened as she watched one of her best friends and she smiled, it was obvious from the very first day that you were Roosters girl to the point that even Hangman was leaving you alone not wanting to incur the wrath of a love sick Rooster, but now watching him Callie could see it was so much more than just an infatuation but was pure, deep love, one not everybody got to experience and those who did were lucky too. “She’s beautiful Bradley.”

Rooster’s eyes snapped to Callies and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he knew you were beautiful. You were always beautiful, even when you thought you looked your worst Bradley always thought you were the most ethereal being on the planet. The sound of a door opening and closing caused Bradley to look down the corridor he knew lead to your bedroom, but instead of you walking down there was Natasha with a smile on her face.

“She’s just getting her shoes on.” Bradley nodded his head as Natasha joined Callie leaning on the island, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek before she turned her eyes back to Bradley. She narrowed them slightly and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked him up and down.

“This is your one shot Bradshaw, fuck this up and I will run you over with my car.” Bradley wanted to ask what she was talking about, argue that there was nothing to fuck up, you were just friends, and you were only doing this as a favour to him, but the sound of your heels coming down the hall stopped him and he turned to look at you.

Callie wasn’t wrong, you were beautiful but you were so much more than that. You looked like an absolute goddess, your makeup made all your features pop, especially your eyes and

your hair was styled to perfection with little decorative butterflies poking out here and there to match your dress. Your dress. God, you truly looked like a fairy princess. A gorgeous lilac, floor-length gown, with butterflies decorating the skirt and collar line with pink highlights, including a pink belt around your waist.

The world around Rooster faded away as he looked at you, it was like he had tunnel vision and everything else faded to darkness, and his heart beat so rapidly and loudly in his chest he could hear it and felt like he was underwater. Eyes moving over your form, not every discreetly, a flush rose on his cheeks and he felt his throat dry up and constrict as he tried to vocalise anything to let you know what he was thinking.

The intensity of his stare at you blushing profusely, eyes moving away from him as you ran your hand over the skirt of your dress to distract yourself from his gaze, which you could physically feel on you as if it was peeling back the layers of your skin and muscle and staring directly at your heart, which was beating so rapidly against your ribcage. You were so distracted by not looking at Bradley, you can’t see the sly smiles shared by Natasha and Callie, or the way they were eyeing the two of you just waiting for one of you to make a move.

Taking a gulp, making his adams apple bob in his throat, Rooster clears his throat finally moving his eyes away from your form, though the blush he sports is still rapidly spreading across his face, “You look good angel.”

Mentally Rooster curses himself, was that seriously the best he could come up with? That you looked good? Did you really short-circuit his brain that badly that he couldn’t even compliment you properly? Natasha groans internally, throwing her head back in exasperation as she lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes. She knew Rooster was an idiot but this was beyond idiocy. You didn’t mind though, you gave Rooster a smile as you finally looked at him again.

“You look good too B.”

A smile spread across Rooster’s face as he reached out a hand for you to take, which you do with a small smile, “Your carriage awaits princess.” You roll your eyes at his extravagance, taking your clutch from Callie as Rooster escorts you to the car, which you give him a questioning look about and you laugh as he explains that he was forced too, but if he had a choice he would be driving you to the ball in his bronco.

Natasha and Callie watch with smiles as you laugh with one another before driving off and as you do the couple turn to one another and sigh, “They are absolutely hopeless.” Callie nods along to her girlfriend's words and clicks her tongue, “Completely hopeless.”

---

The drive to the venue doesn’t take as long as you thought it would, the traffic isn’t as bad as anticipated with most people taking advantage of the beautiful morning and heading to the beach before temperatures reach their peak between mid-day and three pm. It’s a peaceful drive, mostly.

You of course tease Bradley about his moustache and how you’re surprised Gerard didn’t make him shave the ridiculous thing off to be in the wedding party and he rolled his eyes and chuckled, letting a little “you know you love my moustache” slip past his lips. And, surprisingly, you do love his moustache, though you would never let him know that it would simply inflate his ego to the point it would match Hangmans, and you did not need a cocky Bradley in your life.

But after you actually set off, conversation dies off with the only sound being the music playing gently from the speakers. You realise, half-way through the drive, that it’s a playlist of all your favourite songs from childhood and you smile at the thought that Bradley remembered and made a playlist specifically for you, you supposed it was to try and calm the nerve raging inside of you the closer you got to the venue.

For most of the ride, you’re sitting staring out the window with your elbow propped on the window and your head propped on a fist, just watching the world whizz by, occasionally moving your eyes to take in Bradley in his dress whites. Bradley is a handsome man, he knows he’s a handsome man and often uses that to his advantage, but in his dress whites? His dress whites take it to a whole other level and you swear he looks like Prince Charming coming to sweep Cinderella off her feet.

You take your time to admire him, from his nearly combed and styled hair that doesn’t have a hair out of place and it certainly being held in place by a mountain of products curving down along his chiselled jawline to his plump lips that had a light sheen to him, probably just a lip balm, but they looked so kissable as you stared at them for a little bit longer than you should have, being so lost in thought that you bite down on your own lips that were painted a light pink.

You finally move on from staring at Bradleys lips back across his jawline and down his neck, moving across his arms that looked absolutely amazing in the white overcoat until you reached his hands, which were gripping onto the steering wheel with such an intensity that his knuckles were starting to change colour and the veins in his hands bulged, causing heat to spread through your body as you thought about his hands on your body, wrapped around your throat, holding your waist, dipping lower and lower to where you wanted him the most. But before your mind wanders too far, you strip your gaze away from him and look back out the window to try and calm your now rapidly beating heart and quell the embers of burning desire.

Your gaze isn’t unnoticed by Rooster, oh no, he doesn’t even have to look over to know your staring at him, he can feel your emerald eyes burning into his skin as it moved over his form and as he looks over and sees you biting down on your lip, he has to suppress a groan because you looked so damn good and he didn’t know how long he could control himself if you kept looking at him like that, which is why he was gripping onto the steering wheel with such force to try and ground himself and focus on anything other than your pretty pink lips and how they would feel on his own, how they would feel pressed against the skin of his neck, his chest, his abdomen, his.

Suddenly, Rooster is shaken out of his thoughts as the venue comes into sight and he is directed by a concierge to park alongside the other groomsmens bentley’s and he quickly clears his throat before following the directions and pulling in. As he pulls the keys of the car out of the ignition, he turns to you with a smile tugging at his lips, eyes roaming over your body once again, “You ready?”

You take a few deep breaths, in for eight, hold for six, out for eight and repeat, close your eyes and steady your heart before turning to Bradley with a tight lipped smile and a gentle nod of your head, “Yeah, let’s do this.”

You go to open your door, but Bradley quickly slaps your hand away and you turn to him with a shocked expression. Bradley only gives you a goofy grin before he gets out of his own door, shutting it behind him, before he makes his way over to your door smiling at the other groomsmen who were gathered only a short distance away. Straightening out the collar of his jacket quickly, Bradley open’s your door for you and offers you his hand, which you roll your eyes at but gladly take, allowing him to help you out of the car.

You hear a couple of whistles as Bradley’s hands fall to your waist as you allow him to steady you, pulling you close to his chest in the process. You could hear a few voices calling out from behind you, all some variation of ‘go Bradshaw’ or ‘way to go Rooster’, which causes a blush to rise on your cheeks which actually mirrored the one on Bradley’s as he tried to let you go. You stopped him, moving your arms around his neck and pulling him down to put a kiss on his cheek. Afterall, you were supposed to be his girlfriend and with people watching, you were going to put on a show.

The blush you had seen on Bradley’s face was nothing compared to the one heating up his skin now, he looked like a tomato and he had to hide his face in your neck to avoid being seen by the other groomsmen who were whooping and hollering at the display of affection. You rolled your eyes at the antics but welcomed the display of affection from Rooster, especially as he snaked his arms fully around your waist and rubbed up and down your back. It was something you frequently did when you were both younger, a way for the both of you to ground one another when it was needed, and it was very much needed now as anxiety started to take root in your heart.

A strong smack on Rooster’s shoulder prompts him to pull away from you, “Rooster man, you gonna introduce us to your girl here or are you just gonna love up on her all night?”

The small group of groomsmen (a total of 3 excluding the groom) had made their way over to you and were now leaning either against the bentley you arrived in or the one beside it with cocky smiles on their faces and their arms crossed. You had to assume the one who smacked Rooster was the groom, Gerard.

“Uh, yeah. Gerard, this is my girl (Y/N).” Though he had pulled away from you, Bradley manoeuvred so he was now at your side with his hand around your waist. “(Y/N), this is Gerard, and the rest of the groomsmen are Sam, James, and Steve.” He motioned to each one as he introduced them and you met them all with a smile.

James was the first of the group to speak to you directly, his eyes trailed up and down your body appreciatively and even though you know he means no harm by it you can’t help but cringe slightly at the way his eyes rake over you, there was just something wrong with the way he did it, “Damn Bradshaw. When you said your girl was a knockout you really meant it.” Finishing off his sentence with a wink in your direction, he moves back to look at Rooster who holds you just that little bit closer.

“Yeah, I’m damn lucky to have her.”

You look up to Bradley with a smile, only to find him already looking at you with a softness you’re not used to. One that speaks to the way lovers look at one another in the privacy of their own homes, one that you had seen before in how your friend Graham looked at his husband and how Maverick looked at Penny. Not wanting to overthink, truly not wanting to think about it all, you turn back to the group of groomsmen and clear your throat.

“Are you all aviators?”

Steve is next to speak, “Gerard and Sam are, me and James are marines” You give a small hmm in acknowledgement before he continues on, “What about you? You in the navy?”

You shake your head with a small laugh, “No, I think my dad would have actually murdered me if I even considered joining the navy. Um, my dads a pilot, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” All the men exchange wide eyed shocked looks and Sam lets out a whistle.

“Wow, Rooster, the Captains daughter? And not just any Captain at that, Maverick? I’m surprised he hasn’t skinned you alive.”

You roll your eyes a little at that, sure your dad was overprotective and had threatened a few of your ex boyfriends, the one person he would never threaten is Bradley, and you both knew that. “There are two people in the world my father is scared of, one was my mother when she was alive. She was small but she was mighty and quite the temper. The other is me, unfortunately for him I inherited my mothers temper and his attitude.”

The boys around you let out a small chuckle, imagining you going in on Maverick, which you had done multiple times when he took on a dangerous mission and told you nothing about it (not even his flight details or that fact that he was flying, you really ripped into him after the uranium mission). The conversation looked like it was going to continue, until a small frazzled red head with a clipboard approached the group, the wedding planner you guessed.

“Boys!! You are needed for photographs before the reception begins!!” You stifled a giggle as you saw them all roll their eyes at her and cast your eyes to the ground, knowing if you meet any of the groomsmens eyes you would burst out laughing. The wedding planner let out a huff as she looked at her watch and then stormed off in the direction of what you assumed was the entrance.

“That’s our cue then.” James is the first to move off, throwing you a quick wink as he stood up straight and started heading towards the entrance alongside Steve and Sam. Gerard stayed with you and Bradley as you started moving towards the entrance yourselves, Bradley’s hand still wrapped firmly around your waist. As you walk the few metres to the entrance, Bradley and Gerard joke amongst themselves and all you can do is smile. Bradley was well and truly relaxed, you could feel it as he held you. There was no tension in his muscles, they way there usually was even if you were just hanging at the Hard Deck or at your place or at the hanger, even the micro muscles in his face seemed relaxed.

Stopping at the entrance, Gerard motions into a girl in a beautiful light purple dress with constellations stitched into the skirt and a small silver tiara in her hair, who was standing by a table of champagne, talking to an older woman in a beautiful regency style dress that looked like it had been picked out of Bridgerton , “That’s Sarah, she’s my cousin and Sam’s girl. Let her know your Rooster’s girl and she’ll show you to your table, she’s sitting with you. That’s her mother with her, my aunt Millie, be careful she’ll talk your ear off if you let her,” the last bit is spoken in a whisper as Gerard bends down to your ear, causing you to smile.

You nod your head and go to move in her direction, but Bradley grabs your hand and pulls you back into him, lifting your hand up and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. It was something he had done before, the night you had agreed to this whole charade, and again it took your breath away as the simple intimacy of it made your head feel light.

“I’ll be in soon, okay?” You give him a gentle nod and a soft ‘yeah’ falls past your lips, which is enough for him to let you go. You give him a smile as you turn towards the entrance, eyes following him from your peripheral as he moves towards where the photos are being taken until he is out of your view and you look at Sarah, who has turned to look at you having heard you coming.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sarah.” She offers a hand out to you, which you take, and you instantly relax as you take in her gentle and welcoming smile and how something about her just eases peace, maybe it’s the constellations on her dress calming you or maybe she oozes the same energy that you found in them.

“Hi,” You don’t expect your voice to sound as small as it does and you quickly clear your throat before you continue, “I’m (Y/N), I’m uh…”

A look of excitement crosses across her features as she clasps her hands together and lets out a small squeal, “You’re Roosters girl? The doctor?” You nod your head slowly, shock settling in as to how she knew who you were, which you apparently weren’t good at hiding, as she links arms with you and smiles widely.

“At the rehearsal dinner the other day he could not stop talking about you! Honestly, I wish Sam talked about me as passionately as Rooster spoke about you. And, honey, the way his eyes lit up anytime someone asked about you, it’s adorable.”

Relief washes over you, Rooster had already spoken about you. He had planted the seeds that this relationship was legit in the minds of all the people here already, that made things easier. Now you just had to act like you were desperately in love with him, which was easy considering that you were no matter how much you refused to admit it to yourself.

Aunt Millie now turned to you with a smile and a glass of champagne, “Hello dear, I’m Mildred but you may call me Millie.”

You gently take the glass from her with a smile, “Hello Millie, my name’s (Y/N).” Her gentle smile and warm eyes remind you of your grandmother, and of the countless old ladies who made their way into an er throughout the year as a means to battle their loneliness, Gerard had said she would talk you ear off and you would have gladly let her if it meant she was a little less lonely for the night.

“Well my dear’s, almost all the guests are seated, shall we join them?” Sarah smiles at her mother and links her other arm through hers, keeping one linked with you, as you walk into the main reception area. Your mouth gaped open as you looked around, it was absolutely stunning. Vine wrapped stone pillars decorated with tiny lights that you were sure would look like twinkling stars once the night had hit, beautifully arranged circular tables curved in a crescent shape with a two person table at the centre reserved for the bride and groom that was decorated with beautiful white gardenias and wild flowers on top of a soft pink table cloth that resembled the colour of rose quartz,, with a lavender table either side (one for the groomsmen and their plus ones and one for the bridesmaids and their plus ones), which was followed by sky blue, then a gentle green colour, then a soft yellow, and then it repeated in reverse order (yellow,green, then blue, then lavender).

Each table had a flower centrepiece matching the colour of the table cloth, some sprigs of lavender on the lavender tables, blue daisies at the blue tables, limelight hydrangeas at the green tables, and coreopsis at the yellow tables. In the centre of the tables was the dance floor, edges decorated with bushes, all filled with blooming flowers of varying colours (you would have to assume most of them were artificial or else the smell would be completely overpowering), and hanging above it was a gorgeous chandelier that had been threaded with the same wildflowers as the bride and grooms table.

Behind the bride and groom's table, towards the back sat a photobooth very similar to the one found at proms and homecoming dances with a box of props at the side, that included toy swords, tiaras, and feather boas. At the very back of the room, hidden behind the floral background of the photobooth, was a pair of white arched doors that you assumed lead to the beach, if you listened close enough you could hear the waves crashing against the shore. It was like walking into a fairy tale.

Sarah gently guided her mother to her table and seat, it was at the blue table next to yours and she was seated with the mother and father of the groom, as well as some admirals from the navy who usually regarded you with a slight of disdain having meet you at naval event alongside your father, but now meet you with apprehensive smiles and a tilt of their glass in acknowledgment. You gave Millie a gentle goodbye and a promise that you would join her for a conversation at another time during the night.

Sarah then guided you to your own seat, the lavender table at the right hand side of the two person table, the groom's side you were assuming, and to your seat, though you probably could have figured that out yourself as placed at it was a placard with gentle swishing writing spelling your name. Thankfully, you were sat right next to Sarah and Rooster would be sitting on your right.

At the table were two other women already and Sarah introduced you to them as Peggy and Natasha, Steve’s fiance and James girlfriend. They’re both lovely women and conversation between the four of you flows quite easily, you discuss your respective careers, learning that Peggy actually works as a nurse in the paediatric unit of your new hospital, and Natasha teaches self defence, and Sarah is a pre-K teacher.

Throughout your conversation you feel eyes burning into you, though not in an unsettling way, more so a questioning way as if to determine if you were who you actually were and as you move your eyes away from the group of girls around you, you find a pretty blonde staring at you from the far lavender table on the bride’s side with a little bit of sadness in her eyes. She sits next to a tall man with dark curls and a soft lilac suit that perfectly matches her dress. She’s stunning and you quirk your head to the side, curious as to why she’s staring at you but, realisting she’s been caught, she quickly looks away from you.

You didn’t realise that everyone (minus the wedding party) were seated until the sound of the wedding march started to play from the speakers within the room and the door opens with the maid of honour and Sam making their way in first, followed by the next bridesmaid and Steve, and then the next bridesmaid and Bradley (who gives you a wink) as he enters, and then the next bridesmaid and James. All four of them make their way across the dance floor and to the couple’s table, where they separate to their respective sides with wide smiles.

“Introducing the newly wed Mr and Mrs Alcove!” Sam's loud tenor voice booms across the room, even without a mic, and in comes the happy couple wrapped up in each other’s arms. You had to admit you thought the bride was going to look ridiculous when Bradley had told you she was wearing a replica of the Cinderella dress, thinking she was going to be wearing the large iconic blue dress, but she looked absolutely stunning in the much simpler replica of the wedding dress from the live action movie. The dress was a beautiful creamy colour with a long, flowing skirt decorated with flowers, and atop the bride's head sat a gorgeous crown. She well and truly looked like a princess.

You smile and clap with the rest of the guests, some of them whooping and hollering as the couple make their way to the table. The couple share a passionate kiss in front of the table, arms wrapping around one another as if they needed the other to breathe, before sitting down and motioning for their wedding party to do the same. The party splits to either side of the table and takes their seat and as Bradley sits beside you, you reach over and place your hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently as you turn to him with a smile that he gladly returns.

---

The meal begins and conversation surges amongst the table, though it’s hushed it brings a buzz to the air and electrifies it. You're enjoying the conversation amongst your own table, Sam was telling a story about how Bradley literally tripped and broke his nose trying to impress someone while they were on deployment with each other. You, of course, laugh along to the story while Bradley leans back in his chair with a bit of a huff.

Once again you can feel the same eyes as earlier on you and as you look up, you’re once again met by the same blonde staring at you but this time she doesn’t look away until Bradley catches her eye. You can feel him straighten beside you as he leans forward, one arm wrapping around the back of your chair as he whispers in your ear, “That’s Molly.” And with that, the staring makes sense, though you’re still unsure how she knew it was you. With Sarah, you had introduced yourself but you hadn’t so much as said a word to the other girl.

Bradley leans back in his chair again, but keeps his arm wrapped around the back of your chair, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on your bare shoulder as you lean back into the chair.

---

After dinner and speeches, and first dances, Bradley joined the rest of the groomsmen to smoke a cigar out the front of the venue, joined by the wedding photographer who wanted to get a few more candid shots of the boys (you assumed she was still going to pose them, but in a more natural manner), leaving you at the table by yourself as Sarah had disappeared to talk to some of her relatives a few tables down and Peggy and Natasha (she insisted on you calling her Nat, but you just couldn’t having stored that nickname away for Phoenix) joined the bridal at the bridesmaids table for a conversation. Your eyes had met with Millies over the crowd, and you had every intention of going over to join the woman and converse with her, but a body landing in Sarah’s seat next to you stops you.

You turn to look who it was, not knowing anybody but those sat at your table, and find Molly sitting next to you. She looks nervous, chewing on her lips and fiddling with the golden chain wrapped around her left wrist, as she looks around for someone. She looks for a good few seconds, making sure whoever she was looking for was not going to suddenly pop up out of nowhere and usher her away, before her eyes settled on you.

When they do, you expect to see rage, jealousy, hate. Instead, they’re soft and kind and hold a hint of sadness in them that you recognise immediately, it's a look you’ve worn yourself. One of mourning a love lost, of grieving over a relationship you would never have, and you realise she’s mourning her relationship with Bradley.

Molly clears her throat slightly and she releases her lips from her teeth as she speaks, “I’m…uh, I’m Molly but you probably already know that.” Her eyes shuffle away from your face in nervousness, settling instead on the sprigs of lavender in the centre of your table, “And you’re (Y/N), right?”

You nod at her question, afraid to open your mouth but still wanting to acknowledge what she was saying, and she gives a small smile. “I thought so. When we were together Rooster would talk about you, tell me stories about the two of you, you look just like he described you.” You flush slightly, heat engulfing your cheeks, you didn’t know Rooster talked about you to Molly, didn’t know he spoke to anyone about you. “You really are as beautiful as he said.”

Molly’s eyes moved away from the lavender, landing on you and she tilted her head to the side with a small sigh. You know she isn’t here to be malicious, especially as she moves to take your hand in hers gently, “I shouldn’t be talking to you. The ex talking to the new girl? People will probably think I’m threatening you” You both let out a small chuckle at that, and you must admit she had a beautiful smile.

“That’s not what I’m here to do, promise.” She looks around her once again, this time you’re able to gather that she’s looking for Rooster, “I just wanted to let you know how in love Rooster is with you.” You’re shocked, and she gives a small giggle at your face as your mouth opens slightly.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, I am truly happy for Rooster that he finally managed to get you to agree to date him and , but I…I thought Rooster loved me, and maybe some part of him did, but after reading the letters I knew he would never love me like he loved you…” She looks back down to the bracelet on her arm and moves her hand away from yours to play with it again, “And seeing you two together? Seeing how he looks at you like you placed each individual star in the sky, as if you were born from stardust and the cosmos itself? God….”

Your brain finally catches up to you, and you reach an arm out to touch Mollys arm, “Wait. What letters?” Molly matches your confused look with one of her own, raising an eyebrow as she looks at you, “You haven’t seen the letters? He has a whole box of them, all addressed to you starting from when he was in basic and the most recent was one from his mission before he got called back to Top Gun.”

Your head suddenly feels too full, a million questions running through your head. He wrote you letters? All this time? Why didn’t he ever send them? What about them made Molly realise he was in love with you? Where were they now? Why did he keep them? Alongside your racing thoughts, your heart started to beat rapidly in your chest as the same tightness from this morning returned and you struggled to breath. Suddenly the sound of the party felt like it was a million miles away and it was distorted as if you were underwater, the pounding sound of your heart all you could hear, as your head started to feel dizzy and the room started to ring.

You could vaguely feel Molly reach out to you, a look of concern on her face, and she was speaking to you but you couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. It seemed she called someone because in a second Sarah was at her side, a hand on your arm, she was also talking but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. You tried to relax your breathing, eight in, hold for six, eight out, a few times but it wasn’t working. As you panicked, your eyes moved from Molly and Sarah looking around the room for a way out and finally your eyes caught the edge of the arched doors leading to outside world, and you stand suddenly, knocking Sarah back slightly and mumble out, “I need…I need air,” as best you could given your inability to breath properly.

You rush away from the table and push through the large oak doors, letting them slam behind you, though you were sure no one was able to hear over the pounding bass of the music playing. It was dark out, night having fallen about an hour earlier, with the only light coming from the small porch you were standing on. Your eyes scan around you, the beach spreads out before you with the ocean only a short bit away and in a sudden decision you strip yourself of your shoes, leaving them on the porch, and stalk towards the water, not caring and not really in a rational mind to care about your dress.

You step into the water, walking until your ankles are fully covered and the skirt of your dress floats around you. The cold is a shock to your system and though the freezing cold would stop your panic attack you’re in too deep now for it to work, so instead you look to the sky. Lucky for you it’s a clear night and you can see some of the twinkling stars in the sky.

The stars, the one constant in a world of chaos and if your body was anything right now it was pure chaos. Your thoughts still hadn’t subsided and your heart was still thundering, the tightness in your chest remained the same and it felt like every breath you took was like breathing in shards of glass. You focused on the stars, tracing the familiar patterns of the constellations and picturing them in your head as you go. Slowly your heartbeat starts to slow and then your breathing even outs, your thoughts are cleared as you go over the names and summaries of each constellation you find.

Suddenly strong arms are wrapping around your waist and the scent of Bradley’s cologne fills your nostrils as he pulls you against his chest, saying nothing, just letting you ground yourself and come back down to earth.

The silence lingers for a few moments as you gather yourself, “How’d you know I was out here?”

Bradley chuckles slightly, arms tightening around your waist, “Sarah came out and got me, said you looked like you were having a panic attack and you ran off. Knew you would be somewhere looking at the stars.” You hum lightly in response, leaning your head back against his chest. It’s peaceful for a few seconds before you remember why you had your panic attack. Suddenly you’re pulling forward and turning towards Bradley with your arms crossed.

“Tell me about the letters Bradley”

Rooster curses to himself and avoids looking into your eyes, he knew he should have never left you alone. Should have known that Molly would seek you out, say something that gave away his secret. He brings his hands in front of him, wringing them together over and over again nervously.

“I-I…” Rooster was struggling to find something to say, wanting nothing more than for a huge wave to come and knock into the two of you so he could disappear. Your gaze was piercing, eyes narrowing slightly as he took too long to reply.

“I… I wrote them and then I meant to send them, I promise” Roosters hand carded through his hair, the effects of the products fading as he messed it up by doing so. Still he refuses to look at you, and you huff at it a little.

“Why didn’t you?” You uncross your arms, instead bringing your arms down and playing with your fingers in nervousness.

“Because…” Now Bradley looks in your eyes and he looks nervous, he couldn’t believe himself. Bradley flew F-18’s for a living, went into dangerous situations every day but this was the most scared he had ever been in his life. “No matter what I wrote, even if it was just about my day, about training, no matter the words, the only thing I wanted to write was I love you. I wanted to write it over and over and over again until my hands bled and that is not the confession you deserve.”

You let out a laugh, tears gathering in your eyes, “And this is?” You didn’t want to cry, didn’t mean to, but you were so overwhelmed with emotions that it was the only outlet you had. You still had residual adrenaline in your veins from your panic earlier and you were happy, oh so happy, that Bradley was in love with you, with his confession it was like every nerve in your body lit up at once and the only way you could express it was tears.

Bradley curses under his breath again, reaching a hand out to wipe the tears forming on your lash lines, “God no it’s not. This is not how I wanted to do this.” You let out another huff, rolling your eyes and looking away from him.

“Were you ever gonna do it or were you gonna let me go throughout the rest of my life thinking you didn’t love me back?”

Bradley, who had dropped his hand and turned his eyes away with your huff, snaps his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t expecting that, not in 100 years did he expect you to be in love with him as well.

“You really didn’t know?” He shakes his head, hands now reaching out to grab at yours as you step closer to him. You looked so pretty as you looked up at him through your lashes with a smile on your lips. You reached up to him, cupping his jaw gently in your hand and rubbing your thumb gently across the apple of his cheek.

“God Bradley. You wanna know why all my other relationships failed Bradley? Because I compare them all to you. No one was ever you. I have been in love with you since we were 16 and no other man or woman has ever compared to you.”

Bradley gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as he does, and he watches your eyes looking for any hint of dishonesty. Any glimmer that you were having him on. But there's nothing but love in your eyes, and suddenly he sees what everyone else saw. Pure, unbridled love.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is soft as his hands move to hold you at your waist and you answer by pulling him down and pressing your lips against his. The kiss is sweet and gentle, your lips moulding together perfectly, but still filled with passion as he pulls you closer to his body. It wasn’t like the books described, no fireworks, no sparks, but rather a feeling of peace. One of home, as if your souls had been reaching out to each other your whole lives and were now touching. And though the kiss is sweet and soft and innocent, you can’t help the feeling of heat pooling in your abdomen as you thought of where this could be heading next.

You pull back from one another, but still stay close as he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck. You stand like that, simply holding each other for a few moments, until a chill settles in you and you start to shiver a little.

Bradley gives you a small smirk, “Why don’t we head home and get warmed up? Huh?” You smile as he wiggles his eyebrows at you, making an obvious innuendo that you were all too happy to carry out, and nod and, reluctantly, untangle yourself from Bradley, making your way to the shoreline where you notice he’s abandoned his dress shoes. You suddenly turn to him with wide eyes and a hand over your mouth.

“Bradley! You’re dress whites!” He simply shakes his head with a smile, taking your hand in his as he puts his shoes back on, “Don’t worry about it angel. I’ll get them dry cleaned.” He places a kiss on your forehead to calm your nerves before you make your way back to the venue.

You disappear back into the room, your heels now in your hand, and make your way over to the table where Sarah is now sat with Natasha, Peggy, and Molly, who are all looking at you with slight concern. You simply smile and lift your purse, “I’m fine, promise. But we’re,uh, we’re gonna head home” The girls smile and give you hugs as you go, with Peggy promising to stay in touch and Natasha gives you a ‘be safe’ with a wink.

As you said goodbye to them, Bradley ordered the two of you an uber, having had a few beers and you having had a few champagnes and wine, and said goodbye to the groomsmen who are all giving him knowing looks, especially as you approach behind Bradley and place your hand on his upper forearm and rub it gently as you give your own goodbyes to the boys.

The uber is quick in arriving and you and Bradley climb into the back seat, anxious to get back to your place (which is closer than Bradley’s who lives in Fightertown). In the back of the car, your hand finds Bradley’s thigh and you start to rub gently on it, biting down on your lip as you do. You feel Bradley tense at the touch, his eyes shifting to watch you and figure out what you’re doing and he swears to god that the you were trying to kill him with the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him like you wanted to jump his bones right here in the back of the uber.

As your hand ghosts closer and closer to his hardening cock, Bradley has to suppress a groan, instead pretending to cough as he glares at you. You were playing a very dangerous game. He grabs at your hand as it ghosts across his cock, loose enough that you can pull away if you want but tight enough that it sends a warning. You only smile at him, cocking an eyebrow, “Everything okay, lieutenant?”

The sound of his rank rolling off your tongue has Bradley biting back a moan as he throws his head back against the headrest, you were definitely going to be the death of him, and by the looks of it you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Instead of releasing your hand, he threads his fingers through it to stop your hand from wandering and you pout a little in your seat.

The drive to your place was far too long for Bradley, seemingly dragging on forever despite the almost empty roads, but that might have been the frustration bubbling inside of him that only seemed to grow every time he met your lust-blown eyes. When you finally stop at your place, he rushes out a thanks as he all but tumbles out of the car, causing you to giggle, and makes his way to your side, opening your door for you with a goofy grin on his face.

You mutter out a thanks to the driver before taking Bradleys outreached hand and climbing out yourself, you’re barely out of the car before the driver speeds off leaving you and Bradley at the bottom of the path leading to your place. Bradley can’t help himself as he cups your face in his hands and presses a deep kiss to your lips, which you gladly reciprocate, moving your lips in sync as you grab at the collar of his jacket.

You don’t wanna end the kiss, so instead you twist a little and start walking back on the path and Bradley’s hands move from your face to your waist to hold you steady and help prevent you from falling. Your back hits against the front door and you finally pull away from Bradley with laboured breaths, “I… I need to…”

All words vanish from your mind as Bradley starts to kiss down your neck, squeezing gently where his hands meet your hips, stopping at a particular spot that has you whining in pleasure to pay extra attention to it, you could already imagine the bruise that would be there come the morning. At your little sounds, Bradley smirks against your skin and kisses back up your neck making his way to your lips once again, where he places a gentle peck.

“What was that angel?” You roll your eyes at him playfully, turning your back to him with a smile as you start to rummage through your bag for your keys, which would be a thousand times easier if Bradley didn’t preoccupy himself with running his hands over your clothed body and placing kisses against your neck and shoulders, giving you a matching hickey on the other side. Finally, and with a fumbling hand, you find your keys and quickly unlock your door before turning to Bradley and pulling him in by his collar, dropping your purse by the door and pushing it closed with your foot.

Bradley hums appreciatively into your mouth, arms wrapping around your waist once again and pushing you against the door once again. You stay there, kissing each other slowly and passionately, as if you had all the in the world to enjoy each other. Eventually Bradley pulls away from you, laboured breaths fanning against your face as yours fanned against his and you want nothing more than to pull him forward into another kiss but you also know if you continued this here you wouldn’t make it to the bedroom.

You placed a hand on his chest, your blown out eyes looking into his, “I want this off lieutenant.” This time Bradley let’s himself moan at how his rank rolls of your tongue and pulls away from you enough to let himself the room to unbutton his jacket, and for you to bend down and take your shoes (which you put back on waiting for the uber, not wanting to carry them) off, throwing them down beside your purse.

After all the buttons are undone, your hands are spreading across the expanse of Bradley’s chest that was still covered by his hunder shirt until you are moving the jacket down his shoulders and off his body completely. His lips press to yours once again and you run your hand up his chest, and around his neck to play with the little hairs at the base of his neck. With this kiss, Bradley pushes his tongue into your waiting mouth and plays with your own causing a small moan to resonate from your throat.

While your hands are preoccupied, Bradleys are smoothing over your hips and running up the expanse of your rib cage to reach behind you and undo the zip on your dress, which he does quite fluidly and the bodice falls gently from your chest onto Bradleys. You pull away from him again, finger pressing against his white undershirt, “This too.”

Bradley only smirks and gladly removes the offending item of clothing, allowing you to take a step back so that your dress would fall from your frame completely and pool at the ground which leaves you in nothing but the matching set of underwear you put on earlier. Bradley groans at the sight, his hands reaching out to paw at the skin now exposed to him. He grips at your hips tightly, fingers digging into the skin as he does, pulling you close to his body.

“You are so goddamn perfect.”

If you weren’t already flushed from the situation, you most definitely would be from his compliment. You place a hand on Bradleys chest, pushing him slightly so he starts to walk backwards down your hall towards the bedroom, and while Bradley loved seeing you take a little bit of control he couldn’t let you have it all. So he very quickly has you pushed against the wall of the hall, right beside a photo of him and you, with his knee pressed between your thighs and he swears he can feel how wet you are through your panties and his dress trousers, causing him to groan as he kissed you once again. This time a little bit more fervently than the last.

You happily reciprocate, mixing your tongue with his and throwing your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. You moan gently as he knocks the knee in between your thigh against your aching core, which only encourages him to do it again only harder. This time you pull away from him with a desperate moan and he smirks at you.

“You like that angel?” You nod your head at him as he presses against you again and this time you grind down to meet the movement, letting out a moan as you do so. The sight of you grinding down on his knee has Bradley groaning and growing even harder in his dress pants than he was before. He needed to have you and he needed to have you now. Quickly, Bradley falls to his knees in front of you, his hands making quick work of discarding your panties, and he moans at the sight of you.

“You’re so wet angel, is all this for me?” He looks up at you through his lashes, hands now gripping onto your thighs and he looks so good between your thighs, pupils absolutely blown so that very little iris remains and a devilish smirk on his face. You can only nod at him, to which he tuts and bites gently down on your thigh causing you to whine. “Come on now angel, use your words like a good girl”

You swear you feel your wetness dripping down your thighs at his word and you bite back the whine gathering in your throat, “All for you lieutenant,” you had noticed the effect calling him by his rank had on him earlier and you were going to fully take advantage of that.

“That’s a good girl”

Suddenly Rooster licks a stripe up your slit, causing you to throw your head back with such force your picture frame shakes and let out a moan, your hand coming to tangle in Bradley’s hair as he continues to lick at your cunt. It goes at it like a man starved being presented his last meal, licking and sucking at your clit as he goes, which has you a moaning, panting mess above him, barely able to utter a coherent word other than ‘Bradley’.

You were teetering so close to the edge now, the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening. Bradley removed a hand from your thigh, instead bringing it round to rub gentle circles on your clit while he pushed his tongue into your entrance, causing you to tug on his hair with such a force that Bradley moaned and that was it, the coil in your stomach snapped and suddenly you were cuming all over Bradley’s face with a choked moan of his name.

But that didn’t stop him, no Bradley continued on throwing you into overstimulation as he swapped his finger and mouth. His mouth latched onto your clit while his middle finger slide into you, you were a babbling mess of ‘too much, too much’ but Bradley wasn’t going to stop. Not when you tasted and felt so good. Slowly he entered a second finger into you and you could feel your coil tightening once again as he moved in and out of you, occasionally curling his fingers to try and find the spot. Which he quickly does, your sharp intake of break and deep moan letting him know he’s found it.

Bradley lets go of your clit with a pop and looks up at you, slightly teary eyed at the overstimulation and with your mouth wide open as moan and moan slipped from your lips. He could have stayed like this forever, just watching you as he got you off with his mouth and fingers. He continued to abuse your g-spot, pressing against every time his finger push into you, watching your face twist in pleasure as he does. God you look and feel so good that he can’t help but reach into his dress trousers to rub at his cock to get some kind of relief, because at this point he feels like he might burst.

Bradley feels you tightening around his fingers and he presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, “You gonna cum for me again angel?” You nod your head, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure courses through you and the coil in your stomach gets tighter. This time Bradley bites at your thigh and scissors his fingers inside of you, “What I say angel? Gotta use your words?”

You let out another strangled moan, the coil read to snap once again, “Yes lieutenant, gonna cum again.” Bradley smirks against your thigh, you can feel it against your skin as he presses another gentle kiss there, “Go ahead angel, cum for me.”

Another strangled cry of his name falls past your lips as you cum for a second time and Bradley nearly moans at the sensation of you squeezing on his fingers and he can’t help imagine that feelings on his cock when he fucks you. Pulling his fingers from you, Bradley stands once again, smirking at your already fucked out expression, and places his fingers on your lips. Without needing instruction, you open your mouth and suck them in, swirling your tongue around them to clean them off.

“You’re such a good girl angel.” You whimper at his words and Bradley pulls his fingers from your mouth to cup your jaw and pull you into another searing kiss as his other hand wraps around your thigh and pulls it up to his waist in silent instruction, which you follow jumping to wrap both your legs around his waist, your bare cunt now rubbing against the fabric of his dress trousers and against his clothe cock hidden inside, causing a moan to fall from both your lips.

Bradley pulls you from the wall and proceeds to move towards your bedroom, he had spent the night innocently when you first moved in earlier in the week and knew exactly where he was going, never breaking your kiss as he does. Gently, he lowers you down onto your bed before breaking your kiss to stand at the end of your bed and watch you. Your pupils are completely blown and you whine at the loss of contact, which he finds just absolutely adorable.

“Patience angel. Now be a good girl and take your bra off for me.” You do as you're told, reaching behind you to unhook your bra and then throwing it somewhere in your bedroom, as Bradley reaches down and strips himself of his dress pants and boxers. Now, you had heard many a rumour in college about Bradley and how well endowed he was, and you were very happy to say that the rumours were true.

As Bradley’s cock smacks against his stomach, you salivate at the sight of it. You sit up as Rooster crawls onto the bed, strong thighs in between your knees, your chest rubbing against his providing stimulation to your nipples that has you moaning which Bradley takes advantage of by shoving his tongue into your mouth. You moan at the sensation, one hand grabbing at his neck while the other reaches down to stroke his cock.

You rub gently at the tip first, gathering the precum in your palm, which Bradley moans obscenely at, and then you start moving your hand up and down his length using the precum as a lubricant. You smirk into your kiss with Bradley as he continues to moan at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his length, suddenly the sensation of your nail scratching lightly at the underside of his cock has him cursing and stuttering forward. Bradley knew he wasn’t going to last long if you continued your teasing and there was no way he was going to cum unless he was wrapped in your pretty pussy.

Suddenly Bradley grabs your hand from his length, as well as the one on his neck, and pins them above your head with one hand with a small growl that has you clenching your thighs together to get some friction despite having already came twice.

“That's enough teasing from you angel.”

You whine lightly, and struggle against his grip, wanting to touch him, but he simply tuts at your behaviour and rubs his cock through your folds, catching your clit on the tip as he does. You moan at the sensation and let a please slip past your lips.

“Please what baby?”

“Ple…Please fuck…fuck me lieutenant”

You can barely get the words out as Bradley continues rocking though your folds, hitting against your clit every time he does, but you do. Bradley smiles, leaning down to kiss you as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushing himself in. You gasp at the stretch, eyes closing and mouth falling open as you do.

“You okay angel?”

You nod your head, “Yes, feels s’good, keep going.”

Bradley was not one to deny you what he wanted, so slowly he kept going until he was bottomed out in you. God you felt absolutely amazing as you squeezed him trying to adjust to the size. He was definitely bigger than anything you had before, so you needed time to adjust. After a few seconds you're begging Bradley to move, you needed him to move, and so he obeys by pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in again which causes a loud, pornogaphic moan to fall from your lips.

He does it again, and again, hitting the right spot over and over again as he did, which caused you to see stars but you still needed more. “Faster Bradley, please.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Bradley moves faster, causing a moan to fall from your lips with every movement. The pleasure was immense, you could feel every part of him inside you, every ridge and every vein pressing against your walls and you could swear his head was hitting against your cervix, and you could feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten once again.

You begin to babble out Bradley’s name as you approached another orgasm and he threads the fingers of the hand holding your arms down with one of yours, letting the other one go to come down and grab at his shoulder as he pistoned his hips into you, “I’m right here angel, you’re doing so well for me.”

He lets out a deep moan as you squeeze down on him with the praise, pressing kisses and bites to your shoulders and collarbones, moving his way down until his lips wrapped around your nipples as a way to contain his sounds and to stop him from speaking, because if you squeezed down on him everytime he praised you there was no way he was lasting to give you another orgasm, and he was determined to give you another one.

With a sharp snap of his hips, he finds your g-spot once again, moving on from beating your cervix, and instead beating into that spot over and over again causing loud moans and whimpers to fall from yours lips as the coil inside you tightened and tightened again and with a whimper you let Bradley know you’re gonna cum again.

With a pop he releases your nipple and brings his free hand down to rub at your clit to bring you over the edge as he continues his abuse of you g-spot, “Come on angel, cum for me. You’ve been taking me so well.”

With the pressure on your clit and the praise falling from Bradley’s lips you quickly fall over the edge and cum around his cock, the pressure from you squeezing him so tightly causing his hips to stutter as he reaches his own peak, filling you up with his cum. You openly moan at the sensation of him pulsing inside you, the feeling of his cum painting your walls just felt amazing to you.

Bradley quickly presses a kiss to your lips as he pulls out of your sensitive hole, and runs a hand gently through your hair, your little butterflies lost somewhere in the chaos. You place a hand against his cheek and kiss him back gently, your fingers moving to push some hair off his sweaty forehead. As he pulls his lips of yours, Bradley presses his forehead against yours with a goofy smile on his face.

“You’re amazing (Y/N), I love you”

“I love you too Bradley”

Bradley lifts himself off you and off the bed, to which you groan already missing his warmth, and Bradley just rolls his eyes a little as he moves towards the bathroom. “I’m only getting a washcloth to clean up with, stop being a baby.”

You still pout at his turned back, though you are grateful he’s going to clean you up, most men didn’t but then again Bradley wasn’t most men. He’s back in seconds, a damp washcloth in hand and he’s gentle in the way he wipes you down from your neck and chest to your aching pussy where his cum is dripping out, making sure to wipe down your thighs as well before throwing the washcloth in your wash basket.

Bradley gently lifts you from the bed, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he does, so he can pull back the blankets before he sets you back down. Though you are desperate for his touch, and he knows it, he goes over to the drawer he knows you keep your pyjamas in and pulls out and oversized shirt he gave you in college and then he goes to a drawer you had made up for him of some sweats and stuff so he could get changed at your place after training.

Quickly, he slips the sweats on over his hips before making his way back over to you. Your eyes are slightly glazed over and they are struggling to stay open as you fight with sleep, but still you turn to him and match the small smile on his face. “Arms up”

Bradley’s voice is soft but still commanding and you do as your told, raising your arms up so he can put the oversized shirt on you. Once it’s on, he leans on the bed slightly and presses a kiss to your forehead, “You need anything angel? Water? Snacks?”

You shake your head and move over on the bed, “Just you B”

Bradley smiles and crawls into bed next you, pulling you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulder. Your head rests on his pec while your hand reaches out to rest opposite you, just about his heart, and you follow the rhythm of beating until your eyes are closing and your drifting off to sleep.

---

You wake up to a text from an unknown number of a photo of you and Bradley wrapped up in one another in the ocean the night before, you seemed to be in the perfect position for the moon to illuminate your bodies as you kiss, “You’re souls are so deeply intertwined with one another that even the moon bends to your love xxx Molly”.

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

Text

two birds

summary: your last thoughts are of Simon

warnings: violence, death, blood, angst, reader callsign is storm, gn pronouns

a/n: In my feels, now everyone must suffer my ghost angst, I'm sorry

The shots ring through the air, the bullets whizzing by your ears as you and Ghost fight through the mob ahead of you, you're exposed in an open field, just the two of you. You called for evac five minutes ago, patiently awaiting the sound of the helicopter blades whirring above you, you're nearly out of ammo, replacing your empty clip with your final round,

"I'm almost out" You shout to him

"Only a few left, keep going"

You're both sprinting around, ducking for cover behind rocks and trees, dropping the men as soon as you see them,

"Two on your left, get over here"

You rush beside Simon, bracing your back against the tree as he turns to shoot the two men, you move to turn, a sharp pain shooting from your abdomen across your body,

"It's clear, let's go"

He moves forward, urging you to follow, you take a pained breath, your legs moving slowly as you trail behind him. You make your way to a small cabin a few miles from where you were, your legs stumbling over the uneven ground as your hand clutches your side.

"Are you hit?" Ghost asks, turning his body towards you as you arrive at the house,

"Just a graze" You shake your head in denial, but your fingers are stained red, you can feel the drips dampening your clothing.

"Get inside" His hand is firm on your back, helping you in, he closes the door and you collide with the wall, your back pressed against the wood as you brace against it.

"You alright love?" His words pass through your ears, the stinging in your stomach making you wince in pain, "Storm are you hurt?" There's panic in his voice as his eyes scan your body, he can see the drips of blood pooling around your feet, the tears that prick your eyes as you look back at him, his breath is shaky as he reaches for you, his hand covering yours, you flinch at the contact.

"Watcher this is Alpha team, how far out are you?"

"Alpha this is Watcher, we are 10 minutes out"

"Alright, just hang on love, a little longer"

You nod toward him, breathing deeply as you slide down the wall,

"I need to see, move your hand"

His eyes are glued to yours as he lifts up your shirt, it's drenched in blood, he lets out a heavy breath as he sees your wound, a bullet had entered your lower stomach,

"How bad?"

He takes a beat, his hands shaking as he presses into your skin to try and stop the bleeding, "There's no exit wound, but you'll be okay, you're fine"

You huff a small laugh, the movement in your chest making you grimace, your tears are falling down your cheeks, mixing with the dirt that stains your skin as your muscles get weaker, dropping to the floor.

"Hey look at me, we'll be out in a few minutes just hang on"

You smile weakly at him, a frail hand moving to cup his cheek, he leans into your touch,

"Let me see you"

His eyes are watery as his free hand moves to tug his mask off, your thumb traces over his skin,

"So beautiful"

"C'mon don't go all soft on me" He jokes, his eyes glaring down to his stained skin, the pool of red under your body growing later by the second.

"It's okay"

"No, no you're gonna be fine, it's just a scratch"

"Simon" Your voice is soft, his shaky hands pressing firmer into your skin, your body is numb from the blood loss, your skin getting pale as he shakes his head at you,

"It's not fair" His voice is trembling, "It shouldn't have been you"

"We've had a good life" You smile

"Not long enough, it's too soon, we're supposed to get all old and cranky together"

"I think you've had the cranky part down for years"

He laughs quietly, he's looking around for anything he can use to help stop the bleeding, his movements frantic, you place a delicate hand over his, he turns to you his face flushed.

"I won't let you die, not now"

He curses, his hand reaching for his comms, "Goddamnit Watcher where are you?" He's yelling into his microphone

"ETA 5 minutes"

"You need to be here now! Fuck!"

"Simon" Your voice is weak, your head falling back against the wall,

"I'm here love, what is it"

"I just, I gave you all I had, you need to know that"

"I know baby I know, just a little longer okay"

His eyes are frantically scanning outside for the helicopter, your eyelids are heavy as he moves to hold you, his arm wrapping around your neck to pull you into him,

"Hey you gotta stay awake for me alright, talk to me"

"So tired Si"

"I know, just think about getting home, we'll go see the ocean like you always wanted"

"You hate the ocean"

"I do yea" He huffs a small laugh, "But I'd do anything for you"

Your limbs are heavy, your frame only being held up by his grip as you grow weaker.

"I want you to find someone, after me"

"What?"

"When I'm gone, you deserve to be happy"

"I don't want anyone but you, you're it for me, this, us, that's how my story ends, us together"

"C'mon, you can't be hung up on me forever"

"Baby I have loved you from the minute we met, there's no room for anyone else"

Your skin is puffy from your tears, your cheeks flushed as your hand holds his cheek, the blood from your fingers smearing onto his skin.

"Thank you for letting me love you"

The distant sound of the helicopter echoes through the walls of the house, Simon's eyes widening at the sound,

"Alright baby, you have to stand, we have to go"

You shake your head, crying out in pain as he tries to lift you,

"I can't Si"

"You can come on, just hold onto me"

"Simon, you have to let me go"

His tears are falling, his hands pulling you into his chest so your head is tucked under his chin, his lips pressing to the crown of your head.

"It's okay" Your words are muffled in his clothes, you pull back weak eyes staring back at him, you slowly lean in to kiss him, his hands holding you there.

"Please don't leave me" He whispers, his forehead pressed to yours,

Your hand falls from his cheek, "It's okay, I'm in the arms of the man I love, the man I will always love, it doesn't hurt"

He's shaking his head,

"There's no pain anymore, just you, I love you Simon Riley"

Your heavy eyes close, your body growing limp in his hold, he tugs you into his chest, his tears wetting your hair as he muffles his sobs against you, his body shaking slightly.

He whispers your name, taking a strained breath as the full weight of your lifeless body is held by him, his hands stroke your hair, slowly rocking as he sits, his mind numb as the feeling of his heart being ripped out fills him, the sound of the landing helicopter outside buzzing in his ears.

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bettysupremacy · 2 years

Text

Who could be a more doting boyfriend?

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Based off this request

Summary: 10 times Eddie Munson showed just how down bad he was.

Warnings: mentions of weed, food is brought up too, very very fluffy, Eddie down bad, sick! Reader for one, reader only in towel at one point, reader eats bacon in one, fem! Reader, tell me if I’ve forgotten any.

3.7k words because I luv u

Saccharine kisses were her favorite. The kind of kisses where he would ghost his lips over her skin, hovering, before planting a long sweet kiss to wherever he deemed most kissable at the moment.

She loved the way it never failed to make her stomach flip. The way it never failed to make her dizzy in the head and weak in the knees.

She loved that when it made her exhale wonky he’d look at her with this lovesick smile, before pressing more kisses around the area. Quicker, but non less full of love.

That’s why now, laying in bed, sick as a dog, she doesn’t have the strength to push him away. Thats why pawing at him uselessly, the only strength she’d managed earlier, had ceased.

“I’m gonna get you sick.” She whines.

They’re laying in her bed, intertwined like these are her last moments, like Eddie needs to get the most out of them.

Like a sad Victorian painting.

“I don’t care, Juliet, this world is a place I cannot live in without you.”

She scoffs, it coming out more like a cough than anything else. He pats her back as she coughs, letting her sit up to cover her mouth, and frowning when she shakes her head at the Gatorade he holds up for her.

“I’ve got the flu, you dolt. I’m not dying.” He pulls her back down, rubbing at the arm she’s wrapped around his stomach.

She didn’t know wether she was cold or hot, but the goosebumps that rose on her arms, from his fingers dancing over her skin, chilled her deliciously.

“He says that though, right?” He asks.

“Romeo?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never read the play.”

He ponders this for a moment, tilting his head up, further into the faded grey of his old pillow case.

“What are you think-“

“Shh.”

She gives him an incredulous look, she could be dying for gods sake! Treat her with a little respect-

“O Romeo, Romeo, where..fore art thou Romeo?”

She looks up at him, head not lifting from its position on his chest, but a confused smile is playing on her lips.

“You’ve read it?”

“Well when you take senior year three times..”

“Oh, right.” She tilts her head back down, ear press into the warm skin above his steadily beating heart, as she curls around him.

He stops his fingers dance over her arms, only letting her frown momentarily, before they card their way through her wet hair. They work out small knots and kinks they hadn’t brushed out. He cranes his neck to press a long kiss on the top of her head.

“Did the shower make you feel better?” He murmurs against her hair.

“I don’t know.”

He sighs, knowing her too well to think that she’d admit his suggestion didn’t work. “I’ll go get the tv from the living room and wheel it in here, Kay?”

She nods, nasally voice making him frown. “Mkay.”

He gently removes himself from under her, making sure to pull the blankets back up before completely retracting.

“And the vapor rub. I’ll grab the vapor rub too.” His palms dig into his mattress as he hovers over her.

“God bless.”

He smiles at her, lips coming down to kiss hers affectionally. She kisses back before she realizes what she’s done.

“Do not kiss me, Edward, I know you’re not vaccinated.”

A deep groan leaves his lips as he walks away, into the living room for the TV and vapor rub.

“What is a desperate man to do?”

She can’t help but smile as she tucks herself into his freshly clean, for the first time in 2 years, sheets.

—

She rummages through his drawers, fingers making quick work of the unfolded clothes thrown in them.

“Eddie?” her voice drifts through his bedroom door, and into the kitchen, where he’s staring intently at the microwave.

He pushes his door open, weary as to where to put his eyes while his girlfriend is in nothing but a towel.

“Yes?”

“Do you know where my clothes are? I thought I left them in this drawer but..”

“Oh! Hold on!”

He goes back though his door, returning with a basket of laundry. It’s not fresh, nor warm to the touch, but it was definitely recently that it had been washed.

“You washed my clothes?”

“It was after you got sick,” he shrugs nonchalantly, cheeks tinging a shade, due to the way she smiles at him.

The smell of them wafting up into her face only deepens her already bright smile. She picks up her shirt, bringing it to her nose and inhaling.

“And you used-?”

The look on his face is downright bashful. “I remembered it was your favorite, so I picked you up some when I went shopping with Wayne.” He scratched his neck, “S’no big deal really.”

Her arms wrap around his neck, towel hanging on for its life.

“No, it is. Thank you, baby.”

Her fingers scratch his scalp lightly, digging into his curls and tugging gently. He feels like a dog being pet. Is this what they feel like? Lucky bastards.

He fears his leg may start kicking.

“You’re welcome.” He muffles into her neck, arms wrapped around her waist so that the towel doesn’t fall, “I’m glad you’re happy.”

—

She had called him from work, voice full of tears.

“My sweet girl, can’t you come home early?”

“Janie was supposed to come in today, but she flaked, so now I’m alone.”

“Come home, leave Austin and Marie to close today. No baby, we don’t need that money for the rent, enough cars needed fixing this week. I promise, come home- my home.”

So she did.

But trudging through Eddie and Wayne’s front door, he was nowhere to be found. His van was outside where it normally was, his shoes were haphazardly thrown in the direction of the front door - like they normally were, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Each shoe is toed off quietly, as she softly calls his name, not wanting to disturb Wayne’s weird sleep schedule. “Eddie?”

She’s scrubbing at her face, trying to get the tear tracks off.

“Eddie?”

She pads through the hall, into the bathroom where she can hear water running.

“What’s this?”

He looks up, panic stricken through his face.

“No, no, no. Go sit on the couch real quick.”

Nothing but hurt is read on her face. “What, why?”

He rushes up, cupping the back of her neck with his wet hand, while the other slides around her waist, pulling her closer.

“I did something for you.”

“You did?”

She peaks behind him into the dingy bathroom. He’s got the water running and her favorite soaps out displayed on the tub.

“No peaking!”

He uses the hand around her neck to push her face in his chest.

“You ran me a bath?” It’s muffled in his Megadeth shirt.

“Do you like it?”

“Is that your way of telling me I’m dirty?”

“What? No, no, no. I just thought that you might- uh, I thought that you might like it-?”

She laughs and he basks in it. Letting it cleanse and settle over him.

“I was joking, honey.”

He smiles, teeth poking through has he lets out breathless - relieved laughs.

“Go,” he skews his head toward the bathroom.

“But-“

“Go, I’m making dinner.”

“You’re making dinner? Baby.”

“I’m ordering from that Chinese place, the one across the street from the library,” He lets out another breathless laugh. “Go.”

“Oh, okay then.”

—

Something is stirring inside of her chest. Something warm and light. It muddles around, making her heart flutter and palms sweaty.

She’s never gotten a love letter before.

It’s not the most put together thing she’s ever seen, but it’s got to be her favorite. It’s small, but pink, and she could tell Eddie used his best handwriting for this. At the very end he signed it off with -E and a poorly drawn version of his guitar.

Where did he get pink paper?

She holds it in her hands like it’s gold, like it could tear at any moment, but two fingers pluck it out before she has the chance to read it a third time.

“Who wrote you up?” Rob asks suspiciously, eyeing the pink referral slip between her index and middle finger.

“No one-?”

Oh, that’s where he got it.

She tugs it from Robins fingers, flipping it so she could see the back - or what is actually known as the front of the paper.

Eddie Munson Grade 12 10/3/86

REASON FOR REFERRAL

-Cutting Class

-Lack of Cooperation

-Restless, Inattentive

ACTIONS TAKEN PRIOR TO REFERRAL

-Detained Student After School

PRESENT ACTION AND RECOMMENDATION(S)

-Student Regrets Incident, Cooperative

Robin reads the back as Y/N reads the front. He wrote her a love letter on the back of a referral slip?

“He wrote you a love letter on the back of a referral slip? What’s next? A receipt from a drug deal?” She ignores the instant, drug deals don’t have receipts dipshit, thought that pops up.

“That’s so sweet! He wrote me a love letter on pink paper!” Robin can’t help the twitch of a smile on her lips. “You think he’ll write me more?”

“If he doesn’t I’ll jeopardize his business.” She slings her arm around Y/N’s shoulder.

“What are best friends for?”

—

“It’s too early, it’s too early.” She whines as Eddie pushes back her hair, pressing light kisses into it, while she wraps her arms tighter around his chest.

“I know, I know.”

The sun shines in through Eddie’s open windows, the red sheet nailed above the larger one casting a crimson hue over them.

They tangle in the bed sheets, languidly and lethargic, similar to the way they held each other when she had the flu.

“C’mon, baby you gotta wake up.”

She grumbles, hands snaking under his back, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin as his box fan blows on them. They settle and he smiles as she opens her eyes.

“Why’s your shirt on?” Her sleep raspy voice tugs multiple strings in his heart.

Eddie always slept shirtless.

“I’ve already been up, sweetheart.”

“You’ve already been up?”

He smiles down at her, pushing some hair from where it sticks to her forehead. “Mhm.”

She pushes up, arms caging Eddie’s chest, as she hovers over him.

“You’re wearing your kiss the mechanic apron.” she points out, like he wouldn’t have known.

“I am.”

“Did you make breakfast?”

He shrugs, “Get up and see.”

She whines, shaking her head, laying back down on him. “Carry me?”

He thinks about it for a moment, looking down at her droopy eyes and tapping her thigh. She wraps her legs around him and he sits up, letting her be carried in his arms to the kitchen.

She smiles, resting her head on his shoulder, as he murmurs “Needy, needy, girl.”, shuffling to get a better grip on her.

“You hungry?” He softly asks.

“I’m tired.”

“Oh, I know.”

The counter is cold against her thighs as he sets her down. She squirms sadly, and he can do nothing but smile affectionately at her.

The plate he hands her is paper and warm. He sets a napkin on her lap, before the plate, so it doesn’t burn her poor thighs. Though, her eyes are closed as he does this, hands messily wiping the sleep from her eyes, so she doesn’t see the food.

“Warm.”

“Very warm,” He nods. “Eat, baby.”

Pressing a fork into her hands, he gently tugs her hands away from the cruel work they were doing to her eyes.

“Bacon? You got me bacon?”

“Benny was giving slabs away for free, down at the diner.” He bends over and kisses her jaw.

“I love bacon.”

“I know.” His voice is nothing but teasing, though, she doesn’t mind.

“You cooked the bacon by yourself?” She sets her fork down, grabbing his hands, and inspecting his arms. “And you didn’t get popped by the oil?”

He flushes, “Wayne helped me. But I made everything else by myself!”

She looks down at the food fondly. Eggs cooked like she taught him when they first started dating. Toast unburnt. Wayne’s bacon.

Wayne’s bacon was so good.

“Go get a plate, I’m not eating without you.”

“On it.”

—

“Okay, hands like this.” He grips her fingers, smiling as she lets him bend them in the right places. “Yeah! Okay, now pluck the third string.”

She plucks it, and it comes out sounding significantly better then 10 minutes ago. “You’re doing it! I’m so proud of you.”

He attacks her cheek with kisses and she scrunches her nose, pulling away in feigned annoyance.

“Teach me to play I Have a Dream.”

“What?” He pulls back agast. “I’m teaching you to play guitar on sweetheart, and you want me to teach you to play ABBA?”

She giggles, laying her head in his neck. “Yes, please.”

“No, baby, I’m teaching you to play 2 Minutes to Midnight.”

“No,” There’s a whiny edge to her voice. “That song is so hard.”

“You could do it.”

“Only if you helped me.”

“Deal.”

He lifts the guitar back up, twisting her fingers to the right frets.

“This is going to be so metal.”

He laughs out loud.

—

“-and I told Robs to go to the front of the class and tell the teacher, but she didn’t wanna embarrass herself In front of the Nancy.”

Eddie nods along, leaning against the lockers. This isn’t a conversation he’s particularly interested in, but-

“I think they’d make a good couple, don’t you?”

“Who?”

“Robin and Nancy!”

“Rob and Nance? Totally.” He waves his hand, as if dismissing any thought that they wouldn’t be.

“I knew you’d think so.”

The halls are almost empty, dismissal bell rang 5 minutes ago, but when you don’t have a bus to catch you always have a little extra time to put your stuff away.

“Are you ready?” Eddie asks, watching her shove books in her locker that she refuses to take home.

“Almost,” She turns to Eddie, looking behind him. “I just thought I heard Rob and Nances voice. I guess I’m going cra-“

She stumbles, having slipped on something, even though she could’ve sworn there was nothing on the ground a minute ago.

“Woah baby, woah baby.” Eddie grips her arms tightly, but not cruelly. Just tight enough to keep her upright. “What was that?”

“Slipped on,” She looks down at the floor “My shoelace, I guess.”

“You guess? Baby, you gotta be careful.” He bends down to one knee, patting it lightly for her to put her foot on.

Her left hand is flat against the lockers for balance as he ties her shoe for her.

“You can’t have untied shoes, sweetheart. Y’could trip and hurt yourself.” She watches fondly as he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, I just don’t want an injured girlfriend.” He finishes, patting her foot in approval.

“You wouldn’t love me if I was injured?”

He stands up, “Who said that?”

“You did!”

“I love you so much I wouldn’t be able to look at you, cause seeing you injured would make me so sad.”

“You wouldn’t take care of me?”

“I’d call mama Steve, I can’t stand to see you hurt.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He grabs her cheeks and presses a hard kiss to her mouth. “You’re welcome.”

—

Eddie’s room is dark like it normally is. His bong is next to him and his guitar is on his knee resting.

He loves nights like these.

He taps his knee rhythmically, slow, unlike his other songs. A power ballad if you will.

He’s been at this for hours. Strumming, tapping, and scribbling lyrics into a blank page of his math notebook.

Just as he pulls his pick out of his mouth again he hears a soft knock on his door. It’s probably just Wayne.

“Hey, boy.” Wayne cracks the door open, checking to see if Eddie is decent. “I’m leavin now.”

Eddie checks his watch, humming in confirmation.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

Wayne nods. “You writing a new song?”

Eddie smiles at his uncles effort to make conversation.

“Yeah, for Y/N.”

Now it’s Wayne’s turn to smile. “She’ll like it.”

He could hear it through the walls? Eddie flushes.

“You think?”

“Yup.” Wayne puts a baseball cap on. “I like ‘er.”

He turns to leave, closing the door behind him, leaving Eddie in shock.

“I’m out!” He hears Wayne yell, before locking the door behind him.

“Bye!”

That was.. strange.

—

Her eyes hurt from reading, her back hurts from hunching over her bedroom desk, and her heart hurts from not accepting Eddie’s kisses.

This is one of the rare nights that she isn’t sleeping at Eddie’s, having to study for the math test tomorrow, but 20 minutes ago Eddie came in through the window, and she’s gotten no work done since.

It doesn’t really matter, due to the three hours of studying she got in before he came, but it’s still stressful nonetheless.

“Cmon baby, let’s go to bed.” Eddie’s Laying on her bed, flipping through a magazine.

“I can’t, I’ve gotta study.”

“Baby, you‘ve been studying since 9:30.”

“So? What time is it now?” She doesn’t look up from the equation.

“12:43? You gotta sleep at some point.”

Startled, she checks her watch, eyes widening when she realizes he’s right.

He’s getting up, tossing the magazine, and pulling her up outta the chair. He wraps his arms around her neck, kissing the top of her head a generous amount of times.

She whines pulling away, causing him to gasp in offense.

“What could I have possibly have done?”

“Want it on my lips.”

“Only if you promise to go to bed with me.” He bargains.

“Fine.”

He grabs her face and kisses her just the way she likes. Saccharine and sweet.

“Will you come to bed now?”

“Only because I love you.” She nods glumly.

He smiles playfully down at her. “Oh, but I love you more.”

—

They had been watching a movie.

A newer one, starring Micheal J. fox. It wasn’t wasn’t usually Eddie’s thing, but he had agreed for Steve.

He’d insisted that they watch it. “No! You don’t understand! He goes back in time to-“

“Don’t spoil it for them!” Robin rasps.

“I’m not, Rob, I’ve just gotta get them hooked.”

“You don’t hook someone by spoiling a major plot point?”

So here they were, under warm covers, watching a movie that neither of them particularly wanted to watch.

Candy was splayed out In front of them. Red vines, runts, nerds, and sour patch kids, getting dug into every couple minutes. And though Eddie had whined about Steve making them choose this, after the first opening scene he was hooked.

“Goddamn, did you see the way he flung into the wall?”

She had, but she also had seen the rope tied to his stomach.

“Did you see the rope around his stomach?”

Eddie laughs, his chest shaking under her as he looks away from the tv. “No, can we rewind?”

She was content with this. Even though she didn’t particularly enjoy the movie, Eddie did, and that was enough for her.

“Damn,” Eddie mumbles, staring intently at the screen. He’s got one arm hanging off the couch, joint between fingers, and the other rubbing up and down her spine.

They’d been in this position since the movie started, utterly comfortable.

Eddie’s trailer had the worst insulation, and even worse ac and heating, so this was nice. Eddie was always warm, a natural heater, so this was always nice.

Nothing strikes in his head as unusual, they lay like this every night, but something about the way her breathing was so even gave it away.

“Hey doc, you better back up, we don’t have any road to get up 88.” The pretty Lea Thompson is perched on Micheals lap as he gives his line.

“Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.” He drops his aluminum glasses over his eyes, starting the car.

Eddie’s hand lazily rises from her back and up to her head, hovering. “Sweetheart?” No answer, “Are you sleepy? Are you asleep?” still, no answer.

He cranes his neck to the side, trying to get any glimpse of his tired girl sleeping, stuffing out his joint in the process.

“The movie ended,” He whispers. “I think there’ll be a second one.”

No reaction. He sighs, letting his hand move back down and continue the work it was doing to her back. He can’t move or wake her, it would do too much to his poor heart.

She shuffles in her sleep, head leaning up towards Eddie. He holds his breath until she’s done, then he lets his nimble fingers work over her hairline. Brushing away stray hairs gently, letting his middle finger swoop down her nose, cupping her face gently, just to look at her.

He loves moments like these. Moments where he gets to stare at her so unapologetically. Moments where he gets to memorize every detail about her face, without her looking over and asking What are you looking at baby?

The slope of her nose, the way her eyelashes curl, the tilt of her mouth, the way her eyebrows furrow at something in her dream.

“You’re so pretty.” Is whispered from his mouth absentmindedly.

She can’t hear him, stuck in dreamland slaying monsters dutifully, traveling the world with Eddie, shopping with Max, or swinging bats with Steve.

He knows she can’t hear him, but it still feels necessary to say. It’s something he needs to say.

Her breathing intakes, it’s something sharp and shallow. For a moment he thinks she’s woken, but her pretty eyes haven’t opened.

“Sweetheart?” He whispers, but the quick breathing doesn’t stop. “Bad dream, hmm?”

He bends his neck down, holding her in his arms, and scattering multiple kisses over her hairline, trying to calm her.

Slowly her breathing calms again, and he lets sweet relief wash over him. He needs to get them to their bed.

Once he’s fixed her in his arms, he carry’s her to the room, gently setting her down in her spot and pulling up the covers.

He gets up to take his shirt off, but a warm hand stops him.

“Don’t leave.”

He frowns, ache dwelling in his chest at the thought. Climbing under the covers with her, he lets her cling onto him, “I’m not.”

Guess he’s sleeping with his shirt on tonight

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie x you

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weebsinstash · 5 months

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I just have to say I'm absolutely loving your yandere Thragg & Nolan stuff! Keep it up & I hope you have a nice day!! ♡

Thank you! And, also, gonna be using this post to talk about more yandere Thragg stuff because I was refreshing my knowledge on the comics and my YTShorts feeds are now filled with Invincible lore recommendations and, jesus I forgot how fucking nasty this man is

first off I'm using this image to just help kind of visualize how much of a unit this man is. Like. He's probably something crazy like 6'6 at the very shortest, maybe like 6'8, 6'9. But. Um. He's scary. He's tough. Viltrumites get tougher the longer they're alive and he's, not THE oldest Viltrumite but, maybe he's in like the top 10? But I think there's only something like an odd, less than 50 number of pure blooded Viltrumites left anyways lmao

Which is then my transition to "dealing with yandad Thragg as his child could be an absolute nightmare especially if you don't have powers"

Dying on my hill of "even if you do have powers he's super fucking possessive over who you're choosing as a mate or even just dating" because there's layers of 1. He has his own massive ego and your actions reflect on him and anyone you bring into the family will benefit from his lineage and achievements and he's defensive about who reaps those bounties or may even be suspicious of political intentions 2. If he hypothetically does let you date he needs to pre approve them first and I'm sure you can imagine how that goes and 3. .... you're his widdle baby, can't you spend more time with dad :( shut up about finding love, why can't you crush skulls with him? "Child why can't we go slaughter alien civilizations together like we used to 😩"

The last paragraph made me think of "Thragg with a child Reader who's actually a really spunky tough kid and he like is so proud of you and you guys have like An Actually Good Relationship (for Thragg's capacity to love anyways) but as you get older you start having ideological differences and you want more freedom but he just wants you to be Daddys Favorite Little Killing Machine for the rest of your life". Like you're just giving Thragg the cold shoulder because he won't let you leave the planet without his personal escort anymore and meanwhile here's thragg hovering over you with his arms crossed, internally scowl-pouting as he remembers The Good Old Days when you were like 6 and ran up to him, "Dad, Dad, look!! this is a note from my teacher praising me for how well I beat up another student! She says I'm 'extremely proficient at bludgeoning'! Did I do a good job?" "You did an EXCELLENT job. It says here the boy needed medical attention." "Yeah, he had to be sent to the hospital! His legs were totally bent the wrong ways! He shouldnt have tried to steal my toy!" "Fine work; you should never allow anyone to take what is yours. We shall feast tonight in celebration." And he pet your hair and you flew up to his chest height to give him a crushing hug. And nowadays you're like. The Viltrumite equivalent of being in your early adult years and everything is extremely cold and impersonal and you call him nothing other than Grand Regent and he "maybe" just wants his eager confident prideful Affectionate child back because all he has now is. A child that hates him and will barely make eye contact with him and will never accept his praise or medals for your achievements.

Like imagine being a notoriously powerful Viltrumite and you're actually widely accepted but him being controlling of you throughout your childhood eventually gave you a complex. Thragg summons you to like praise you for like, subjugating a nearby galaxy, and asks what you would like for a reward, and you just coolly reply some shit like "There's nothing you could offer that I want, Grand Regent" like you hate him so much you don't even want gifts from this man

AND THE DELICIOUS DRAMA OF, imagine if he finds out that while you hate him and want nothing to do with him, maybe you've become extremely attached to Nolan or some other older father figure in his place

THE SHIT THAT GOES DOWN IF THRAGG EVER HEARS YOU CALL NOLAN OR ANYONE ELSE "DAD" like the cosmic level beef that goes on, the BLOODSHED. Jesus. Imagine being on Earth and you've got Dad Nolan or he's like declared himself your dad/mentor and he sees you bonding with another human male who's a father figure and you call that man dad, like. That man is going missing and Uncle Sam is erasing his existence from the records just, gone.

Side note actually, idea for something yandere viltrumites do with a viltrumite/hybrid reader: loving to bear hug you super hard? Like almost painfully but they won't break anything. Just. Imagine yandad Nolan or Thragg or Mark with like, a lil sibling/ child/ age regressed Reader or whatever and you're having like, hugging contests to see who can hug the hardest, and play wrestling shit idk. Imagine the infamously grumpy genocidal Thragg and then here's his like 4 year old wanting to play wrestle and trying to pin him and you're no match for him of course but like it's not, real, he's "gently" deflecting you or breaking your hold but still actually praising you in that, Thragg dad way, "your stance is too weak to take down an opponent of my size, but you're improving" " your siblings usually tire by now; you seem to have more endurance than most of my other children your age. Excellent" and then your little baby mouth gives him a kiss on the cheek and he has to go subjugate another planet to feel manly again.

I feel like yandad Thragg and Nolan are unironically those characters that are like, they could be in the middle of a war zone and they're easily winning and you go upstairs to see what they're thinking about, surely they're thinking about something serious, and it's just "I need to hurry this up and get back to my child" or "I wonder what my little warrior is doing right now" like straight up like the father from Father I Don't Want This Marriage

Yandere Thragg and Nolan are all "oh it's part of the Viltrum way to mate and procreate and boost our numbers" and Reader comes along "hey dad this is my new boyfriend--" and suddenly they turn into like, Christian fundamentalists. "Um actually that Viltrumite male is even older than I am 🤓 you are still so young and should be enjoying the fruits of your youth 🤓 you are too young to have children"

I feel like though like if you ever did manage to sneak off and get pregnant or get someone else pregnant that, specifically Nolan would adore his new grand baby and would do anything for this chubby cutie 🥺❤️ also imagine the horror if he's not even your blood dad, just obsessive self proclaimed stalker yandere shit, but you can't run away from him and he's finds you and your baby and instantly declares himself grandpa, like. Now you have to worry about protecting yourself and your baby from "PawPaw"

So like. Future spoilers I guess? Not super significant in my opinion, but, there's a period of time where there's like a truce of sorts between Earth and Viltrum, right, to keep it vague and less spoiler heavy. Imagine being like, Nolan's kid, or adopted kid, or like, neighbor who turned out to be a hybrid that he yoinked into his house or whatever, and like, after there's been some fighting, Thragg is impressed with your strength and potential and seems to be scouting you out a little. Now you've got TWO older Viltrumite males trying to father you, "my apologies Grand Regent but I was just about to take this one out to teach them how to fly better" "that is unnecessary; i shall be the one to tutor the youngling" meanwhile you're just like uhhhhh I'm not actually a big fan of how EITHER of you treat me-"

bruhhhh all hell breaks loose when you finally lose it and fly straight off the planet to try and start a new life elsewhere without them cuz then these two are TEAMING UP and they're feeding into each other, "I bet they were convinced to leave by that one male, the one who we had to warn before" "and that's why you're weak Nolan. I wanted to kill him but you didn't want to hurt the youth's feelings, and now what's happened? They're probably eloping as we speak" "no, I won't make the same mistake twice. He'll die a slow death"

You're on like some alien planet surrounded by like simple little ewoks or some shit who treat you like a water god because you dug a well for them or something and here comes Thragg and Nolan touchdown slamming onto the planet's surface and leaving craters behind, scaring the birds, the animals, your new little cute alien friends huddling behind you for protection, and you're getting SCOLDED SCOLDED. like one minute your new little like moogle friend is teaching you how to bake some kind of bread and the next minute, "AND JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOURE DOING HERE" and you're jumping to see two pissed pissed PISSED Viltrumites

"O-oh, uh, I thought I made it clear when I left--"

"The only thing that you've made clear is that you're too unpredictable and naive to be left alone"

"What were you THINKING?! You could've gotten lost, hurt, captured, or worse! And leaving Viltrum for, what?! Are these your pets? We can enslave a few and take them with us if you like em so much"

"If you EVER leave without my permission as Grand Regent again I'll reduce whatever backwater rock you stumble off to into nothing more than rubble floating through the stars, is that understood?"

"..."

"Answer him!"

'*sigh* yes, sirs"

"That's FATHER to you"

" - and Dad!"

#yandere invincible #yandere x reader #sinprompts #yandere stuff #these two always at each othsrs throats and then one day you just catch them sitting down talking about you #bonding over their. uh. attachment and surveillance of you

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bokuroar · 9 months

Text

𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗸𝘆𝘂𝘂!! 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 & 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 “oh.” 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻t (pt. 2)

↬ you can find part 1 here ♡ i was supposed to use another song but i wanted to stick with the theme of the first part ^^ enjoy !

↬ hq characters (osamu, iwaizumi, kenma, daichi) x gn!reader

ꕤ you open the door to welcome osamu and the heavy grocery bags he cradles in his arms. without so much as saying hello, he automatically lets himself in kicking his shoes off in your apartment. with stuffy nose you ask him, “what’re you doing here at 10 in the morning? doesn’t your shop open at 9?” osamu chuckles, his warm smile spreading across his face. "it does, but i couldn't stay away any longer, you’re a mess who needs to eat." he jests. throughout the day, osamu stays by your side, bringing you comfort and joy with every gesture. he makes you soup, entertains you with funny videos thanks to his twin, and even brings over a stack of your favorite books to read together. it’s like he knows exactly what you need without you having to say a word. oh.

ꕤ “we better walk fast, ‘zumi. looks like it’s gonna pour anytime soon.” you mumble as you look up to the looming clouds and instinctively reach your hand out to feel any droplets. iwaizumi brings out his old, trusted, albeit rusty umbrella that you swear he had since god knows when. he sheepishly smiles, “can’t have you sick now, can we?” as you continue walking, you engage in light banter and reminisce about old times. the conversation flows effortlessly, just like it always does when you're together. "you remember that time we got caught in a torrential downpour during our first year of high school?" iwaizumi asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "how could i forget? good thing we found that cafe to hide in until the rain stopped.” you reply. "yeah, and then we spent hours talking and laughing we didn't notice they needed to close the shop." iwaizumi recalls fondly and adds, "that was the day i knew we'd be friends for a long time." he smiles warmly, his gaze softening as he looks at you. uh oh.

ꕤ “ah, am i hearing this right? the kodzuken challenging me to beat him in a video game?!” you jokingly gasp at your longtime friend, kenma, who only rolled his eyes at your mockery. “stop acting weird, this won’t be the first time i beat you,” he smirks. you grin, accepting the challenge with a competitive glint in your eye. the game began and you both immersed yourselves in the virtual world. as the match progressed, you notice kenma's occasional slip-ups, as if he was letting you win. "are you sure you're not going easy on me?" you tease. he blushes slightly, trying to hide his intentions. "you wish. you just had practice," he replies, his eyes betraying a hint of affection. after a thrilling game, you emerged victorious. "looks like you owe me that boba," you retort playfully, savoring the taste of triumph. in that moment, kenma smiles, realizing that he felt more of a winner in making you smile than winning a video game. oh no.

ꕤ holidays are better spent with people. the more the merrier, at least that’s what daichi’s household believes in. and his big family isn’t enough, daichi always celebrates with his close friends—including you. amidst the ongoing debate which is the best christmas dessert, he turns to you, "i’m so glad you could make it today. my family loves having you around during celebrations." you smile warmly, "i wouldn't miss it for the world, dai. your family and our friends always make these holidays unforgettable." as the holiday cheer enveloped the room, daichi's eyes were fixed on you as you engage with his younger siblings. you had picked out thoughtful gifts for each of them, and he watches with a mix of fondness and admiration as they unwrapped your presents, their faces lighting up with joy and gratitude. he could get used to this. oh?

a/n: i can’t not write this bec of the love the part 1 got T____T i wanna hug all of u !! thank u !!! 🥹🤎 ik this took such a long time but still hope you liked reading this just as much hehehe <3

thanks for stopping by ☕️ talk to me?

#Spotify #✍️.haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x y/n #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #kenma x reader #daichi x reader #kenma kozume #daichi suwamura

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extremelyblackandwhite · 7 months

Text

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: sorry for the delay in this chapter, i fell asleep early last friday and then woke up at like 2AM and felt like watching Barbie instead. anyway, here it is.

masterlist

your wicked smile it says it all mixed with my sad and cynical

Y/N couldn't have followed the nurse faster the moment they told her Sadie was out of the operation room. She couldn't wait to be next to her, to see her. She already didn't like the idea that she hadn't been able to see hr before surgery so now all she wanted to do was not leave her sight. She was led by the nurse into the room they'd assigned Sadie. Once she got to the room, Sadie was already awake, looking at the TV in her room which was showing some cartoon that Y/N was certain Sadie was confused by, judging by her pouting and fiddling of the sheets.

- Hi baby. - Y/N said as she got closer to Sadie. The red head turned around, smiling once she saw her. - What are you watching huh?

The 2-year old looked at her with glazed eyes, still under the effects of anaesthesia and other medications before shrugging. Y/N smiled, kissing her cheek and nose before grabbing the remote and logging into Disney so she could put on some Bluey for Sadie to watch. Her pout soon disappeared as the familiar blue heeler showed up on screen. Y/N straightened the sheets around her, trying to fluff up the pillow only to find it to be flatter than a pancake.

- Hello, hello. - Bucky walked through the door carrying the toy box to place it next to the bed. - How are you, Sisi? Hm? You gave daddy a very big fright.

- Sorry. - Sadie stared at the TV, more interested on the TV show. Bucky scanned through the box before starting to place her favourite plushies around her.

- You got quite a tough one, Sergeant. - Doctor Tinsdale walked into the room, holding a medical board. - Surgery went well and unless something happens, you can take your daughter home. In 2 to 4 weeks, she'll be good as new.

- Thank you. - Bucky shook the doctor's hand. - I really appreciate your help, Dr. Tinsdale.

- Anytime, Sergeant. I'm very glad to have met your daughter and your wife.

Y/N looked up from the bed where she was with Sadie. Should she correct him? She wasn't Bucky's wife but if she said she wasn't maybe Dr. Tinsdale would put two and two together and realise that Sadie was not Y/N's daughter but instead his own daughter's daughter.

- I'm really happy you finally settled down. - Dr. Tinsdale said, making the situation as equally awkward for Bucky. - Always thought you and my Anna would end up marrying but it doesn't look like you've done bad for yourself.

- Yeah ... well ... - Bucky scratched the back of his neck. - Thank you once again.

- I'll leave you three alone.

The door closed and the silence in the room couldn't be any louder. Y/N got to trying to fluff up the pillow again, going nowhere. What's the point in paying a really expensive health insurance if the hospital will only provide crepe thin pillows?

- You're gonna be sued by that pillow if you continue to beat the heck out of it. - he chuckled, sitting on the opposite side of the bed, cuddling Sadie next to her.

- Don't say the h word in front of Sadie. - she gave up on the pillow. - I'm gonna go to the gift shop and see if I can buy Sadie a better pillow.

- Y/N, just rest. - Bucky put his hand on her waist to stop her from getting up. - You've been panicking over everything for the past hours. Just sit here with me and Sadie.

- But she needs a pi ...

- I'll tell Steve to bring hers from home when he comes to visit. - he took his phone out of his pocket to text Steve. - By the way ... who did you call? Chris?

- You're obsessed with Chris. - she rolled her eyes, tucking Sadie in and moving her hair away from her face. - If I didn't know better I'd say you're in love with him.

- You know, Anna showed up while you were asleep.

- Really? - Y/N fiddled with the bedding, looking at the TV and now the very interesting episode of Bluey. More interesting than Bucky and his relentless teasing. - Nice chat?

- It's just funny you see because I didn't call her and Steve said he didn't call her.

- Maybe Dr. Tinsdale called her. After all you two used to ... you know ... do things.

- Why would he call her? He thinks you're my wife and Sadie's mum so why don't you cut the lying and admit to calling Anna?

Y/N bite her lip, kissing the side of Sadie's head before telling her she would be right back. Last thing she wanted was to fight in front of Sadie, for all that Sadie knew she and Bucky only talked nice and it was all sunshine and rainbows. Bucky followed her, arms crossed. He didn't know where to find himself if angry or if super angry. How come Steve and Y/N wanted to keep playing peace makers?

- What's with you starting a discussion in front of Sadie?

- What's with me? What's with you? You called my kid's mother without my consent?

- It's not like I fucked her, Bucky, you big drama queen. I called her because you were upset about her not being here.

- You crossed a line. - he pointed at her but she looked at him unbothered. - It's my kid's mother, the most awful woman in the world.

- I think that's an overstatement and you were upset, I wanted you to be happy. Besides, she birthed the kid, it's her right to know if she's ok or not.

- Oh you need me to be happy?

- I don't need you to happy! I just wanted to make you ... have you be happy. You were stressed!

- God, you're such a little ... such a goddamn little ...

- Bitch? - Y/N interrupted him and the colour drained from Bucky's face.

- I didn't say that. - he raised his hands in defense. - I didn't say that.

- Now you listen to me. - she stabbed his chest with her finger, taking a step forward as he took a step backward. - I will not apologise for telling the kid's mother that she's in the hospital. I will not apologise for telling her because if something happened, we might need her. I will not apologise, you hear me? If that makes me a bitch then be it. You wanna fire me? Fine.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something but instead just mumbled sorry before going back to his daughter's room. He thought he needed Anna to be here and she had been here so why wasn't he happy? Y/N stayed outside, she took a deep breathe. Had she crossed the line? Maybe, but she wanted him happy. She dragged her hands down her hair, holding them to the side of her face, closing her eyes.

- Wow, you told him. - a voice made her snap her eyes open. A woman, an elegant woman, made her way towards her. - The rival companies ought to hire you.

- I'm sorry, who are you?

- I'm Anna. Anna Tinsdale. - she extended her hand towards her but Y/N only stared at her hand. - I wanted to meet you, well, meet you while you're awake. You did tell me you'd kill me if I didn't come to see Bucky.

- Y/N. - she shook her hand slowly. - I ... I should get back inside before Sadie ...

- Is she ok? Sadie? - Anna asked, a clear look of concern across her face.

Y/N felt a tang on her stomach, before giving her a sympathetic smile. She put her hand on Anna's back and guided her far from the room. Last thing that she wanted was for Bucky, Sadie or even Dr. Tinsdale to see Anna. Instead, the two walked to the waiting room and sat on the green chairs against the wall.

- He doesn't tell me anything and just because I don't want to be her mother doesn't mean I don't worry. I mean, she came out of me for fucks sake. - she looked up. - I know you hate me.

- I don't. I don't like you but I don't hate you either.

- Me and James, we were friends and more than that for so long and I know that we'll never gonna get that but he just hates me now.

- He doesn't hate you. - Y/N sighed. - He's just upset and you didn't do things the best way. I don't think Bucky actually hates anything.

Anna looked at Y/N before giving her a smile.

- I'm glad she has you. - she held Y/N's hand, letting go before getting up. - Thank you for that. I'm glad she has you.

- It'll get better. Give it time.

- Not for me, but for you ... well, you'll see.

(...)

Sadie was a trooper. She'd come back home and was behaving as if she hadn't had surgery, mostly staying either in her room or in the living room whenever she got tired of the room. Y/N was cutting vegetables in the kitchen to make soup when the bell rang. She looked down at the RING camera screen on the kitchen seeing Chris. Fuck, she'd completely forgotten about Chris. She buzzed him in, before cleaning up her hands and opening the door. Chris stood there, wearing a long coat and a no doubt designer scarf while holding a bouquet of daisies.

- Chris, hi.

- Hey, Y/N. - he handed her the daisies. - How are you? I haven't heard from you in a while.

- Oh you know ... - Y/N walked to the kitchen to grab a vase to put the flowers in. - Sadie got back from the hospital and I've been looking after her.

- What about her father? Bucky hasn't left the company.

- Bucky has work to do while I'm waiting for my supervisors to give me the final feedback on my thesis draft. - she looked at him, not wanting to get into a discussion which loomed over them. - Besides, Bucky usually takes her from 5 PM onwards.

- So, you are free from 5PM?

- Most days yes. - she leaned against the counter - Listen I'm sorry about not speaking to you for the past days, Sadie just got back from the hospital and I don't wanna leave her alone.

- If you're free from 5PM, I could take you to dinner.

- Chris ... - she sighed.

- Doesn't have to be too far. Heck, we could go to the tapas place around the corner so you won't be too far from Sadie.

She found herself at a crossroads. She either said yes and avoided a discussion or she said no and the two would go round 4 on how Y/N spends most of her time with Sadie rather than living her own life. Right now, she preferred the first option.

- Okay.

- I'll pick you up.

(...)

Bucky came home and Sadie was wrapped in one of her quilted blankets, staring at the screen while Bluey played. How she hadn't gotten bored of it was still a surprise for him. He put his coat on the hanger and went to the couch, kissing the top of her head before starting to tickle her making her giggle.

- What are you up to, bug? - he asked, straightening the blanket. - Still making a report on Bluey?

- No.

- No? Is this for fun then? - he leaned against the couch as Sadie cuddled against his side. - How are you today, bug? Any pain?

- No.

- Good. Where is Y/N? Have you banished her?

- I'm here. - Y/N came down the stairs, holding a pair of heels in one hand and trying to put on her earrings with the other. - I'm here.

And here she was. Maybe she had decided to adopt a more formal style around the house, parading around in a black cocktail dress and an updo.

- New dress?

- No. - Y/N said, moving around to tidy up some of the rubbish that had started to accumulate in the living room. - Chris is coming to pick me up for dinner.

- God, you're still going out with him. - he got up to follow Y/N to the kitchen. - You don't even like the guy.

- Yes, I do. He brought flowers.

- That would mean he likes you, not the other way around. Just admit it, he's boring and you don't like him.

- I'll remember that once he's balls deep inside of me tonight.

- Can't go that deep. - he chuckled. - You're just being stubborn. Or you're people pleasing. Either way, you don't really like him.

- And you would know that because?

- Because you've been dodging the guy since Sadie got to the hospital. Heck, you've been even using me as an excuse not to see him.

- Is that all? I'm too tired to put up with you. - she threw her shoes to the ground to step onto them.

- Why are you forcing this? So he's bad in bed, find someone who isn't.

- He's not bad in bed.

- Y/N, I know when a woman is satisfied in bed. I pride myself in it.

- Oh yes because you are Bucky Barnes, lord of everything with tits.

- You're a scholarly woman, don't use that sort of language.

- Fine, mammary glands. - she rolled her eyes. - What makes you think that you're the only guy who's good in bed? I'll have you know that Chris is a gentleman.

�� - So he cries in bed.

- Why are we still discussing my sex life?

- Fine. If it's not your sex life, then what is it? He is very boring but I thought maybe the two of you could discuss Columbia or something.

- We're seeing each other, Bucky. But of course you wouldn't know about that since your idea of seeing someone is fucking their brains out.

Bucky cocked his head to the side, eyeing her up and down before walking up to her and leaning down to whisper in her ear.

- Why? Are you jealous?

- Urgh. - she pushed him away. - Sadie needs to go to bed by 7, Bucky. Not 9, or she'll be a little demon.

- I would say have fun but we both know that won't happen. Maybe you should take a book not to bother yourself too much with him.

- Maybe you should butt out of my life!

(...)

How dare he continue with this chatter? Y/N liked Chris. He was nice, he was perfectly nice. Sure, did he have anything else they conversed with other than Columbia? Usually no and his theories on modern psychology vastly diverted from hers. Yet, she was a scholar, a future member of the postdoctoral community and as such she had to accept different perceptions of theory. Moreover, who was Bucky Barnes to dish out relationship advise? The only woman she had thought had potential to be his girlfriend had been thrown aside by Bucky because, according to him, she had a weird attachment to her ex girlfriend. So, how come a man who hadn't dated a woman in probably more than 20 years had to weigh in on her relationship? Heck, he didn't even date the woman who was the mother of his child.

She looked at Chris as he continued to thrust into her. She wasn't entirely sure how long this had been going on but she did know she had checked her watch once. Was Bucky right? Was Chris boring in bed? No. No, this was just him doing what he does best, manipulating people into believing his words. Besides, what gave him the right to decide who was good or not in bed? Like, c'mon, he was attractive sure but not all attractive men are good in bed. Yet again, she had heard whispers and she had to admit he had one of those voices that dripped with lust and sin every time he used it in a whisper.

She thought about it, thought about how it would be to have him whisper dirty something in someone's ear in that accent of his. How his chapped lips would kiss down from her ear down to her neck in a prolongation of a tease, his hand skilfully toying with her clit. Now that was a man who wouldn't be a gentleman in the bedroom, he was barely one outside of it. He'd be the type to grab your hips and thrust into you without warning, moving like an animal until his everlasting stamina ran out. He'd be the type to grunt and moan against your ear.

- James. - oh fuck. Chris starred at Y/N for a while, trying to compute what she had just said. He knew what she had just said.

Fuck. Oh, fuck.

- What was that?

- What was what? - maybe playing dumb would work. After all, it worked in old romantic movies. Maybe she could say she meant Thames yet who would moan over a river in the middle of less than exciting sex.

- You moaned someone else's name.

- Did I? - she hated herself. She hated to play the fool but she wasn't about to admit she was fantasising, wait, no, not fantasising, she wasn't fantasising about anyone, she was merely theorising about what sex with Bucky Barnes would be. Theory, not practice, not truth. - Shit, I'm sorry, I don't know where my head is.

- I'll say. - Chris slipped out of her, pulling the comforter over the two of them. - You really need to quit that job. Your head hasn't been in the right place for the past month.

Thank god he hadn't connected the dots. That would be an awkward conversation.

- I'm not gonna quit my job. I like my job.

- That's not your job, Y/N. C'mon, you're gonna have a PhD in no time and then you'll actually have to go in the real world and get a real job.

- What is that supposed to mean, Christopher?

- Barnes has you playing housewife. Face it, you look after his kid, you cook, you do laundry. You're basically his wife without the sex. It's a waste of your potential.

- So you're saying being a housewife is a waste of potential?

- That's not what I meant. I'm saying you could do more than adhere to traditional stereotypes of your gender just so you can make a paycheck.

- Just so I can make a pay check? Christopher, while you may have been born with a goddamn gold spoon in your mouth, I wasn't. Do you know how expensive rent is in New York? You think I could afford even to breathe here solely on my stipend? No! That job you think is so below me is the only reason why I have a roof over my head and don't have to worry if my monthly stipend will cover my expenses or if my manager will mind me skipping a day of work to focus on my studies. Besides, I'll be damned if I'll take feminist theories from a trust fund man baby. - she got out of bed, grabbing her shoes and her dress.

- C'mon, Y/N, I'm just trying to help you. I want you to be able to do what you enjoy. You're telling me looking after a two year old is what you envision as career?

- I have career ambitions. I know where I'm going, I don't need your help.

- You don't even know if you're passing your PhD viva. - he said which made Y/N snap her head to look at him. - Maybe if you spent more time at school instead of being at Barnes even beckoning call, you'll have more certainty is what I mean.

- Fuck you, Christopher!

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#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky/reader #bucky x you #bucky/You #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n

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fartlovingblkguy69 · 2 months

Text

A Flight to Be Remembered (Part 2). “You better not try anything! I don’t get fucked! I do the fucking! And I hope you’re ready to take this big dick up that sexy ass of yours! I’ll up your tip to $10 if you let me cum in that sweet Georgia peach!” This really sealed the deal for Tim. Logan wanted to get ridden, huh? He was about to get the ride of his life! Tim dipped his face back down between the musty cheeks and quietly grabbed Logan’s belt as well as his own. He quickly grabbed the 35 year old’s arms and tied them behind his back with his own belt before flipping him over. “I’m gonna ride you so good sir! But you’re gonna have to be a good boy to get this action! Get your tongue in there and find out how sweet this peach is!” Tim exclaimed as he backed his ass up to Josh’s entitled face. As Josh began to very half-assedly lick the outer rim of Tim’s hole he began to hump the air, demanding that Tim sit down on him and start riding or he’d kick him out and give him nothing! So Tim did just as requested! He sat down! But not on Josh’s dick like he wanted! No, he sat hard on his nose and squirmed until he could feel his hole being penetrated. He sat there for a minute and then decided to give Josh some air and let him have one more chance to stop being a dick before things proceed. As soon as he got up though, Josh began yelling expletives, telling him to get the fuck out and that this is why he doesn’t bother with worthless faggots, etc. and so Tim wrapped the second belt around Josh’s legs and then rocked back and once again buried that nose in his hole. This time however, he began to push and out came a long, loud fart! Bbbbbbrrrrrrrrtttttttttttttt “Ah! Been holding that one in for a while! Now that I have your attention, let me tell you how this is going to go. My stomach hurts and I’m full of gas and I’m going to let it all out up your nose. If you’re good, I’ll take my $5 and call it even. If you’re not…well in a little bit gas won’t be the only thing assaulting my hole and your face! Sound fair?” he said as he lifted slightly for Josh to answer. “Hell no! I don’t have to put up with this! I’m going to get you fired! Then I’m gonna press charges and have you thrown in jail! Then I’m gonna get your family fired from their jobs and take their house in punitive damages!” Well that was enough! Tim knew what had to be done! He plopped his ass back down, jiggling his cheeks and rubbing his aching stomach.

Sssssssppppppppprrrrrrtttttt bbbbbbrrrrrrrttttt

Ffffffsssssssshhhhhh

pppffffpfFFRRAAAAAPPPpppppfffssss

BRUUUUUUUMMMMPPPRRRRTTTTzzzzzzz

PrRRrrRRRFFfffumppppbroooumppttt

PHHHRUUUUMMMMMTTTTTSSS

Tim began to empty his stomach with fart after fart, rubbing his belly and sighing in relief while Josh struggled for air. The struggling beneath him was getting him hard and he started to stroke his 8 inches while he let loose! He also called down to the front desk and ordered room service: a pizza with extra cheese, a vanilla milkshake, and chocolate milk to be exact. When the food came, he took Josh’s own dirty undies, brought them to his hole, dug inside and let out a long silent fart before shoving them in Josh’s mouth as a gag. He sat back on Josh’s face and wolfed down his food and milk and watched tv while he waited, ripping ass whenever he needed for the next 30 minutes. Suddenly he felt a huge pain in his stomach, sharp and churning and he knew it was time!

He leaned forward just enough to pull the nasty undies out of Josh’s mouth and said, “Had enough? You done being an asshole to people now? Cause we can keep going all night if you want, but it’s about to get real nasty for you!” “Fuck you! I’ll do whatever I want to whoever I want! I’m gonna be your conjugal visit in prison! I can’t wait to bend you over and fuck you raw with no lube! Then I’m gonna pay the biggest, baddest prisoners to have their way with you all day long at least once a week and to beat the stuffing out of your weak, gay ass!” He went on and on, ranting and raving for 5 minutes. And then he noticed the big smile on Tim’s face. “That’s about what I was hoping you’d say. This is gonna feel great, therapeutic even! So thank you in advance! You just volunteered to be my human toilet! And just in the nick of time! I am so bloated! It’s time for all that food and gas to come out! Open wide for me now!” He quipped while backing his hairy dirty hole up to his mouth with his cheeks spread while his pucker pulsed with anticipation. He sat down with his ass lips meeting Josh’s mouth lips and then began to slap Josh’s stomach and dick, lightly at first to get him hard and then harder to make him scream. When he felt satisfied he began to push.

Brrrrrrrrrrtttttttttttt

Ppppppffffffffffffffftttttttttt

Ssssssshhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

Fffffffssssssssssssshhhhhhh

Sssssppppppprrrrrrrreeeeeeeettttttttt

The farts got wetter and wetter until finally his hole opened real wide and out pushed a thick 10 inch log into Josh’s mouth which was being pried open by the giant turd itself. Tim sat there rubbing his stomach in relief and practically smothered Josh saying “There’s a lot more up there! You’re taking it all, just a matter of whether it’ll be the easy way or the hard way! My stomach still hurts so it’s about to get real wet too!” And with that, he pushed out another thick, 8 inch long log that forced the first one down and stretched Josh’s mouth open once again. Then cutting the end off the chocolate milk he made a makeshift funnel which he shoved in Josh’s mouth, wrapping the dirty underwear around it and then pushing his hole against the other end. Tim knew this was gonna be bad! His stomach was still churning so this wouldn’t be a small amount! He began to push.

Ssssssssssppppppppllllllllllllluuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrtttttttttttt

He released his nasty diarrhea, chunky mush that wasn’t quite liquid, but definitely not solid and filled the bottle to the brim. He held it steady and plugged Josh’s nose forcing him to swallow in order to take in any air and then repeated this exercise 5 more times! By the time he completed the last one, his hole and his dick were both dripping with wetness and he managed to cum on top of the stinking pile that fillled the makeshift funnel in his victim’s mouth before sliding forward. He slowly pumped Josh’s dick until it reached his full 7 1/2 inches and then using his shit as lune slid down on the dick, gripping and riding it making the jerk gasp with pleasure and at the same time swallow his nasty shit. He let him cum in his tight hole before he got up, sat down once again on the funnel, and let out one more very wet blast. Watery cum/shit mixture flew down Josh’s throat as he passed out from the whole ordeal and Tim quietly slipped $100 from his wallet and headed out in to the night.

#male farts #face farts #fart kink #gay shit #im lactose intolerant #human toilet #hairy male #gassy farts

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billthedrake · 8 months

Text

PRE-FROSH (CHAPTER TWO)

This story is a sequel to "Dad's New Life."

We were just playing video games, enjoying the Sunday afternoon hanging out in my brother Connor's room in the SigEp house. Connor was even beating me, but I could tell he was in a pissy mood. And I had a good idea what was bugging him.

"I'm gonna hit up Daddy Mike later," I said, addressing the elephant in the room.

I heard my big brother's deep sigh. "Dude, you gonna spend your whole fucking weekend with that guy?"

I paused the game. I got along great with Connor normally but things had been building up all weekend. "Bro, what the fuck?! You want me to go to some stupid art museum with you or something, I'll do it. Otherwise, yeah I'm gonna go get laid." It was a dumb outburst and more than a little ungrateful, because Connor was the one putting me up for the long weekend. I'd been clamoring for some time away from my tiny hometown and some independence from my parents. I should be grateful to my brother.

My brother let out an annoyed sigh. Not to sell myself short, but my older bro got the looks in the family. Dirty blond, green eyes, dimples that set off his smile. I had some of that but looked more like a regular jock, not a heartthrob movie star. Moments like this, when Connor got pissy, were the only time he lost his handsome attractiveness.

"You know Mike's just a slut, right?"

I was getting annoyed now. "Yeah, fuck, I know," I growled. "I don't fucking care. At least he doesn't treat me like a kid."

"He's too busy robbing the cradle," my brother shot back. "Dude's older than Dad."

Jesus, this weekend should be about fun. And it was fun. Hanging out with my big brother, experiencing fraternity life, enjoying a real college party, and getting majorly laid. I'd gone over to Mike's condo for a quickie session Saturday afternoon, and Jase didn't say anything. But now that I was sharing morning texts with Daddy Mike and planning a repeat, his mood had turned.

"You've done him, too," I replied.

Connor was silent now. Maybe I couldn't have my cake and eat it too. I'd either be an honorary bro for the weekend, the prefrosh, or I'd be listening to my dick.

Sex with a man, an older man, was a new toy, and I was enjoying the hell out of it. It was almost addictive. Well, no "almost" about it. Still, I didn't want to relent on the prefrosh experience. Even if my brother had a date that night, it would be cool to hang out with the brothers, get high and watch dumb TV.

"I'm sorry, Connor," I said. My voice more contrite. "I'll hang out here at the house. I know you promised Mom and Dad you'd watch me."

Now my brother seemed to change attitude. He looked over at me with a look of sympathy, or understanding. "You into him, Jase?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, man," I tried to explain. "I know it's nothing real, but you know, after hiding myself through high school, it feels real nice to be with a man without any hang ups."

Connor smirked. "My little bro getting a little crushed out?" Maybe the understanding was gone, replaced by the need to tease me.

"Crushed out on a fucking 51 year old," I laughed. "So fucking stupid."

Connor nudged my arm, letting me know it was OK. "How bout this, Jase? I have my date tonight. You can go over to Mike's. Just be back by 10 or so."

I normally hated when Connor would get bossy with me, like he was my fucking parent, but I knew he was responsible for me. This seemed like a good compromise.

I probably had a dumb smile on my face when I picked up my phone to text Mike. We set up a time for me to come over.

And yeah, the man wrote some pretty lewd shit about how he was gonna take care of my dick.

****

The rest of the day was normal. Connor took me to the university gym as a guest and I had a good workout. When we got back, Connor got ready for his date - some sorority girl he met a couple weeks ago - and I realized I kind of was doing the same, showering and slicking my hair down with product. I had only casual lax-jock clothes but I figured Daddy Mike wouldn't mind. But fuck I wanted this to be a date, even if the guy was a man whore.

I did stop on the way and pick up some flowers, and Mike had a big grin when he opened the door to see me standing there with a fucking bouquet.

"Great to see ya, kiddo," he grinned, leaning in to give me a quick peck. I'd been scrolling through his social media and saw Daddy Mike used to have a mustache but now seemed to sport a continual stubble flecked with silver facial hair. And while he had a military-short buzz cut for a while, he was growing out the salt-and-pepper hair in an almost professional-banker cut, which was slicked down with product.

"For me?" he said looking at the flowers. "That's sweet buddy." He took them and then showed me inside.

I needn't worry about dressing casual. Daddy Mike had on some sweatpants that clung to his meaty ass, as well as one of his faded Chicago Bears T-shirts. I knew he was freshly showered by his damp salt-and-pepper hair and the fresh cologne smell he had.

"I like your cologne," I said as I followed him into his open plan kitchen, where he rifled through the cabinets to pull out a vase for the flowers.

Mike flashed me a grin and told me the brand. "You wouldn't believe how many guys tell me it's the one their fathers wore... it's like fucking pheromones."

When Mike had first dropped the dad-son idea with me, it kind of weirded me out, but in the course of two days I realized I was kind of getting into it. I still didn't want to fuck my actual dad or anything. But I loved how the incest idea amplified the age difference between me and Mike, and yet somehow made an emotional connection out of pure, tawdry sex.

Still, I had to ask. "Do a lot of guys you meet have Daddy issues?"

The guy placed the bouquet in the water, arranging it quickly in the vase. "Not all, but a lot do. It's fun," he said.

Part of me was self conscious he'd try to figure out if I put myself in the Daddy Issues category, but he didn't seem fazed either way. Instead, Mike stepped up to me. We were pretty matched in height. I had an inch or so on him, but he was of course bigger, beefier, and more muscular. His hands felt great on my waist as he pulled me gently toward him. "High school kid isn't as shy now is he?" Mike teased.

I felt the warmth of his body and yeah, I was getting fully hard. "Nope," I said, now taking the initiative to reach behind and dig my fingers beneath the waistband of his sweats. Unsurprisingly Daddy Mike wasn't wearing underwear and I felt the hard hairy brawn of his ass. Mike had a crazy big ass.

"Go right for the prize, buddy," Mike grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

Fuck, this guy knew how to push my buttons. Nothing tentative about his kiss, Mike was eagerly sexual and yet knew how not to go full charge with the tongue. Instinctively, I knew he was waiting for me to take charge of the kiss, so I did. I groped this 51-year-old's ass while we made out in the kitchen.

"Fuck before dinner?" Mike finally asked in a growl. He'd offered to feed me take out pizza, but indeed sex seemed more appealing just then. I nodded.

And like that we were making our way to the bedroom. Mike peeled off that beat up T and tossed it into the corner. "Almost didn't put on clothes today," he smiled, and then I watched him pull his sweats down over his thick boner, showing off how hairy his crotch and legs were.

I was feeling overdressed, catching up in stripping off my clothes as Mike pulled the covers down on his bed and climbed on, his big muscled body making the mattress dip slightly. There was a big industrial sized pump container of lube next to the bed, along with a vial of what I knew to be poppers. But mostly my gaze was on this hot stud and the way his eyes seemed to me eat up. I may have been the fucker, but Mike was the hunter and I was his prey. I was A-OK with that.

"I bet you're gonna go wild when you get back to your hometown stud," he said as he watched me push down my briefs, freeing my large hardon.

"I wish," I said. Maybe this is one thing that drew me to the man. How he encouraged me, let me think I could be balling any guy I wanted. My dick jerked hard at the idea.

"Trust me," Mike hissed. "A dick like that... and that fucking body. You're jacked as hell for 18."

"Thanks," I said. A conceited part of me knew I was a hot jock, and I certainly put in a LOT of work to build my body. But the no-nonsense complement was so different than the way buddies and I complimented each other.

I got on the bed and crawled on top of Mike's reclined frame. He welcomed me and once again, we were making out. I don't know how I learned bedroom technique, but I knew to take our time. I took charge of the kiss now and made it nice and slow, feeling up Mike's body and humping him gently. He loved that, and I felt a wild satisfaction that I was being a skilled lover with a man this experienced.

Daddy Mike had a goofy grin when I finally broke the kiss and leaned up to admire his handsome face.

"What?" I asked, with a chuckle.

"I dunno," the man said with almost a shyness. "I just... well, I've met my share of lacrosse jocks, and usually they don't have the smooth moves like you."

That made me hard as fuck. My dick twitched and leaked against his hardon. "Yeah?" I growled.

Mike nodded. "They're usually more hard charging in bed," he said.

I thrust into him and gripped his chest with one hand while I held my upper body up with the other arm. "Oh, I can do hard charging," I teased.

"I bet you fucking can, Pre Frosh."

With a determined move, I kicked apart Mike's legs with my own thighs.

"Fuck YEAH!" Mike growled.

I gave him the lustiest look I could before turning to reach over to pump out some lube. I thought of Connor's taunt earlier, than Mike was a slut. He certainly had the bedroom set up like he took on many men, regularly. But as I slicked my cock up, I didn't care. If I was getting a whore, I was getting one for free.

Mike was now doing some of the work pulling back his legs for me.

I looked down. Here was a man almost three times my age, about 230 pounds of beef splayed out for me. I could see Mike's hole. Crinkled, definitely used, a little gape to it.

I wanted to eat it. I'd never rimmed of course, but I'd seen it plenty in porn and figured the guy could tell me if he didn't want me to eat him out.

Only as I crouched down and nestled my nose in his crack, I heard a soft "hell yes, kiddo." I stuck my tongue out. The whole didn't taste of much, mostly a little of the soap Mike had used in his shower. I licked around the ring and decided I was into this, a LOT. His daddy hole was warm and inviting and practically sucked my tongue in. I pushed forward, prodding into his more tender membrane just inside. Pure clean male hole. I wondered what the dudes on the team would say if they saw me now. I used to be afraid and ashamed of being a homo, but now I wished they could watch. The wilder I went, the deeper Daddy Mike's grunts got. This was hot, nasty sex. Men's sex.

I didn't want to extend the foreplay too much the first time out, but I took my time. And when I pulled back I wiped my chin and looked up to see the sex-dazed expression on the man's face.

"Damn stud," Mike said. "You know hot to eat a cunt."

Everything about Daddy Mike's lewdness was making me turned on to stuff I never would be. Like the c-word.

"You got an incredible cunt, Daddy."

"It's yours Pre-Frosh."

I grinned and scooted into place. The fucks before had been quick ones. I mean, there was something special about losing my assfucking cherry to this man, but I already knew this mating session was going to be special. I lined up my slick rod to that slightly puffed, gaping hole and let it nestle in the indentation.

"I'm gonna be jock-fucked aren't I?" Mike was definitely a talker.

I tried to go along with the sex talk. "Well, you're a slut... so yeah."

I immediately regretted saying that once I did, though.

Thankfully Mike just chuckled. "You like sluts, Jason?" He seemed to call me everything but my real name, so it came as a surprise.

"Maybe," I grinned, glad he wasn't taking offense. Then, more assured. "Yeah."

Mike kept some of his lusty smile but his eyes swept up and down my body. "18 and hung as fuck... goddamn."

I pushed into him. The slut hole was not tight but it didn't clamp down some as I entered him. It was exquisite, warm and wet. "I'm not the biggest you've taken, am I?"

He shook his head. "Let's say top 5, kiddo. You're really fucking big." Then he added, "Your brother, too."

That made my nostrils flare. Mike could tell my reaction immediately.

"You got the hots for your big brother?" he asked. That no-nonsense lewdness going straight to my balls.

"I dunno," I answered truthfully. "Fuck!"

Mike reached up and touched whatever parts of my body he could reach in our position. "Would be so hot to be tag teamed by you two," he growled.

Fuck, I wanted this. Wanted to nail this hot beefy daddy. I shoved my cock deeper in, slding into Daddy Mike's depths.

"There ya go, Pre Frosh.... hit that fucking spot."

"Your ass is amazing," I said.

"Hold it stud," Mike hissed, wincing some at my size. "Fuck you're a big boy." I watched that muscle bunch and flex as he twisted his body to pick up some poppers. I held still, buried deep inside him as he took one hit, then another on the other nostril, plus one more for good measure. He set the bottle aside then nodded. "OK, buddy, go for it."

I started fucking him. I realized he didn't have the warm up like the the other day in the frat house and our Saturday morning hook up had been all oral.

We were making up for that now. I put more energy into my thrusts, getting into it, getting into the thrill of dominating this hot fucker.

Mike was still in encouraging mode. "God you're fucking huge.... fuck me man.... That spot is yours, kiddo. All yours. Yours and your brother's."

That made my nostrils flare. No poppers needed.

"That turn you on, Jase?"

I nodded, afraid that if I answered aloud I'd cum. I didn't stop my fuck but I slowed it just a litte, trying for slower deeper pumps.

"You both got amazing dicks," Mike teased, "But you're a hotter dude." He was holding on to my hips now, pulling me in with each pounding thrusts. It must have felt hard on his guts, but I was too into this, and Mike wasn't asking me to stop or ease up.

He watched intently now. His own prick was rock hard but all of his attention and energy was focused on me. Looking up pleadingly as I railed him. "Hot firecracker of a top... just 18 too... fuck," he hissed.

I felt like the studliest guy in the world just then.

"You getting ready to give me that load, kiddo?"

I nodded. "Yah. Fuck." My hips had lost that determined hard pace and now were just going back to fast and furious.

"Get it Pre Frosh. Get it right in Daddy's hole."

That did it. "Shit!" I yelled. I was cumming and the excited smile on Mike's face made me cum even harder. My whole body spasmed and jerked over him as he watched me orgasm. I felt almost embarrassed at how out of control I'd gotten. Then proud.

I finally smiled as my hips stopped and I caught my breath. "Can I get you off, Mike?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Later. I'm hoping there's a later," he winked.

"Yeah, there's a later," I assured him. I told Connor I'd be back around 10, but there was still plenty of time.

We both watched as I slowly pulled out. My dong was no longer erect but it had a lot of hardness still as it cleared Mike's ring and plopped out heavy and wet.

"Hot," he said. "You're a better fuck than your brother too."

I thought I'd be upset at the constant comparison to Connor, but I was actually eating it up. "Yeah? That's cool," I said.

"Ready for some food?" Mike asked as he slid his body out of bed. "You earned it, fella."

I took up Mike's offer for a shower while he ordered some pizza. When I dried off and stepped back out into the master bedroom naked, the man was dressed back in his sweats and Bears T-shirt. And he had a pair of football shorts in his hand.

"These should be your size, fella," he grinned.

I'd worn jeans so something to lounge in was welcome. I had a feeling we'd be fooling around again soon.

I took the offering and slipped them on. "You carry spare shorts for your dates?" I laughed. Not accusing, more amused.

He nodded. "You bet I do, stud. Lots of dudes want a Daddy Mike souvenir. They're yours to take if you want 'em."

I decided not to bother with a T-shirt. Mike was still chubbed in his sweats and his eyes were very approving as he sized up my younger build in the shorts. If the fuck hadn't been enough I was very glad I'd come over.

The Bears game was already on the big screen TV, muted, though as we sat on the couch, Mike picked up the remote and turned up the volume. "Hope you don't mind, Pre Frosh, but this is always part of Date Night on game day." He leaned forward and pulled a tall can of beer toward him, opening the tab and nodding to a matching one in front of me. "You strike me as a beer dude..."

"Yeah," I grinned, glad for the offering. After the hot sex it was the perfect thing. This wasn't the watery shit they served in the SigEp house either.

In a strange way this was a perfect date with another man. I placed my arm around Daddy Mike's beefy shoulder and felt his warm body accept my embrace. I followed football and was a Bears fan, but Mike was a fanatic. Screaming, yelling at half the botched plays and the ref calls. Getting red in the face even. It was adorable.

The pizza came, and we ate silently, watching the game, talking during the commercials. I hadn't realized how hungry I was but I scarfed that shit down. Mike made a good dent, too. He got us another beer. We watched more football. The Bears took the lead.

Maybe it was the proximity to this stud of a daddy. Or maybe it was just my natural recovery time doing its work. But I began boning up.

Mike noted and leaned into me, giving me a smirk. He pulled out his phone.

"Selfie?" he asked.

I got a deer in the headlights look. I thought of my parents finding out. Or my lacrosse buddies. "Fuck, man, I can't," I said.

He smiled. "Don't worry, Jase, buddy... no faces. Promise."

I relented. I sure as hell hoped I could trust this guy. I thought of Connor's own suspicion of Mike's motives. "OK."

He pulled the phone up to a classic selfie distance and snapped a pic. "This might just be for my personal collection," he said. Then he reversed direction and aimed it at our crotches. Mine particularly.

"I just like showing off when I find a hot stud," Mike said.

I'd scrolled through his Insta. The man was being understated now. There were a fuck ton of young dudes posing with Daddy Mike. But I felt proud to join the ranks.

During the commercial he fiddled with his phone and then showed me his latest Twitter post. "Game day Date Night with Pre Frosh," the caption read. And sure enough the pic was of my boned up crotch, my long thick ridge pushing up the material of those Bears football shorts.

"Fuck," I said.

"I can delete it," he offered.

"Fuck no," I replied.

The made him grin. "You shouldn't hide a dick like that for sure. Top five," he reminded me. "Midwestern boys are hard to beat."

I basked in the compliment. My hardon wasn't going away, but I enjoyed the feeling of being hard around this guy without the urgency of getting off just yet. I knew it would come.

We settled back into the game and pretty soon the second quarter was drawing to a close. Even before halftime came though, Mike pressed the screen of his phone, then handed it to me. It was recording video, I could see. "You're the cameraman, kiddo," Mike growled.

"For what?" I asked.

"Guess," he winked. And like that he got off the couch and got down in front of me. I spread my legs to give him room and then after a second of surprise aimed the phone to capture Daddy Mike looking up, lewdly pawing my crotch before pulling the elastic over my hard dong. I was long enough that my cock had been constrained diagonally in the shorts, but now it jerked up to a full standing position off my light treasure trail and abs. I knew I was hung, and Mike had been reminding me of that fact, but damn... watching myself on the phone camera, with Mike's face leaning into lick me, I looked big.

I recorded Daddy Mike slow teasing my prick then taking me into his talented mouth. You could even see the Bears game in the background as I started to get a blowjob. It was hard to hold the phone steady as Mike went further down on me, but I did my best.

It was four minutes of glorious head. Thankfully our fuck earlier had taken the edge off and I could enjoy the silky wet sensations of his mouth and throat working me up and down as well as the thrill of seeing him struggle to deep throat me at one point.

He finally pulled off and let my big cock slip out wet between his lips. "OK, kiddo..." he said. "You can turn it off."

I nodded and Mike gingerly slipped my shorts back on, tucking my hard dong back into its diagonal position and patting my thigh before standing up. "Save the rest till later?" he asked.

"Yeah," I nodded enthusiastically. "That was hot," I said.

"I'm glad fella," he said looking down on me. "Gonna go piss.... need anything?"

I wondered if I should ask for another beer, but I was still working on the second and didn't want to get too drunk. We had more sex ahead and I really wanted to enjoy it to it's fullest. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks."

Halfway through the third quarter, I felt my phone buzz. It was a text from Connor.

"Hey Jase. Date was a fucking bust. Stay out as long as you like. Sorry I was an ass earlier."

I smiled. Me and my brother could butt heads sometimes but we could also be tight as good buds, too.

I looked over at Mike, who was engrossed in a challenged ref call. I thought of what he'd said earlier. It was a crazy idea, but deep down I knew it would be a blast if Connor went for it.

"If you feel like coming over, I'm sure Mike could take care of you," I typed.

"Ha, that'd be weird," Connor wrote. The tough thing about text is you can't always tell what someone is thinking.

"Maybe. But hot," I typed. I realized now how invested I was in this fantasy of having a threesome with Connor. Even if we fucked Mike separately, I wanted to fuck on my big brother's spunk again, like that first afternoon in the house.

"Jesus." Connor typed. Then, "You sure, bro?"

"Yeah, C" I wrote. "Very sure." I was boning as I typed. Maybe I was thinking with my dick, but I wanted to see this happen now.

I didn't hear back from Connor, though. Not until the 4th quarter.

"What's the address?" he typed.

I figured I should ask Mike to double check. "Hey," I said. "We you serious about my brother?"

The man was very much in that "don't bother me, I'm watching the game" mode, but I guess this question was an exception.

"Um yeah. Why do you ask, stud?"

I grinned, since I was the one with the big surprise to spring. "He's wanting to come over. Not sure what he's comfortable doing, though."

Mike smiled. Up close I could see that salt-and-pepper in his stubble. "Just as long as he doesn't mind sloppy seconds, kiddo... you let me pretty loaded up earlier."

And like that he was kissing me softly, lots of tongue, till he pulled it back and let me take charge of the kiss.

I pulled back and texted my brother the address. I was boned as fuck now. I hope I hadn't made a mistake, but Connor and I could figure it out later if it got too weird.

My brother must have been hard up and his Uber made good time, because it wasn't long before Mike's buzzer rang. I watched the beefy daddy get up and go over to answer, then let my brother up.

I stayed on the couch, trying to keep my attention to the final moments of the game, but I heard the door open and Connor's voice from the other room. "Hey," he said, half laughing, half nervous.

"Come in, bud," came Mike's deep voice. There was some whispering, then two of them walked in, Mike's paws on Connor's shoulders, half massaging the delts, half guiding him inside.

"Your brother here prefers it one-on-one time... OK with you studly?" he winked.

I nodded, daring to catch Connor's gaze. He now knew I was up for a threesome and I felt exposed in my perverse desire. His eyes though were reassuring, telling me he wasn't mad. Just uncomfortable with going all the way.

"Yeah, cool," I said, passing it off. "Have fun Connor."

"Yeah," my brother laughed. A little embarrassed. Maybe he felt weird to be angling in on his little bro's fuck date. Or maybe he didn't like me seeing that he wasn't as 100 percent straight as he maybe considered himself.

But Mike led him to the bedroom. Thank god he kept the door open. Maybe that was a gift to me, but Daddy Mike was a total exhibitionist, it didn't surprise me.

I heard more whispers, then Connor's excited sex grunts. They were taking their time but pretty soon I heard fucking. Connor's higher pitched groans and Mike's booming voice. "Fuck me, guy! Punch my guts! Yeah... right fucking there buddy.... Make Daddy proud!"

Jesus. Maybe Mike did the Dad talk with all the guys he hooked up with, but the idea that Connor had incestuous fantasies about our Dad was pretty wild.

I slipped down my shorts. I didn't out right jerk off, but I slowly massaged my huge bone, feeling the sap of my precum wet down my length.

I was so distracted I didn't hear them stop. But Mike spoke to me, his naked furry body looking magnificent, his dick standing straight up and dripping. "Hey kiddo... your big bro says it's Ok if you wanna join." Not pressuring me but offering.

I let go of my cock instantly. I could have nutted the idea was so intense. "Yeah," I answered and got up off the couch. I kicked off those Bears shorts and sauntered in, fully hard to join them.

There was a camera set up on a tripod, and another angled from the side. Fuck. I found the idea didn't bother me. Not if Connor was OK with it.

There was my big brother. Not as big as me body wise, but older and looking more collegiate. Handsome, cute, beautiful, I don't even know the right word. He forced a smile but seemed genuinely turned on by seeing me walk in. "Damn, Jase," he said. "You're a fucking porn star..."

I was used to the Daddy Mike treatment, but the ego boost from my big brother was something else. "Literally..." I laughed, nodding to the cameras.

Mike got on the bed to join my brother. "No faces, like I said fellas. And I'll let you approve before I post. But damn, a brother scene is special."

I then watched as Daddy Mike leaned over and started sucking my brother's lubed, throbbing cock.

"Oh FUCK!" Connor hissed, keeping his eyes on me. Then, "Hope you don't think less of me, bro."

I got up on the bed, lying next to Connor. Not trying to spook him or anything, but I wanted to be close to him and get a good view of him getting head. "What do you think I've been doing all weekend."

His eyes were going back from watching Mike suck him and back up to look at me. "Guess you really took to it, huh?"

I nodded. "Thanks for letting me, Connor," I said. My head inched forward, and his inched toward me too.

We were kissing. Brother on brother kiss. I didn't even know if Connor kissed guys. Maybe he didn't. But he was kissing me now. Tongue and all. It was different than Mike's kissing. Less sexual and maybe less romantic. But very skilled.

My prick jerked wildly. I didn't even know what the attraction to Connor was about, but I was very into the taboo of it.

Daddy Mike was sucking me now, pinching the base of my prick to keep me from cumming. Connor pulled back from our kiss to watch.

"You have a huge dick, Jason," he said. "Bigger than mine."

"Not by a lot," I said. "I love your cock, Connor."

He grinned. And like that we were kissing again. And Daddy Mike went back to suck Connor. Then me.

Then Mike pulled off. "Goddamn," he hissed. "Two fucking brothers," he growled.

I thought he'd go back to sucking Connor but instead he scrambled up and straddled my brother's waist, reaching back to guide the big dong into place.

"Fuck yeah!" Mike cried as Connor breached that slut hole again. By now both of us had opened up Mike's hole for business and the man didn't take long in being able to bounce up and down on a solid seven inches of Connor's meat. Then further... down to the pubes.

He looked over at me with an impish look on his face. "Wanna make Date Night complete, kiddo?" he asked.

I didn't know what he meant, and it showed on my face.

I could tell Daddy Mike was enjoying the hell out of this. Being wantonly sexual with two younger men, but also running the show. He cocked his head some. "Get back behind me and join your big brother up there."

I thought I'd cum, hands free. As it was my dick spurted out a healthy wad of milky precum. Maybe I wouldn't last in my first DP but I'd try this while the invitation stood.

I scrambled into place, feeling up Mike's strong meaty back and seeing the slight love handles from his beefiness as he wiggled his ass some on Connor's lap and then sat perfectly still. Waiting for me.

The entry was tough, but my cock was steel hard and very wet. I worked open the ring and after a half minute I was slipping inside him. Next to Connor.

"Jesus Christ!" my brother gasped. He could feel it, my prick sliding alongside his. It was tight, very tight wedged up inside Mike's guts, and it got tighter the more I pushed in.

"God fucking damn," Mike hissed. A lot of discomfort along with a clear sexual excitement. I worried now, because I couldn't see Mike's face to know when it was too much for him.

"Connor..." I said. "Tell me if I need to slow down," I said.

"Yeah," I heard my brother reply. My hands were on Mike's hips now, and I felt my brothers fingers touch over them. It was wild and hot. "Fuck him, Jase."

I did. Slow, deep. It was becoming my signature move, only Mike was feeling with two O'Brien dongs inside him at once. Double dicked, brother fucked.

The lewdness inspired me to give the best fuck I could. Fucking not only for Mike but for Connor too. I wanted my big bro know I was grown up for real.

Remarkably, even though I was doing the thrusting, Connor was the one who came first. "Oh Christ," he hissed loudly and I felt the slickness of my brother's seed flood around my cock. It was hot and magnificent. In a fucked up way I loved my brother, and that realization had me shooting hard. All around Connor's prick and really fill up Mike's bowels.

The big man was now tensing in my grip and I gathered he was having his deep orgasm now. Delayed from earlier, Mike was now nutting super heavy. His body hot as I leaned into him and whispered in to his ear. "Go for it, Dad... come with your boys inside you..." He practically cooed when I said that.

There was no small amount of awkwardness when we unpaired, but I didn't give a fuck. I felt like a stud and a half and I wasn't in the mood to feel apologetic or hesitant for enjoying that threesome.

Mike went to wash off. It was crazy to see the confident sure bottom walk dazed and still out of it to the master bathroom.

Connor seemed quiet, almost sulky, but I gave him a playful punch to the arm. "Come on, bro... it's cool. We're just having fun, OK?"

That seemed to calm him some and he flashed me a little smile. "OK, Jason.... but not a fucking word to anyone about this, OK?"

"Chill, dude," I said. "Of course I'm not gonna tell anyone."

We got dressed and pretty soon Mike was out, slipping on those sweat pants again.

"Damn fellas... guess you should be careful what you ask for huh? You guys really worked over my ass, all right."

Connor smirked. I probably did too.

"We should go," my brother said. Looking over at me in his bossy big-bro mode. I think he thought I'd try to sleep over at Mike's.

"Well thanks for a fuck I'll remember for a long time," Mike said. Laid back as hell. I decided whoever I ended up with would need to be open about sex. Maybe not as open as Daddy Mike, but I preferred this to all the doubts I'd had over the last few years. It was a breath of fresh air.

Mike stepped up and gave Connor a soft kiss. My brother accepted it, to my surprise. Then Mike kissed me. "Enjoy the rest of your visit, Pre Frosh," he whispered. "And hit me up. Anytime."

"Yeah," I muttered, my heart pounding a little. I was a little embarrassed now for Connor to see me crush out on a man who was clearly just in it for a lay. "Thanks, Mike."

Connor and I were quiet on the Uber ride back to campus and the fraternity house. But when we settled into his room, he pulled out a bong and we got high. And he relaxed some.

"So... you into older guys, Connor?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe not exclusively, but I'd love to date one... see what it's like.... guess I have to wait for college though.... fuck!" The reality of my hometown was coming back to me. Parents. School. My team.

Connor seemed concerned. "I got your back Jason. You know that, right?"

"Thanks, Connor," I said.

It was half the pot speaking, but my brother looked handsome as fuck just then. I hoped he found a good girlfriend, he was good looking enough to be choosy.

Connor smirked. "Thanks for inviting me tonight... guess I really needed a good lay."

"Glad you were cool with it," I said. "Hope I didn't fuck things up."

He shook his head. "You've just surprised me this weekend, that's all." He took another toke, held it in and blew it out, all while keeping his eyes on me. "My fucking lacrosse jock brother," he laughed.

I laughed too.

#drakestories

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