#all my school life and even in my college life I've faced so much shit from peers and teachers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lanadelnegan · 8 months

Text

Tattoo

Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader (Negan is y/n's art teacher & also owns a tattoo shop).

Warnings: THIS IS THE FILTHIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR and it's just going to get filthier from here on. smut, forbidden love, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 38), angst, oral (female receiving), lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn.(there's an actual plot this time), vaginal sex, public sex, breeding, slight daddy kink

Summary: After graduating and leaving behind the man she fell for but couldn't have, y/n decides to get a tattoo that reminds her of him. And he gives it to her.

A/n: ugh, this had me in my feels. A "hard to get" teacher Negan. basically you're negan's former student and he gives you a tattoo and things.. well - just read it.

"Well damn. I don't mean to be sentimental, but I have seriously enjoyed teaching you little shits. I hope you can take what you've learned and apply it to something. Be creative. Oh, and.. don't think about hitting me up on Instagram after this because I don't do social media. That shit is toxic. Remember that, kids."

The bell cuts Negan off before he can finish his inspirational speech. He's always had such a way with words.. should have been an English teacher instead.

Most of the students rush out like the room is on fire, with the exception of a few annoying girls that think he'll jump their bones now that school is out.

"So, Mr. Smith, since you don't have social media, can I get your number at least?" I cringe as she twirls her hair around her finger and her friends giggle obnoxiously behind her.

"Girls. Behave for once. A tip for college? Don't flirt with your professors." He warns while motioning them out the door.

I suddenly realize that my ass has been glued to my seat this entire time and I'm the only one still here. I quickly get up and throw my backpack over one shoulder. He stares at me from the doorway but I just look down as I walk towards him.

"Bye Mr. Smith."

"Nice try. Sit down." He shuts his door and walks back into the room pointing towards my chair for me to sit.

"Mr. Smith, y/n?" He mocks. "Seriously?"

I never call him that. He's always been Negan to me.

I've known him for 4 years now. He's the only art teacher at Alexandria High, and even though I have no interest in art, I've taken his class every year because I do have an interest.. in him.

What he doesn't know is that I've been making mental notes everyday for the past four years about all his interests, personal life, hobbies, you name it.

He loves the color red - because it's the only color expo marker he writes in.

His favorite lunch is two cigarettes and coke zero. I hate that he smokes.

He stopped coaching baseball last year because he said he didn't have time anymore. But I think it's actually because he's never cared for it to begin with.

He had a wife, but she passed away. Some kind of cancer. She's still his computer wallpaper, which tells me he still hasn't moved on even though it was six years ago. My heart hurts for him.

He wasn't lying - he doesn't have social media....I would have found it.

He sits at another student's desk right next to mine with his body facing me.

"You gonna tell me why the hell you look like your best fucking friend just died?"

I stare at the floor next to his shoes and try to think about anything other than fact that I'm never going to see him again.

"Look at me."

I slowly lift my eyes to his and can't stop the tear that escapes the second I see his face.

"Ah, shit." His expression turns serious when he notices my tears. "Look, kid. I -"

"Stop calling me kid." I snap.

He chuckles. "Hate to break it to ya y/n, but you are very much a kid in my eyes, which is why this thing -" he motions his hand towards me. "this.. crush you have on me - has to end today."

My eyes widen as I stare at him speechless. He seriously did not just assume I have a crush on him.

"Did you jus - You seriously think just because a few stupid girls want to get in your pants, it means everyone does?" I scoff. "Unbelievable. You're my teacher. I don't have a crush on you."

He laughs as if we both know I'm lying - which I am.

"Alright, I'm sorry I called you a kid. Now, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"It's just I - I'm gonna miss you." I instantly regret saying it.

He nods and looks at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm sorry. I - I'm just gonna go." I get up to leave, leaving my heart with him. My stomach twists in a knot when I realize he isn't getting up to stop me.

Why would he?

Once I'm in the hall, I turn to take one last look at him. He's bent over with his hands through his hair as if his best friend just died.

Negan's POV: That fucking girl. In my twelve years of teaching, I've never cared about a student like I do her. I care about all of my students, but goddamn it, she's had me wrapped around her finger for longer than I'm comfortable to admit - And I never will. She fucking sucks at hiding her feelings. I knew from the first day she walked into my class that she wanted to jump on my dick. Hell, every girl does. But other girls bat their fake eyelashes at me and tell me how they feel. Y/n.. she's.. obsessed with me. She thinks I didn't notice her doodling my name in her notebook with little hearts. Or that I don't hear her whispering to her friends about the dreams she has about me. Or how she stares at me during lectures like she's on a different planet. And if that's not enough, the girl hates art. Yet she's chosen it as her elective every single year. She has straight A's in every class, but doesn't even try in mine. And yet.. my dumb ass still passed her with an A. Maybe because I'm obsessed with her too.

Back to Y/n's POV:

I cried on the way home that day.

While everyone else celebrated school ending with a party, I stayed in my room and cried while looking at his photo in the yearbook.

While everyone walked across the stage at graduation, my diploma came in the mail and I stayed home holding Negan's lucky baseball bat that he gave me last year.

My last day of junior year, I stayed after school to help Negan clean out his classroom so he could move into a bigger art room. That was the year he quit coaching. I replay the memory in my head more often than I should..

"Why do you have this bat just sitting in the corner?" "It brings me good luck. I hit a home run every game my senior year with that bat." "Your senior year? This bat is that old?!" "Watch it, kid." He rolls his eyes and throws some folders in a bin. "Hmm." I study the bat. "I could use some luck." "Keep it." I look at him confused. "But... it's your-" "I want you to have it." He cuts me off. "Are - Are you sure?" He sighs frustrated. "Do you not want it?" "Well, I mean, I do but -" "Then stop being stubborn and take it."

Ever since that day, his bat has been leaned up against the wall by my bed as a constant reminder of the man I want but can never have.

After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, my best friend tried convincing me to do something for myself since my birthday was coming up.

"Y/n, you should.. get your nails done, go buy some new clothes, do.. something. But you need to get out of that room. It's... depressing."

"I think I want a tattoo."

"Oh, okay, yeah. That's a good idea. What are you wanting to get?" She asks from the other end of the phone.

"I dunno." My eyes drift towards the bat. "Something meaningful."

The next day...

Lucille's

The tattoo shop sign reads. I swing the door open, excited for the first time in a month. The sound of tattoo guns and rock music fills the lobby.

"Hey, welcome to Lucille's. Do you have an idea of what you'd like or do you want to see some of our work?" The woman on the other side of the counter pulls out a binder.

"Oh, no, I think I know what I want already." I smile and pull up the picture on my phone before showing her.

"Okay, we can do that. Shouldn't take too long either. An hour tops. I can actually take you now in room 3." The so-called "rooms" aren't actually rooms, but rather closed off sections with tall walls on each side. From where I'm standing, I can't see the people in the tattoo chair, but I can see the top of the tattoo artists' heads if I stand on my tippy-toes.

She leads me to room 3 and I sit in the chair while she gets out the instruments.

"This your first tattoo?"

"Yeah, kinda nervous."

She smiles. "I'd tell you not to worry, but, sorry babe. It's gonna hurt."

I appreciate her honesty and just smile back at her.

"So, where do we want it?" she holds the printed off picture off of the tattoo I want.

I lean back in the chair, putting my legs up, so I'm laying down. I lift my shirt up right above my belly button and slightly pull my shorts down, revealing my pubic bone. "Right here." I point to the left side of where my panty line would be but lower.

After I confirm the placement, she presses the needle to my skin and I bite my bottom lip at the sudden pain that radiates throughout my hip.

"Breathe, babe. You got this."

After a couple seconds, she turns in her chair to load more ink into the gun.

"Y/n?" I hear from the entrance behind me.

I know that voice without turning to look. My eyes widen and the girl tattooing me looks at him.

"Hey boss, you two know each other?" She looks between the two of us.

I look back at him and see him nod at her. "I'll finish her up, Ruby. Thanks." He takes the tattoo gun from her and sits in her chair when she gets up to leave. The scent of leather and cigarettes fills the small room and I realize how much I missed it.

He pauses when he looks down at my skin and I can't tell if he's staring because of my tattoo of choice or because I'm almost completely exposed. If I didn't just shave, half of my pubic hair would be on display to him.

The way he's looking at my skin wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I have to mentally tell myself not to clench my legs together. He looks up at me through heavy eyelids and for the first time in four years, I'm unable to read him. I can't tell if he's disappointed, mad... or turned on...?

He looks back at the tattoo and shakes his head, sighing.

Okay, it's definitely a look of disappointment.

"You realize I have to finish this now that she's already started it, right?" He studies the lines already permanently marked in my skin. The faint purple lines of where the sticker was placed give away the complete outline of what the tattoo will be. "There's still time to change it though."

"What? What do you mean.. change it? I want this one."

"No." Is all he says and my eyes widen in shock at him.

"You can't tell me what to do Negan. I'm an adult, and I'm getting it."

"Why?" He snaps, frustration dripping from his tone.

He looks into my eyes for the first time since he's been in the room and the butterflies in my stomach have now gone wild.

"Because I... I want a piece of you with me always."

He closes his eyes and drops his head. My eyes start to water but I hold them back the best I can.

"Y/n." He shakes his head but to my surprise, he hesitantly places his left hand on my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the spot I've imagined him touching a million times. The feel of his rough fingers on my bare skin ignites a flame in me I didn't know existed and all I do is stare at his hand.

"Relax." He rolls his eyes and starts the gun. He leans down closer and begins tattooing me.

I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape my lips. With Ruby.. it hurt. But with Negan, it.. almost feels good.

He glances up at me as if he can hear my thoughts and then goes back to gliding a straight line of ink across my skin.

The next few moments are spent in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the tattoo gun and music playing in the distance.

"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna need these off so I can get to you better." He gestures at my shorts.

My eyes widen but I nod and slide them off, barely breathing now that I'm laying in front of Negan in just my underwear. The way his jaw ticks when he sees that I'm wearing red lace panties doesn't go unnoticed. His favorite color.

He places his hand back on my leg, this time with his fingers completely against my inner thigh. I slightly part my legs without thinking and he pauses to glance at me before continuing with the tattoo.

If he moved his finger half an inch upwards, he would be touching me.

"I never knew you worked at a tattoo shop." I break the silence, hoping to get my mind off his hand.

He chuckles. "I own it, darlin'. And there's a lot you don't know about me."

Another long pause happens before he speaks first this time.

"Why did you take art, y/n?"

"Uh.. I dunno, because I liked it."

He huffs out a laugh. "You liked it... or me?"

I shrug. "Both."

His face turns serious again and he stops the tattoo gun. "All done."

He backs away and motions for me to stand up and look in the mirror in the corner. I stand in front of it, but don't even notice my tattoo because my eyes catch Negan in the mirror staring at my ass. These panties don't leave much to the imagination and my cheeks redden at how much I'm exposed to him.

He suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual and filled with lust.

"Come here." He demands and I obey, walking towards him.

Once I'm standing in front of him, he lifts his hands to grab my hips. My belly button is eye level to him and I look down, watching him intensely. His thumbs dig into my hips and he looks at the tattoo.

"Do you like it?" I ask him.

He ignores me and it makes my heart break a little more. "Lay back down, y/n." He gets up to pull the curtain over the entrance of the room.

I do as he says and he comes back, placing a clear tape bandage over the fresh tattoo.

He looks as if he's deep in thought before suddenly sliding his hands underneath my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He pushes my leg aside and rests my other foot in his lap until my legs are completely spread apart in front of him.

"You want me to touch you, y/n? Is that what you want?"

"Yes.."

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"Your mouth."

He chuckles darkly and kisses the inside of my thigh before sliding his fingers under my panties and ripping them apart.

He shoves them in the back of his jean pocket and wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my stomach down with his hands and leaning his head down closer.

"Look at this pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me you're glistening."

His eyes look up at me right before he licks me and my head falls back with pleasure.

He stops suddenly. "Eyes on me, darlin'. How many times have you imagined me between your legs? You're going to watch me eat this pussy, y/n."

I nod, looking at him and he continues. The sound of other people talking in the distance makes my senses even more heightened.

He licks me again, pressing his tongue into me harder this time. He moans as he stops at my clit and gently sucks it into his mouth. I moan and watch him as he looks like he's eating the best meal he's ever had.

"You taste even better than I imagined, baby."

"You.. imagined it?"

"Baby. You aren't the only one who daydreams in class." He says before dipping his tongue deep inside me.

He switches back and forth between licking me and sucking me until my moans get louder and faster.

"Negan, I'm gonna.."

"I know baby, give it to me." He rubs me with his tongue faster until I'm coming apart. His hand quickly covers my mouth and I cry out into his hand.

"Fuck, doll." He groans and adjusts himself through his jeans. "This pussy is about to make me cum in my pants like I'm a fucking teenager again."

"Negan.." I say out of breath. "I wanna touch you. Please."

He stands and picks up my shorts, but not before I see the huge bulge in his pants. He helps me put my shorts on and I look at him confused when he doesn't say anything.

"Nega-"

"No, y/n."

My eyes water with tears as I stand to finish pulling my shorts up. "I - I don't understand."

"This can't happen, baby. I shouldn't have touched you."

I nod. "So that's it, Negan? You get what you want and that's it.. you're just.. done with me?"

"Are you fucking serious? You think I got what I wanted? I'm standing here with a hard-on that's gonna give me a giant case of blue balls. Any other man would throw you on this table and take you right here."

"Then why don't you?!"

"Because I fucking.. I care about you. You happy now? I fucking CARE ABOUT YOU, y/n. And I'm not going to break your heart."

I wipe a tear that runs down my cheek. "You already did." I grab my purse and rush out of the room, stopping in front of Ruby on the way out and pulling out some cash.

"I'm sorry hun." She says empathetically as if she heard everything that just happened.

I cry harder and lay the cash down before leaving and walking to my car. Before I can open my car door, Negan is grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.

"Goddamn it, listen to me!"

I don't fight him, I just stare at him, noting the hurt in his eyes. My heart hurts and I suddenly feel guilty for making him feel any ounce of pain.

"Y/n.. look.."

"No." I cut him off. "Negan, I'm sorry. This is my fault.. I put you in this situation because I was selfish.. and delusional. I'm so sorry. I'll leave, and you won't have to hear from me or see me again."

He scoffs. "You think that's what I want? I guess you don't know me the way I thought you did."

Before I can say anything else, he crashes his lips to mine and kisses me so hard and but so softly at the same time. His fingers slip through my hair and his hand rests on the back of my neck as he deepens our kiss.

"You're gonna be the death of me, kid."

I bite his lip hard when he calls me kid and our kiss goes from passionate to animalistic. He presses himself flat against me with my back against my car and I feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. His lips travel to my neck and he bites me hard, right before kissing and sucking the sensitive spot.

That's definitely going to leave a mark.

"You have no clue what you do to me, baby." He says in between kisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than usual. "Do you have any idea how many times I've left work and had to rub one out at the thought of you? Hell, sometimes even at work."

I look around the parking lot. It's nighttime but we're still clearly visible in the lights.

"Look at me, y/n. Forget where we are and just focus on me baby." His hand slips into my shorts and it takes him no time to find my soaked entrance since my panties are currently in his back pocket.

"Negan.." I breathe.

He smiles against my lips. "Baby.. You sure this is what you want? Because once I've had you, you're mine."

I nod and he puts his mouth next to my ear.

"Take your shorts off. Now." He pulls his hand from my shorts and sucks my juices off his fingers.

"But, Negan, we're-"

"I said, now y/n. You want me so bad, you're gonna get me wherever and however I say. Now, take your fucking shorts off before I rip them too."

I hesitantly slide my shorts off while looking around again. There aren't any other cars in the parking lot other than a couple of his employees. All the customers left. There's a main road up ahead but we're far enough away where they wouldn't see us unless they we're staring really hard.

"Good girl. Now take my cock out, baby."

He leans his hands against my car on either side of me, trapping me in. I waste no time reaching for the button on his jeans and unzipping him before pulling out his hard, huge cock. It's bigger than I imagined.. a lot bigger. I don't know how that thing is going to even fit in me. He's so hard that the veins in his cock look like they are about to erupt and his tip is already dripping with precum.

I can't help but run my thumb over the tip to collect some and bring it to my mouth to taste him. His eyes darken with lust at the sight of me sucking his precum off my finger.

"Taste good, doll?"

I nod and he chuckles. "There's a lot more where that came from."

He grips the back of my thigh with his hand and pulls my right leg around his waist.

The feeling of his dick rubbing against my wet pussy is enough to make my knees weak. Literally. I almost collapse at the sensation of him rubbing the head against my opening, teasing me. He presses his body closer to me in attempt to hold me up.

"Fuck, look at this dripping pussy." He looks down between us, admiring the view of his cock teasing my wet slit. "It's about to be dripping with my cum in a few minutes.. You ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, please. I need you."

He enters me completely in one swift motion, not giving me anytime to adjust. My walls are stretched further than they've ever been and it feels like the tip of him is buried up to my stomach.

He doesn't move for a moment, but instead looks into my eyes with his cock all the way inside of me. "There you go, baby. Finally getting what you wanted after all these years and taking my dick like a champ."

"Negan.." I moan. "Please.. just fuck me."

He pulls out of me almost completely before slowly pushing himself back in, agonizingly slow. Our bodies are flush against each other and he kisses me again.

"Fuck, baby." He growls. "You. Feel. So. Fucking GOOD." He says between thrusts as my mouth falls open.

I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up and lean against him with my lips pressed against his neck. I take the opportunity to mark him back, grabbing his skin between my teeth and sucking hard. He moans so loud that I glance around to make sure no one heard him, but we're still alone.

His thrusts get harder and faster and the sounds coming from his sexy mouth are enough alone to make me cum.

"Look at me, y/n. I want to see your face when you cum all over my cock."

His hand that was on the car behind me slides between us, instantly finding my clit. He begins rubbing circles on it with his middle finger while thrusting his hips into me faster.

I look into his eyes while my arms are still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, keeping me in place. My fingers run through his dark hair and my breathing goes erratic as I feel myself come undone around him.

"You want me to fill you up, baby? You want daddy's cum?"

I nod quickly as tears run down my cheeks from the most intense orgasm I've ever had.

"FUCK, baby." He groans and slams his mouth against mine. I kiss him back as he rides out his orgasm.

He pulls out of me slowly and softly kisses my lips one more time. I go to put my shorts on and he stops me.

"Not so fast, doll." He gets down on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart in front of him. "Push daddy's cum out baby. Let me see it drip out of you."

I do as he says and the feeling of his warm seed running down my legs is almost enough to send me over the edge again.

"Look. At. THAT." He swipes up some of his cum from my leg onto his finger and stands back up but not before gently kissing my new tattoo.

I think I love this man.

He rubs his finger along my lips until my mouth opens for him. I suck his fingers clean and moan at the taste of him.

"Y/n." He pushes my hair behind my ear and looks at me seriously. "I meant it when I said I care about you."

"You care about all your students."

"Yeah, but I don't go sticking my dick in them." He smirks and takes my hand, leading me back into the shop.

The others must have already left when - when.. oh.. shit.

"Negan, do you think they saw us?!"

"Well darlin', I was fucking your brains out right next to the door, so I think it's probably safe to assume so." He grins and my eyes widen with horror.

"Do you not care?"

"What can they do, doll? Fire me?" He laughs and leads me to the back where his office is.

"What are we doing in here?"

"Getting matching tattoos, of course."

I stare at him, trying to register what he just said. "You're.. going to give yourself a tattoo?"

He chuckles and hands me a tattoo gun before taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch in the corner.

"No, doll, you are."

The Enddd.

Part 2 or nah?

698 notes · View notes

livingemkayde · 8 months

Text

ch vi. bruises

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter six of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. ooof okay where to start, smut unprotected p in v, mentions of bruising from sex? fighting like actual real life fist fighting, rough but sweet sex, grinding, lowkey some cockwarming?? kinda unwanted kissing, tommy being annoying and somewhat overbearing, and unwanted touching, but not sexual. caroline. just, caroline. because she deserves her own warning for this one. no use of y/n.

summary: everything comes to a head at tommy's birthday party.

a/n: this is genuinely the longest part/chapter thing i've ever written so enjoy. tommy is really annoying in this one, im still deciding if he's going to have a redemption arc. sorry this took so long. as always, i love you all so much. MY TUMBLR LITERALLY SHIT ITS PANTS WHEN I TRIED TO EDIT THE TAGLIST SO IM SORRY IF YOU GUYS GOT TAGGED LIKE 400 TIMES.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused. “Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.” But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.

You can almost remember it like it was yesterday.

A few weeks back, the first time you invited Tommy in for a drink after dinner. Sarah was asleep back at the house, Joel was doing — god knows what. The sun was set, the mosquitoes were probably out, and there was a quiet, even maybe too quiet silence when Tommy pulled up to your house.

He had asked what the rest of your plans were for the night.

You had said nothing much, not knowing it was an invitation — he stayed till 2 a.m. that night.

But it was okay. Because he made you laugh and you enjoyed his company. He was interesting. Tommy told you about how he never wanted to go into contracting in the first place. About his broken bones, his all time biggest regrets, how he was smitten with his old high school flame turned mean cheerleader until graduation.

It was the first time you ever realized he was — well — his own person in the sense. Not just Joel’s younger brother. But Tommy. Tommy Miller.

Maybe in another life Tommy might’ve even been good for you. A perfect pair — a match. He wasn’t mean and brooding and he certainly didn’t have 12 years on you.

And he made you smile. And he was genuinely—genuinely interested in your life. Your post grad prospects, college, books, and even how you played soccer just like Sarah when you were younger.

But when he leaned in that night, closer to you than ever before. You froze. Like genuinely frozen, and you couldn’t even dare to look down to his slowly approaching lips, let alone how his arms caged you in.

“First kiss?” you remember him asking.

You had just stuttered out nonsense, not wanting to breathe too hard and run the risk of pushing your lips flush with his.

“I — um —” you nervously laughed. You couldn’t even think—not in the way you should—not when the first person that comes to mind when Tommy says, kiss is his brother.

He had leaned in closer then—more tentative. Like you were a scared deer in headlights or a frightened kitten and he was inching forward, wanting to move closer.

But you didn’t really do — anything.

And he had pulled back a bit, gave you a teasing look and a ruffle on the head and continued with the conversation.

In all honesty you were scared that he might've been inching forward to kiss you. The small fear settling through a slightly erratic heartbeat and nervous laughs.

You were scared then, but can’t really remember the last time you’ve felt this kind of fear.

Hurt, discomfort, shock, maybe.

And although it was being quickly replaced with anger, you don’t remember this feeling — this kind of fear. Not even the kind you get from watching a scary movie — where you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins and then dissipating when the screen goes dark, and the lights turn back on and all you have to worry about is if the scary nun from the big screen will appear in your dreams.

You can remember all the last times you’ve gotten mad, sure. Mainly at the Miller brothers.

But never fear — well, not until right now.

Because whoever that Tommy was is definitely not the same guy staring back at you right now, with a bruised fist, an angry look swirled with hurt marked permanently on his face and one emotion that you can definitely place behind his eyes — jealousy.

Some hours earlier.

You spread colorful tablecloth over the mismatched tables in Joel’s backyard. The string lights are being hung up, Joel stands on a ladder towards your right, the sound of a hammer echoing through the small backyard.

You pick your phone out of your back pocket, checking the time. You also find it in you to check Tommy’s texts again, but no other messages have been sent since last night. You look down at your phone — at the messages — and sit against one of the tables.

Yesterday:

You: can we talk in person?

Tommy Miller: I’ll see you tomorrow at the party?

You hadn’t seen the text until this morning, when Joel and you found it in yourselves to get out of bed, have a shower, and start setting up for the party. So when you saw it, you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

You’re a bit nervous at the prospect. You did not want to talk to him at his party—honestly just trying to text him so that the air would be cleared for the party.

But his words echo in your mind.

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.”

You let out a cursed sigh.

Tommy had to know. Right?

If he knew the dreaded ‘no’ was already braced on your lips he had to know. That this thing between you and Tommy would never work out. That you’re way better as friends. That it would ruin everything — the dynamics of it all — that you were smitten with his brother and you guys had just slept together for the second time without Tommy’s knowledge and that—

“Alright?”

Joel stands in front of you, dipping his head to see a scowl marked on your face. You quickly — maybe even too quickly — forget about the messages, hell, forget about Tommy.

Because Joel looks handsome. He’s always handsome, you’ve thought since the moment you met him at the bar. There’s something intoxicating about him, his arms, the curve of his neck. His brooding nature does him justice — a uniqueness about him that makes you want to uncover more, learn more, see more.

You remember last night—very vividly through small ebbs and flows of sleep. The moonlight seeped into your skin as you both rolled around in gray sheets.

It makes your cheeks heat a bit at the thought.

You remember everything. Every little detail. You don’t think you’ll ever forget.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket.

“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just…” you trail off, he nods his head in understanding, coming closer to you.

He braces his hands on either side of your body, caging you in. Your faces study each other’s mere inches apart.

“Tablecloth givin’ you trouble?” Joel teases in a soft whisper, looking down at your lips, then back to your eyes.

“Funny,” you say with a grin and run your tongue over your lips.

“You need help, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” Joel’s small smile plays on his lips for a fleeting second. You miss it as soon as it’s gone.

“Duly noted. But I’m not the one who’s been hanging up string lights for the past hour.”

He pats your ass a bit, teasing you and pushing out a playful sigh.

“Perfection takes time.”

Joel’s beginning to dip his head to kiss you, but you find it in you to bite back.

“And yet the left side’s still lower than the right,” you whisper, pulling your head back slightly. He turns quickly to look at the fence, but gives you a harder slap on your ass when he realizes the lights are, in fact, straight.

Joel chuckles, pushing off from the table, you turn back around to continue fixing the cloths, and look back at him over your shoulder.

He’s looking back at you too.

“You’re killin’ me,” he says, and you smile to yourself when you turn back around.

You look around the backyard and check your phone for the millionth time since the party started. You can hear Sarah running around, screaming a bit while jumping into the pool. But your brows furrow when you find that Tommy still hasn’t texted you.

You spot a tuft of red hair swinging through your vision and spin to find Janet Baker squeezing through the crowd.

“Janet!” you say, approaching her quickly. You’re happy to see her—Tommy didn’t invite many people you’re familiar with.

“Hey, Doll. Thanks for the invite!” she says, pulling you into a quick hug, but when she sees the look on your face, her mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetie, you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I—Tommy didn’t…I don’t really know anyone here,” you reply while sheepishly looking around the small, bustling backyard. It’s the kind of feeling you try your best to avoid. Like everyone is in on some secret joke that you have no clue about. Or everyone knows each other and you can’t even put faces to names because you don’t know any names—like right now.

“‘S fine—I’m happy to see you made it,” you let out a defeated chuckle.

“‘F course, baby. Charlotte really wanted to see Sarah,” she nods towards the girls in the pool, Charlotte’s red hair looking strikingly similar to the woman standing in front of you. Janet seems to be on her second drink of the afternoon, you saw her tipping back a solo cup out of the corner of your eye earlier.

“What are you drinking?” you ask her, nodding at her cup.

“Someone brought a fancy lookin’ wine I popped open,” she says, giving you a sly smile. “Why don’t we get you a drink? You’ll like this,” she says, you don’t have much time to react, she’s already pulling you towards the drink station.

You both settle into a comfortable silence, looking around the backyard while Janet pours your drink.

“So,” she says, giving you a wink.

“So…” you echo, sending a nervous laugh her way.

“Who’s that girl,” she nods towards Caroline while passing you a cup, you take a big sip, Janet fills it back up to the top without a second glance.

“Caroline,” you say looking at her and Joel. They’re talking to some other people, a small group of them congregating by the barbecue.

“Caroline…” Janet tests out on her tongue, willing you to continue.

“Caroline—Joel’s,” you can’t help but chuckle. “date. I guess.”

“That bother you?” she says, finishing the bottle of wine while the two of you walk back towards the edge of the pool so she can watch Charlotte and Sarah.

“Nope,” you say, and it’s not a lie. Sure, it might be a little weird to see another woman clinging to his arm after yesterday. But you know now. And that’s all that matters.

“Joel can—” you laugh again, “—Joel can do what he likes.”

Janet stops walking suddenly. You tear your gaze away from Joel and look at her with a confused furrowed brow.

“Sweetie…” she says with eyes that look way too knowing for your comfort or peace of mind.

“Janet…?” you say, though her gaze just intensifies.

“You mean to tell me it happened since I last saw you?”

Your eyes widen, a shocked look crosses your face and you quickly try to replace it with a bad mask of confusion.

“W-what? I—”

“Don’t lie to me, doll,” she warns, and she looks like she really means it.

“Janet…” you say in a not as effective and halfhearted warning tone back.

“Don’t you dare,” she wags her finger—a final warning.

What has gotten into you and why can’t you find it in yourself to lie to this woman?

“Don’t te—” she gasps, “Janet, I mean it. Do not tell anyone.”

She shuts her half open mouth and makes the my lips are sealed motion across her face. You laugh while stealing a glance at Joel.

“I told you,” she whispers to you in a hush, joining your eyeline towards Joel.

You stay silent for a moment, just taking everything and everyone in—but at the same time just looking at Joel. when you finally break the silence you’re a bit shocked at your question. You’ve never talked about Joel like this with someone who actually knows him. Everything has always been a secret—like you were supposed to be ashamed or something. You never were.

“How did you know?” you ask, hushed. You’re not sure she’ll even hear you.

“Would love to say it was intuition, sweetie—but—it was him. It was written all over his face.”

You stayed with Janet for the better portion of the hour, all through silent peaks at your phone to see if Tommy had texted you. When it was getting to the point where people were getting curious, you’ve just about had your limit.

You approach Joel quickly, you don’t miss Caroline’s stunned face but you really can’t be bothered with—that—right now.

“Joel?” you ask, pulling at his arm a bit, he excuses himself from the group and follows you towards the backyard's edge.

“Where the hell is your brother?” you whisper.

“He’s not here?” he asks, the same hushed tone also pushing through his voice at your question.

“No! I called him, but he’s not responding,” you pipe back while pulling out your phone. Though the lack of notifications from Tommy—just as before—tells you enough.

You both look at each other for a fleeting second. But the same worried look is probably etched on both your faces — fuck.

“This fuckin’ guy,” Joel mutters under his breath while pulling out his own phone and then putting it up to his ear.

You pace around the small area you and Joel are in, observing the unfamiliar faces.

“Nothin’,” Joel grovels, taking a peak over the fence towards the street to see if Tommy's truck has pulled up. “I’ll try ‘im again — just — you should mingle,” he says, still looking down at his phone.

“‘S fine. I don’t really know anyone here anyways,” you say absentmindedly, looking through your phone for Tommy’s contact and putting your phone up to your ear.

You hear yelling and shouting from the entrance to the backyard. You slowly lift your head, reluctant to tear your eyes away from frantic texts.

You spot him, in all his glory. Tommy Miller. Two hours late to his own birthday party—though he looks like he couldn’t care less, hugging old friends and new ones. He spots your eyes in the crowd and you can’t even be bothered to smile, a frown is almost permanently placed on your face—Late to your own birthday party?

He nods his head toward the house, a silent invitation to talk when he’s done greeting the guests. You nod back and turn to Joel, Tommy turns to everyone else.

“He’s here,” you say, pulling Joel out of his own phone, he does a double take towards the entrance and huffs out a groan.

“Goddamn idiot,” Joel says, running his palm over his eyebrow.

“I’m gonna go—” you say, nodding towards the house, towards Tommy.

“Yeah. Alright,” he replies, though he looks a bit concerned and unfocused, looking towards Tommy, then back to you, “You need me, ‘m there.”

“‘M not telling him about us on his birthday and It’s Tommy, Joel.”

Tommy—harmless.

Though Joel’s look sends a sweat to your palms for some reason. You don’t know why he’s worried.

It’s Tommy. It’s fine.

Right?

You hope as much as you make your way through the crowd. You beeline for the house and slip past the sliding doors into the kitchen where cups and bags of chips lay open and equally sprawled.

You can hear the door slide open and shut again behind you as you try and salvage the mess.

“Baby,” Tommy says, rounding the corner and coming close to you, “‘M sorry. The concrete guy was supposed to drop off the shipment tomorrow but he came today and needed a signature—”

“Tommy, it’s okay,” you almost have to will yourself to say. You also have to remember it’s his birthday.

He looks down.

“‘S okay. It’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” you reassure with a small smile.

“Looks great out there,” he says, fiddling with his phone in his hand.

“Thanks.”

You’re suddenly a bit nervous. You hadn’t really thought about everything that had happened when Tommy being late to his own birthday party was blanketing all the drama. But he’s here now, and you have no idea what to say. Maybe it would be better to not say anything at all—not address the fact that he asked you out, or you and Joel. But that guilty gnawing feeling eats you alive the longer you stand in silence.

“Joel helped you?”

“Yeah. I went shopping yesterday and dropped off the stuff here then we set it up this morning,” you say, nodding towards the backyard and then your car parked out front.

“You went shopping on your own?” he almost sounds offended.

“I wanted to go on my own.”

Tommy doesn't look convinced.

“Really, T. ‘S fine,” you brush off, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing your arms. He stares at you from the other side of the kitchen.

“Caroline here?” he asks, a hesitant look on his face as he switches from looking at the ground to your face—almost like he’s looking for a reaction.

“She’s out there somewhere,” you nod, keeping a neutral face masked with a small smile. “You should mingle. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

But he doesn’t move, he just keeps fiddling with the case on his phone again, looking down to the floor—his feet.

“I— you said you wanted to talk in person.”

Shit.

You both look at each other, waiting. A game of cat and mouse.

“It can wait, T. Enjoy your party,” you say, gesturing to the crowd outside.

“Is it about—is it about what happened Friday?”

“Tommy,” you say, almost warningly. This situation is shitty enough as is. You really don’t want to spoil everything—even if there’s nothing left to spoil.

He doesn’t say anything. His thumb fiddling with his phone is the only sound coming from inside the kitchen. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Almost unbearable. You crack way quicker than you’d hope to last.

If he wants it like this, at his own birthday party, then so be it.

“Fine. I just—I wanted to…” you scramble for words but they jumble in your mind.

“I’m—” you fall short again. “About what you said. What you asked me. I don’t think that it’s…something I want. I’m—sorry.”

“You don’t think it’s something you want? Or you know that—”

“Tommy,” you say, giving him an awkward stifled laugh. Like he’s being childish with his response. Because he is. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”

He turns away from you suddenly, towards the window above the sink and just stares at it for a long time. You can see his chest puffing. When he finally turns back around, it’s different. It’s the Tommy you know.

“‘S okay,” He says.

Maybe he’ll get over it quickly—you hope.

“Are you okay? I’m—I mean I hope that this doesn’t change anything since I’m still gonna be around—” you lift your arm up to run a ragged hand across your forehead and through your hair, you don’t even notice that your shirt riding up, “— I just don’t want it to like—”

“What is that?”

Your eyes snap to Tommy’s, confused. You think he might be looking out the window again but his eyes trail to you, but lower. Like he’s looking at your hips—because he is. You’re still confused for a second, before examining your shirt, looking for stains or anything out of the ordinary. But you don’t find anything, your top spotless.

“What? I don’t—”

“No—” he takes a couple quick steps forward, into your space, you try to find his eyes—yours blown out with confusion and shock but his are trained and laser focused to your waistline.

“What’s—” he tries to pull up your shirt, you shove him back out of reflex. “You’re hurt, what happened t’you?”

He almost pins down your hands to see your skin under your shirt, dipping his head to look at your waist and hips and you suddenly know. You know there are hand shaped bruises littered across the skin of your waist, turning it deep purple. Handprints that match Joel’s exactly—almost like they’re burned into you. You saw it this morning. It’s why you didn’t bother to put on a swimsuit and decided to keep a top on instead.

What’s even worse is you know Tommy saw it too.

“Tommy!” you’re yelling now, fighting his grip.

You slip up, unable to get a good hold on his wrist like he now has on yours and he pushes the shirt up to reveal the bruises.

“What the hell is that?”

“Fucking—get off!” he backs away with your second shove, a different kind of look on his face. “Jesus,” you huff out, yanking your shirt back down.

You both stand there. A pregnant silence between you. You can almost hear the gears turning, he stares blankly. Putting it all together. Like maybe you’re not hurt, but you wanted it—wanted it from another man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he might keep wishing someone hurt you so he didn’t have to feel so betrayed. So when he asks, it’s like he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true—the quiet possibility of someone else in the picture.

“Who,” he says slowly, pointing down to your waist, “did that?”

“Tommy—” you say, but footsteps cut you off, you both turn your head to the entrance of the kitchen as Joel rounds the corner. He looks out of breath and his eyes flicker from Tommy and his finger pointing down at your waist then back to you.

“We alright in here?” Joel stands, hesitant, his fingers play with the bottom hem of his shirt in an anxious way. Like he doesn't know what he’s just walked in on—you’re not entirely sure you know the answer to that either. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy so you stay silent, waiting for the man in front of you to respond.

“Yup,” Tommy replies, too angry to be believable.

Joel looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. Not out loud.

No. You try to say with your eyes. We are definitely not alright in here.

“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”

But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen.

He stands beside you, putting a flat sprawled palm on Tommy’s chest and silently tries to push him backward. But Tommy breaks first, pushing Joel’s hand off him, staggering back while looking at you and Joel.

And maybe he gets it then, you think. Because Tommy lets out a deep chuckle—like you’ve got clown makeup on. Like he’s never seen anything more funny. He’s a lot of things but he is not fucking stupid. So he looks past Joel to your eyes. To your face, almost covered—ridden—in guilt and he can see everything.

“Really?” Tommy says, not sparing Joel a glance.

“You put your fuckin’ hands on her?” Tommy says, almost at a whisper which makes it all the more intimidating. You can see Joel’s back puff, his anger rising. But you also know Joel would never hurt his brother. Not on purpose.

But you’re scared. You’re really fucking scared in this moment because Tommy is entirely too worked up and you know whatever excuse Joel is going to say won’t help.

“Easy,” Joel says, his voice cutting through the tense silence.

You’re sweating. The hot summer of July in Austin getting to you. They stare at each other for a long time. Like at the kitchen table, like when you all first met. But this time, Tommy breaks, and his eyes flicker to yours, he takes a tiny step to the side so he can see you better.

“Is this why? Is this why you’re fuckin’—jesus, fuck. ‘S this why he went to get you a tire?” you stand, you can’t really say anything, your stunned figure doesn’t move.

“He hurt you,” Tommy breathes out, his voice almost breaking if he wasn’t so angry. You shake your head.

You both know that the bruises aren’t from hurt. That they’re far from it.

“He didn’t,” you reply.

“No, no, baby. He’s—you’re—” Tommy almost looks like he can’t believe it, shaking his head, switching between you and Joel. The look you give him shuts him up, and makes him back away, until Joel unclenches his fists and relaxes his shoulder a fraction.

“I didn’t really want to tell you like this, I was—”

“Fucking my brother?” he bites back, interrupting you.

That makes you a bit mad. You’re not in love with his attitude, nor his tone. It’s not like he has any right. It’s not like either of them do.

Joel moves to speak but you do it first.

“Don’t give me that,” you say, almost laughing, though the situation is not funny, not in the slightest. “We’re not dating, Tommy. We never were.”

Caroline strides in at that, looking at the scene unfolding in the kitchen. She stops short of the three of you, her mouth slightly agape. You roll your eyes, fucking perfect. Let’s just bring the party in here instead. You’ll give it to the woman. She has impeccable timing.

“Needed some napkins…” she trails off, holding the empty napkin stand in her right hand up so everyone can see. “I—I can come back.”

“Did you know?” Tommy turns to her, gesturing to you and Joel.

“Tommy,” Joel says from in front of you, a warning. Tommy ignores him.

“Did you know?” he asks again, Caroline stares back shocked. But she does consider it, rolls the idea around in her head before speaking.

“Them two?” Tommy nods. “Her?”

Okay. You really don’t love that tone. You silently chastise yourself for thinking she was nice at the bar when your first instinct was that she was a bitch—because she is. You were waiting for her snarky undertones or spoiled takes to show. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when.

“No, ‘f couse not.” She’s almost laughing, like it could never be possible. It hits you harder than you’ll ever admit. “She’s — you’re…young,” she says, looking at you.

Tommy gestures to you and Joel like he’s saying, well believe it, because it’s true.

Joel moves faster than you can comprehend. He’s got a tight grip on Tommy’s arm. He probably doesn’t even have to say anything, Tommy knows what’s happening. But Joel warns him anyway—again.

“Quit,” he growls. You’d guess this might be the point where Tommy usually backs down. But this situation is far from usual.

“Or what?” Tommy bites back. When Joel doesn’t respond he continues. “You gonna mark me up? Leave me all black and blue?”

Tommy doesn’t stop there, you try to move past Joel but he stops you, turns his head to you slightly, a hardened look in his eye.

“Oh, I forgot you’d probably like that, huh?”

Joel remains frozen for a couple fleeting seconds before whipping around and pushing Tommy into the back counter. You’re rooted to your place, you don’t even care that Caroline is still in the corner, holding the fucking napkin holder in the air.

“What’d you say?” Joel barks in Tommy’s face.

“Look at her fuckin’ stomach, dude!” Tommy throws the words in his face, pushing him back slightly and making a vague gesture in your direction, it causes your feet to move towards the brothers before you can think.

Joel backs off then, sneaking a tiny glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like he really is thinking about the marks he left on your waist. He had seen them this morning, ran his fingers over them too, and saw how the notches matched the curves of his fingers perfectly. But you kissed him, and told him it was okay. That it was more than okay. Maybe even whispered that you liked it between muffled groans. So when a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes it makes your heart break more than it already has.

“She said no,” Joel says, looking back at Tommy. A tense silence follows—like you’re not sure if Joel is going to continue or Tommy is going to bite back.

“Get back to your party,” Joel growls after a while. You bite your lip.

Tommy looks at Joel with unwavering eyes. His glance turns towards the window where he can see the bustling crowd—can almost hear the laughter. Then he looks down to his hand, outstretches it, undoes his gnarly fist, and when it curls back up again, you finally bite.

“Tommy!” you say, moving closer. But it’s too late. Joel’s figure knocks to the side and his hand instinctively grabs his face, his nose, his eye. Maybe the worst part about it all is that Joel doesn’t even look remotely surprised, or that he wants to fight back—he just stays there, a little hunched over when you yelp in shock and Tommy groans, shaking out a now bruised fist.

“Fuck,” you almost yell, your body doesn’t know what to do between bending down to see Joel’s face and looking at Tommy—at his face—because you don’t recognize him.

Joel almost huffs out a laugh, and to shut him up, to get him to bite his tongue, you speak again.

“Okay. We’re done here,” you say, pushing Joel towards the entrance of the house, towards your car.

And Caroline is there, pushing Tommy towards the couches and for the first time, you’re grateful for her.

The ride back to your house is silent after a short and quick bicker about who can drive. You think Joel might want to sit in the driver's seat so you can’t see the quickly forming bruises on the left side of his face but you make a decent argument, enough to settle him in the passengers—looking out the window.

You send Janet a quick text, asking if she can watch Sarah for a few hours. Brother emergency. Janet replies back and says the girls haven’t gotten out of the pool since you left. It makes you smile a bit, despite it all.

When you park in your driveway, you hop out quickly, Joel following closely behind. He waits there, right behind you, when you pull out your house keys, and waits when you unlock the deadbolt and waits when you push through the door.

“Make yourself at home,” you say, nodding towards the couches and dropping your keys in the bowl.

You disappear into the kitchen and brace your arms on the counter, your head hanging between your shoulders. You let out a deep, ragged breath and try to control your heartbeat.

“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking out your wrists, grabbing two advil from the bottle on your counter, a glass of water, and peas from freezer.

Joel’s sitting on the loveseat, looking down at his hands. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He just takes the water and pills from your hands and swallows it silently. You extend the peas to him, he thinks about it for a while and when you shake them again, huffing, saying—just fucking take them. He finally obliges.

You get a good look at his cheek when he turns to set the water down on the table and you have to stop yourself from gasping.

“Joel,” you murmur, reaching for him, bending down, he stops you, grabs your wrist, then grabs your hand. But he’s gentle. Not like Tommy. Joel’s gentle.

“‘S fine,” he says, and winces when the peas touch his face. “‘M fine.”

You settle in between his legs, looking down at him. He’s got one hand on his face, holding the peas, and the other, wrapped around the back of your thigh. He doesn’t even want to look up at you. It breaks your heart.

“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, his hand on your thigh trails upward. He plays with the hem of your shirt and lifts it enough to take a peek at the purple that lies there.

He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, running a gentle, ghost-like touch across the bruises.

“He — saw it. I don’t…” you look down to your stomach. You can see the shape of his fingertips so clearly. It’s no wonder Tommy reacted how he did. “It was an accident.”

He doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. He tosses the peas onto the table and pushes the cotton of your shirt up further, to where he can see all of it—all the black and blue there.

“Are you mad?” you whisper, hesitantly, as he stares at his own hands, his own branding.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t be,” you say, begging, “Please.”

“He did that cause—,” you breathe out, taking his chin in your pointer finger and thumb and getting your first good look at his cheek, “—it’s-’s my fault, I should’ve—”

“C’mon. Don’t do that,” he says, cutting you off, nipping your apology in the bud, “I should be the one who’s sorry, this is — I hurt you.”

You shake your head.

“You know that’s not—you know that I—” you stifle a short chuckle.

“That you what?”

You let out a couple hot breaths, looking down at him, the purple around his eye slowly taking shape.

“That I liked it.”

Joel bends forward then, and you gasp. The dull scratch of his beard is the only thing keeping your eyes open. He trails his hot breath across your stomach, and leaves gentle kisses on your sides, on your bruises.

“Joel,” you mumble, and you hate how your voice sounds so breathy, maybe even desperate. You tangle your hands in his hair, grasping at the nape of his neck he pulls you down, closer, so you’re slotted in his lap, straddling him. Joel pulls back and looks at your face, brushes the fallen hair from your eyes.

“I meant what I said,” you start, he furrows his brow, “Still—mean it.”

From the look in his eyes he knows what you’re talking about. The words you slipped into his ear last night.

‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you.

“But if this is—if Tommy—” you cut yourself off, correcting your words, “If I messed it up—”

“Sweetheart,” he says. Your heart pulls, you almost put your hand on his cheek, but you see the rising skin and settle for his shoulder. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Are you sure?”

He pulls you down further, so you’re flush against him. He studies your eyes and rubs at your waist, your hips. It sends a little fire down between your thighs.

“‘M here—‘M…I’m right here,” he mumbles, and shakes his head. Like he’s telling you no to any silent thoughts of doubt that might be floating around your head.

And then he pulls your head down to kiss you.

It’s needy, and hot and everything you want at this moment. He’s everywhere and you can feel his growing arousal between your legs. You both needed this—you think. After everything, after—fucking—Caroline and Janet Baker and Tommy Miller. You both needed each other so bad that when you grind down onto him he lets out a little desperate groan into your mouth that spurs you on.

Joel slips his hand under your shirt and finds the hardened peak there. He pinches it and rolls it between his fingers, it sends your hips forward and suddenly he’s sitting up, and shucking your shirt off.

He grabs your hips and moves you against him, your most vulnerable spots grinding against each other. Giving you both blown out eyes and puffy lips and panting breath.

“Sh–it,” you gasp when your shorts catch on your clit perfectly.

“Pretty,” he says, grasping at your tits, at anything he can find while you grind against his length. “fuckin’—pretty like this.”

You claw at his belt and before you know it, he’s lifting you up so you’re on your knees and he’s pulling his pants past his hips. You get the memo and take your shorts off, tossing them behind you. When you sink back down onto his lap, you can feel his cock slip between your wet lips down there.

“Fuck, Joel,” you say, gliding along his cock, soaking it. You can feel all of him now—grinding along his hardness—the girth of him fitting perfectly between your swollen lips.

“Angel,” Joel pants out, through sloppy kisses. You look at him. He’s got a desperate look on his face. Like he couldn’t wait just like you. Not even to get upstairs to your bedroom or to get all his clothes off. Like he’s been wanting this all day. Just like you.

You move up and reach down, feeling the wet mess you’ve both made down between your legs. You find his cock, hard and wanting, and position it at your entrance. The head sinks past your walls, enveloping it somewhere deeper and you both groan at the feeling.

You sink down on him slowly, you’re by no means physically ready to take him. But you can’t wait any longer. He kisses you, and down to your neck, making it easier to ease yourself down onto him, and when you finally reach the end, and you’re seated fully in his lap, you both gasp.

Your walls clench around him, eliciting a quiet groan from Joel somewhere near your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head, your forehead drops onto his shoulder. You both just sit there, waiting for the other to make a move.

It’s kind of like a game.

See how long you can both relish in each other’s warmth — the first person who moves loses.

Your walls tighten again and he lets out another groan, “Jesus,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck. You’re slowly adjusting to him, relaxing around him. It makes you shudder.

You realize he’s not really touching you. He’s got his hands on your thighs, but they’re just resting there. Not squeezing or gripping your hips like you know he so desperately wants. Maybe he’s scared, you think. From everything that’s happened today. From the consequences his touch barred.

But you didn’t care about the consequences. You liked his touch, needed his touch, just as much as he needed something to hold him back down to earth, anchor him to you—in you. And afterall, you just want him to feel good. Feel better.

“Touch me,” you gasp out, reaching down to his hands.

“Am touchin’ you,” he forces out, panting near your ear. His thumb absentmindedly pushes down on the skin of your thigh a fraction harder and then eases up, like he’s saying this is the best I can do.

“No, Joel,” you moan, rock your hips a little, moving first, moving frantically and suddenly, “touch me,” you say into his neck, reaching down to usher his hands to your hips, your waist, you.

Joel gets it then, the silent permission. The it’s okay, and grips you harder, but not as hard as you know he would like. It’s good enough for you because he moves your hips, rocking you up and down onto his length—having enough of the senseless grinding.

“Fuckin’ good—” Joel groans, your hands fly to his shoulders, his hair. “You feel good.”

Your legs grow tired, he can tell. You try your best, but you’re sweaty and tired and fucked out, and when he hits a spot deeper inside you that makes you moan out, louder than before, and you almost collapse onto him. He ruts into you a little. Meeting you halfway. Fucking you deeper—maybe even a bit faster.

Your legs ache and you feel a sheen of sweat wash over both of you. And Joel’s eye is fucked up, his cheek too. Tommy is sitting back at the house—or god knows where—with a possible broken hand, Janet baker is watching Sarah instead of you or Joel, Caroline is still back at the house, and everything is a fucking mess, but it’s so right. He feels so right. He’s — he’s right.

You’re close then, the coarse hair on him inching you toward your climax. He knows, he can feel it from the inside. You don’t even have to say it this time, your question for his permission. He can see it already braced on your lips but he shuts you up with a kiss, a sloppy one, where he sticks his tongue into your mouth and your walls tighten around him again.

“Yes,” he says with a moan into your mouth, “yes, yes—ah.”

“Fuck,” you say tightening around him, becoming breathless and boneless, but Joel holds you up. He always does.

He grips you tighter, like how you know he wanted to, and you relish in the feeling. His thrusts become desperate and you brace yourself on the back of the couch so he can rut up deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. You can’t really breathe. Not when he’s everywhere.

“Shit,” he says, rocking into you.

Joel cums hard, holding onto you, wrapping you up in his arms as he groans somewhere near your temple. You let it spread through you, the mess of it all. He keeps you locked in his arms, even when you think he might pull away.

He finally pulls you off him, when he says it becomes too much and you sit on his lap, playing with his curls. When you both settle from your panting you can’t help but ask.

“What are we gonna do?” you say quietly to him.

“I dunno,” he grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. The bruise on his face is turning an ugly shade of purple. And the peas have gone warm, creating a small puddle on the coffee table. And your phone keeps buzzing from the entryway.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, running a hand on your thigh.

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. kisses!

@going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @violinchick @rhoorl

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deadpoolsoci3ty · 2 months

Text

so you're the a (alastor x reader) ch 1

(a/n: so i've been posting this on ao3 for about a week and just decided to post on here too now. also i do not have a posting schedule im busy lol sorry)

summary: finding the radio at that thrift store may have completely changed the course of my life, but really i'm not complaining at all.

word count: 1,789

warnings: none i think (let me know if should add some!)

ao3 link

masterlist

Chapter One: thing of beauty

The cold wind of Chicgo bit at my face as I walked the short walk from my apartment to the thrift store. I’m not totally sure what I was going there to look for, but I just needed to get out of my apartment. The walk was pleasant because I’m a college student home at one o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday, so the sidewalks are barren. The store finally comes into view, and then I’m walking in. I greet the woman at the register, and immediately book it towards the trinkets in the back. I look through their selection of shot glasses and mugs, not seeing anything that I just had to have. I pace around the back of the store until I see this gorgeous antique radio. A radio would be great for background noise when I’m reading, and plus this was a thing of beauty. I may not have a lot of money, but I knew in my heart whatever price this radio was, it was coming home with me. I rushed over to pick it up so I could find the price, but before my eyes could land on the price tag they first saw a small ‘A’ carved into wood in the corner. Maybe it was like an Andy Toy Story situation, a cute little memory from a previous owner. Then I found the price, a solid $60 which I am truly willing to part with for this beautiful radio.

With an extra pep in my step, I made my way to the register to pay for my lovely new friend. I greeted the employee at the register once again, and she looked somewhat excited that I put the radio on the conveyor belt. “Has this been here long?” I asked because I was confused how someone would pass up this piece of art.

“Longer than me, pretty sure,” she shrugged, “all the employees here have made up our little stories about the history behind it.” She rang me up and the screen prompted me to put my card in, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get a sweet treat for a week or two but the radio was worth it. “It has been bought before though,” I furrowed my brow because what was wrong with this damn clock? But, to be honest I didn’t care if the radio even worked or not (I was hoping it did though) it was just beautiful. “The people always come back in basically begging us to buy it back, don’t even care for how much. One guy sold it to us for fifty cents one time.”

Now, normally I would not be caught dead with an object that people had been begging to return, and with the way the employee had been describing the situation the radio was definitely scaring the shit out of everybody that purchased it. But, for some reason I needed this radio. A little about me, I’m a textbook snobby english major. I love all things vintage, I think the classics are the greatest works in English literature, and hold a deep detestment for many aspects of modern culture. Yes, I am annoying.

“Mmm, something tells me I’ll be keeping it for the long haul.” I don’t know what possessed me to say something like this, but I’m just gonna go with it. I thank the employee and make my way out of the shop.

The walk home was much less brisk now that I was carrying this heavy radio, but I didn’t think about it much. I was just so excited. My roommate was out filming for some school project so I could fiddle with it when I got home.

After what feels like forever, I see the fence in front of my apartment. I whip out my keys, and put them in the lock of the first door and lock it behind me, while putting the key into the next door which leads to my apartment. I take off my shoes and lock the door. I walk over to the dining room table and put my purse down along with the radio so I can take my coat off. Once coatless, I grab the radio and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. I mess with the knobs and dials until I hear a crackle. “Yes!” I yelled, as I began switching through the stations, most of the stations I knew from the radio in my car were entirely static. After a couple of minutes I heard someone speaking, the voice was filtered through what sounded like a microphone from the early days of audio.

“Hello dearie!~” the strange voice spoke, I assumed it was a prerecorded file a station was playing. Like a radio version of the history channel. So, of course I didn’t speak back to the radio. Then, the voice came back, “I said…” a loud static started to emanate from the speaker, “Hello!”

My first thought was ‘fuck me, if this is a demon in here, I’m definitely going to fall for one of his traps’ I had just though about this a couple days ago, I want things! Sue me! And I’m not fucking with you two days ago I had been thinking about this shit and now here I am. Welp, I’m fucked, but still I carry on. And now I was sure I had completely lost my mind, so since that had already happened and I was obviously in the middle of an episode of psychosis, I decided to reply, “Oh! Umm I didn’t think you were speaking to me. My apologies!” Whoever this person who was speaking was, I definitely did NOT want him to be upset with me.

“Oh dear, oh dear! Far in the past now! You’ve got my radio!” I could tell whoever was speaking was smiling, I could hear in their voice.

“This is yours? It’s gorgeous, I can assume you’re the ‘A’ on the bottom of it.” I could have asked so many questions, but I went with this one. I’m not totally sure why, but I really want to know more about the strange voice.

“Alastor! That’s my name, sweetheart!” He seemed excited to introduce himself, and honestly I was just as excited as him.

“Hello Alastor! My name is Y/N! It’s nice to meet you! Where do you live, Alastor? I found the radio in Chicago!” Why was I telling this strange voice over a creepy radio where I live.

“Oh when I was alive, my home was New Orleans. Absolutely fantastic! It made it all the way to the Windy City!” My heart froze after his fifth word, hair standing up, goose pimples all over my skin, and a shock through my spine. When he was alive??? What the fuck does that mean? He’s definitely a demon, yep fuck me.

“Just to clarify, you did just say ‘when you were alive’ right? That wasn’t me hearing things, right?” I was hyperventilating out of my damn mind. I absolutely understood now why people had returned this freaky fucking radio

“Oh yes, of course, dear! I’m coming to you straight from Hell.” The way he said it like it was the most casual thing ever, had me feeling like I was overreacting to what he was saying.

“And you’re not messing with me?” After it came out of my mouth I heard him clench his teeth.

“Oh, now what is your impression of me that says I would do that to you?” He seems frustrated with my question, and that did not sit right with me. I was quick to appease him.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant by that, I promise!” I try to stop myself from spilling my guts to this man who I believe might be a demon, because the voice in my head was telling me giving personal information to a demon was probably not the best decision I could make, but I just couldn’t stop myself. “It’s just I never believed in an afterlife or a religion, so it’s just that you have just told me that hell is real and that is absolutely insane to me because now I’m terrified hell is horrible. Is it horrible? I mean I guess that’s the point?” I took a deep breath before I continued my word vomiting, but before I got the chance, Alastor began speaking again.

“Sweet girl~ please stop with the yammering…” His voice seemed like nectar to me, I could listen to him speak all day, “before we continue with our little back and forth, I am going to need to know what I’m getting out of this?” I immediately started thinking about the things I could offer him, not my soul. Wasn’t there just yet.

“What could you possibly want from me?” This was the most genuine question I had asked in a long time, I had absolutely nothing to offer him. I had money for groceries, rent, and utilities. Most of my possessions were books, he was in hell what use could he have for anything I could give him.

“I just adore your voice, little deer!” He was back to being his chirpy self, and it rubbed off on me making me feel a little calmer. “I’m sure you would love to continue our little chats, and in return I’d just like for you to read to me, from a book of your choosing of course.” I was trying not to let off how excited I was, I wanted him to feel like he was getting more out of this than he was. “I’m trusting you have immaculate taste, but give a couple of your favorites just so I can tell.”

After a few quick beats I respond with, “My favorite book of all time is Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, I��m a big fan of the classics, nineteenth century literature.”

“Oh how swell!” he seemed like he was buzzing with glee, “A beautiful voice with even better taste!” He seemed to chuckle to himself and as his laugh faded out his voice came back, “Well, dearest, I’m afraid I must be going for now! I’ll excuse your payment for today, but be ready for next time, my dear,” I took a deep breath at the thought of a next time, “When you want to contact me again, just tune back into this station, I’ll be able to tell. I won’t always be able to talk, but when I can I’ll be there in a jiffy!”

Before I could respond to him the static that accompanied his voice faded and it eventually became silent in my apartment once again. I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and leaned back into my couch.

(a/n: i've written five chapters so far i'll be posting the other four asap)

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor fic #hazbin fic #hazbin hotel fic

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luvangelbreak · 2 months

Note

please please PLEAKSE do a fic where Chris or Matt bullied the reader in highschool and they see eachother in the highschool reunion and the reader is hot

Remember Me

christopher sturniolo x alice reyna (female!oc) summary: as requested above warnings: swearing, mentions of bullying word count: 2.1k a/n: i loveeee this request, perhaps a part 2 if y'all like this?? also pls read my pinned post regarding the whole reader & y/n situation !!

not proofread!!

It had been 5 years since Alice finished school and since she had graduated, she had decided to get her life together. She no longer had to deal with her immature peers harassing her every day and she had never felt more free. She perfected her style and how to dress for her body shape, learned how to cut her hair to suit her face as well as what colours suited her best. She decided at the last minute to go to her high school reunion, already regretting her decision when she arrived in her car in the parking lot.

With a sigh, she checked her makeup in the mirror and made sure her hair sat nicely on her shoulders before jumping out of the car, bag in hand as she slipped her keys and phone into the bag. She entered the doors of the gymnasium, a familiar feeling hitting her as she looked around at the groups of people littered around the place.

"Alice?" she heard a woman's voice chirp to her left and she turned her head to see one of her few close friends from school, someone she had long forgotten about since she moved away.

"Emily," she smiled, walking over to the small group of people the blonde-haired girl was standing with, "It's been so long. How are you? What are you doing these days?"

"Oh my god so much! Got my English degree, had a baby boy, got engaged," she twinkled her left hand out in front of Alice and the dark-haired girl gasped at the massive rock on her old friend's finger, grabbing her hand and admiring the way it shone in the light.

"Holy shit. I can't believe how much has happened within four years," Alice shook her head in disbelief, remembering the last time the pair had spoken was before they both went into their sophomore year of college.

"What about you? Did it work out with Flynn?" she asked and Alice shook her head, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"We decided to go different ways. I've been single for a little over a year now but I prefer it this way for now," Alice explained and Emily nodded understandingly.

"Oh, come talk to everyone," Emily linked her arm with Alice's, dragging her closer to the small group of people before Emily called, "Guys, it's Alice!"

Layla heard a chorus of greetings as she smiled at everyone, sending a wave to them all before one person in particular caught her eye.

He looks exactly the same, she thought to herself as his eyes met hers. His jaw seemed to drop as he scanned her up and down and she mimicked his actions. He wore a black and white Stussy crewneck, black baggy cargo pants and white airforces. Chris Sturniolo still looked like the same douchebag she knew when she left this place.

She looks completely different, he thought to himself as his eyes scanned her multiple times. She looked healthier and fitter with more light in her eyes as he looked around her face. She wore a tight-fitting long-sleeve floor-length dress with black heels, her sleek look making her look even more different to him. Alice Reyna looked completely different to the dorky girl he knew when he left this place.

"Chris," Alice shortly said, giving him a tight-lipped smile with a nod which he returned quickly, diverting his attention to someone else but his mind stayed on her.

She tried to ignore his presence as she engaged herself in small talk with the rest of the group but having him in the same room they were in 5 years ago brought back so many memories it was hard to disregard him.

She excused herself from the group, walking over to the table that was littered with snacks and drinks, grabbing herself a handful of pretzels.

"Hey," she heard a familiar voice say and she spun around, Chris staring through her soul but she didn't let it show that she didn't want him here. She had moved on and she was over it, she would be the bigger person like she always had been.

"Hi," she responded dryly, a small smile on her lips to hide her distaste. Chris saw right through her facade but he knew he couldn't blame her.

"You look different," he stated and she nodded, snacking on some of the pretzels.

"You don't," she responded quickly, eating the rest of the pretzels before getting herself a can of lemonade.

"Listen," he said moving closer to her as she frowned at him, "I'm sorry for everything I said to you. I know I'm five years late but I was such a fucking asshole to you and I didn't even know why."

"Yeah," she shrugged, taking a sip of her lemonade before speaking again, "You were a fucking asshole. I just hope you aren't now."

"I learned my lesson, trust me. I've been trying to make up for what I did since then. I was just immature and I liked getting a rise out of people," he shrugged as he looked down at his shoes briefly, thinking back to all the mistakes he made, "I think it was harder to get a rise out of you and that's why I didn't stop."

"You're lucky I'm a naturally patient person," she raised her eyebrows, still unimpressed with his apology, "And I'm also not a snitch. I might've been a nerd but I wasn't a tattle tail like you always claimed I was."

"Who was it that got me suspended then?" he asked out of curiosity, thinking back to when he got suspended for a week after writing all over Alice's locker.

Alice smirked, taking another sip of the lemonade before she answered, "Emily, actually. She promised me you would never find out who told and I guess she was right."

"I'm glad someone did," Chris smiled lightly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants as he swayed on his feet, "That's when I started getting my shit together."

"That's when you started only tormenting me," she pointed out and his expression turned apologetic.

"I figured out why I liked getting a rise out of you after that though," he shrugged and suddenly Alice was interested in what he had to say. She had always wondered what made her Chris Sturniolo's number-one enemy in school.

"Why?" she asked, leaning towards him as he peered at her, their eyes being on the same level since she had heels on.

"Because I thought that was the only way you would talk to me. You seemed so smart and put together and it made me mad that I wasn't like you," he explained, an annoyed look on his face as he continued reminiscing on his past self, "I envied you and I didn't know how to deal with it so I decided to be a dickhead instead. I don't know what I was thinking."

Alice's face was in a downturned smile, thinking back to all the times he had tortured her. He would always make comments about her school work or the fact she was a goody-two-shoes. He threw food at her after he heard she was top of their class and wrote on her locker the day she found out she was valedictorian.

"So instead of congratulating me like everybody else, you're first thought was to torture me instead and ruin every good memory I had with my academics?" she asked, a raised eyebrow with a slightly amused smile on her lips, "You are a fucking piece of work, Chris."

"I know, it was dumb. But I was a dumb kid, I still feel stupid now but I at least know how to handle that feeling," his smile turned apologetic again as he glanced down at her dress, "You look like you've done well for yourself regardless of my stupid decisions. What do you do now?"

"I got my bachelor's in child psychology. I'm hoping to be a student counsellor or something of that sort," she explained a proud smile on her lips, "Help kids who go through what I did."

"So you could say," he trailed off, a mischievous smirk on his lips as he did so, "You owe me your career."

"Alright, I can barely tolerate being here right now. Don't push your luck," she deadpanned, not daring to let the smile peek through her lips that she held back.

"You're right, my bad," he raised his hands in defence, a smirk still on his face, "That is really good though."

"What about you?" she asked, taking another sip of her drink as she adjusted the bag on her arm.

"Uh, I own a clothing brand. It's based in LA," he explained and she raised her eyebrows in shock, "What's that look for?"

"I just didn't expect a man who dressed like he was homeless in high school to have a clothing brand," she answered honestly making him chuckle before nodding in agreement.

"Yeah well, people change. Clearly," he gestured between them both and she now let the smile peek through her lips, noticing that it seemed like he genuinely had changed.

He may look the same and talk the same way but he carried himself differently. He seemed more confident and less arrogant, quieter and less attention-seeking. Maybe he had finally grown up, she thought to herself.

"Ali!" Emily called to Alice making her head turn before the blonde-haired girl waved Alice over toward the group again. Alice nodded towards her friend before looking back at Chris.

"You comin'?" she asked, a small smile still on her lips and he nodded, grabbing himself a can of lemonade before trailing behind her. He couldn't help but let his eyes scan her body once more, his thoughts travelling to things he wouldn't dare say out loud.

5 years ago, she was a small, frail girl who lacked the confidence Chris knew she had in her. Now she was a woman, her body filled perfectly and she radiated confidence as she walked across the gymnasium. Heads turned to look at her, shocked by the fact she was here looking the way she was and Chris felt eyes on him as well, probably wondering why he was following behind her when in high school, he made it clear he wanted to do nothing but torment her.

Chris never thought he would see her again but now that he had, it made him regret his choices even more. He always knew he was a douchebag in high school, he was deflecting a lot and he didn't understand his emotions at the time. But now as he stood beside Alice, hearing her laugh ring in his ears that still sounded the same as when he passed her in the halls, he decided he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

"Chris!" he heard the familiar voice of his childhood friend call. He spun around to see Nate walking into the gym and Chris smiled as he approached, "I didn't think you were coming."

"Nick and Matt thought it would be a good idea. Ya know, makeup with the people I was an asshole to," Chris shrugged, dapping up his friend who he hadn't talked to in a few days, "I thought you said you weren't coming either."

"Em convinced me," he rolled his eyes and Emily turned around, interrupting her conversation with Alice to focus her attention on her fiancee, "Speak of the devil."

"You said you would be here 15 minutes ago," Emily furrowed her eyebrows as she walked towards Nate, placing a kiss on his cheek and he gave her an apologetic smile.

"Got held back at work, my love. I'm sorry," he placed a quick peck on her lips as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"You failed to mention your fiancee was Nate," Alice spoke up, a surprised look on her face but still somewhat amused and Emily gave her a sheepish look.

"I forget how little we know about each other now. It feels like time hasn't passed," Emily gave her an apologetic smile and Alice returned one with a shake of her head.

Chris couldn't agree less, he felt like so much in his life had changed in the past 5 years and he knew Alice felt the same. She looked completely different, she felt completely different because she was completely different. He just hoped her could prove to her that he was a changed man.

"We're going to a diner after this. Do you guys wanna join?" Nate offered, looking between Chris and Alice and the pair looked at each other briefly.

"Sure," Chris shrugged, knowing he had nowhere to be and his gaze met Alice's shortly.

"Uh, I don't know," Alice trailed off and Emily pulled away from Nate to step towards Alice.

"Please, Ali. We have so much to talk about!" she pleaded with her old friend and Alice hesitated for a moment before nodding reluctantly.

"Okay," she agreed quietly and Emily squealed to herself quietly before clapping her hands, her infectious joy radiating off of her the same way it had always done.

Why am I doing this? Alice thought to herself as she turned her attention back to Chris.

I'm so glad I'm doing this. Chris thought to himself as his eyes caught hers.

tags:

@dsturniolo @sturniolopepsi @chrissturnioloswifesblog @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @stunza @pinklittleflower @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn @v1nuswrites

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partyanimal167 · 7 months

Text

Talk Me Through It- Miguel x F!Reader

Someone (me) has discovered nsfw audios and has not recovered. I've also been into the nerd!Miguel fics that have been going around, but I won't bully him much in mine lol. I'm trying to get some nsfw practice in before I continue my multi-fic, so

cw: nsfw, mdni, fem reader, college au, author knows some Spanish, acquaintances to lovers, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk, munch Miguel

Who was this? ...WHO! Ain't no way...he sound like that? Shit...

You barely stopped yourself from dropping your head on the desk as another student finished presenting their speech. You had mixed feelings about your Public Speaking class considering your major, but there were worse subjects to take. You already presented yours and were only staying to review other students' for extra credit.

You tapped your pencil absentmindedly as the next student stood to speak. You sat up a little better in your seat seeing who it was.

Miguel O'Hara grabbed people's attention whether he meant to or not. He took up space with his height, broad shoulders, and overall built physique. People were very shocked to learn that he was not an athlete his freshman year, and it probably haunted the football coach every season. You only knew him from hearsay and the occasional interaction when he was at the library during your work-study. You noticed him. It was impossible not to, so you were a bit intrigued to say the least.

The man stood at the front of the class and stumbled to get his laptop connected to the projector. Before beginning, he took out a pair of thin-framed glasses and cleared his throat.

"The work-life balance is something that many experts agree contributes to one's personal health. Yet there are many careers that demand inconsistent hours and strenuous work in order for progress to be made. How-," the man paused when he glanced from the screen to the array of faces looking back at him. He blanked for a moment, and you weren't sure if it was nerves or stress. After a moment, an awkward fake cough seemed to break his daze. He went on.

The presentation was actually pretty informative in your opinion, and Miguel did get his points across. You were surprised by the nervous emotions and little habits he displayed. He seemed to try to find a face to latch onto for eye-contact, and more than once did it feel like he was looking at you. You weren't quite sure, but it didn't matter really. He looked a tinge embarrassed when he finished and grabbed his things, but you hope it didn't bother him too much. People freeze, stutter, mispronounce things all the time.

After class you went to grab some lunch with your friends before the afternoon classes began. Your school was very diverse, and it excited you when you could hear different languages spoken at different tables. It was the main reason why you were taking a Spanish class as an elective. The world was connected in many ways, and many people around the world could speak two or even three languages. You glanced through your Spanish notes for a moment as you remembered that there was a project being assigned today. You were nervous, but your friends told you you were worrying for no reason.

...

"It's seem we'll be working together." That smooth voice grabbed your attention as people were packing up to go. You turned and looked up to see Miguel leaning on a desk near you. "I promise this project is going to go a lot better than that speech I gave earlier."

Oh so he did notice you. You smiled and shook your head. "Oh don't worry about that. Your speech was fine." you insisted. "Besides, why are you taking this class any way?" you were sure you had seen him giving parent tours for prospective international students.

Miguel chuckled as he shrugged his shoulders. "Easy A." You figured, but you also couldn't blame him. "How do you feel about presenting in Spanish though?"

You tilted your hand a little. "Eh I'm kinda okay with it. I'm much better reading it than speaking, but I can hold a conversation."

Miguel seemed to light up hearing that. "Verdad? De donde eres?" (Really? Where are you from?)

You didn't expect him to switch so soon, but you continued with the conversation. "Aqui, pero estudie espanol para cuatro anos y muchos gentes a la mi trabajo hablar." You knew what you said wasn't perfect, but Miguel nodded his head along as you spoke. (Here, but I studied Spanish for four years, and many people at my job speak)

"Bueno, pero tu sonas muy nerviosa. Por que?" You thought you were in your head, but somehow it felt as if he was expressing himself more in this language. You couldn't help but blush from the change. (Good, but you sound nervous. Why?)

You chuckled. "I am nervous. I like to say things correctly, and it's hard when I know I'm wrong."

Miguel shook his head. "Me gusta como tu sonas." he grinned. "Well, I'll text you my schedule, and we can find a time for us to meet up."

"Sweet! I look forward to working with you." you beamed.

The man softened a little. "Same."

~~~

You slumped in bed scrolling through your phone trying to find something to occupy the night. There were a couple of shows you could watch, comics to read, or just endless scrolling. You were looking through some fandom content when one of your mutuals sent you a message.

N3rdT@amer: Girl! I just found this. You got to check it out!

There was a link attached, and it brought you to someone's post where an video teased an audio release. You weren't sure why they sent you this but decided to give it a go. You popped in your headphones as recommended and took a deep breath.

You could hear what sounded to be background noise of people chatting and jazz music. The sounds of steam and glass clinking set up the scene in a coffee shop. Foot-steps got louder then a voice spoke loud and clear.

"Hi, can I get a cold brew with a little hazelnut. Large please." a pause..."on the house? What did I do to deserve such kindness?" There was a tonal change that followed--a little flustered and shy. "Oh, you see me scrabbling with my schoolwork over there? Hehe, that's very kind of you. I want to give you something in return." A pause.

The smooth and confident attitude returned. "No, I insist. You off soon? Perfect."

The pause seemed to indicate a scene change, and you gasped when your ears were filled with the sound of lips smacking and heavy pants that you could almost feel on your skin.

"Mierda," the panting continued, "keep playing in my hair like that I'm gonna keep you up all night." a hearty chuckle followed by a loud slick sound had your thighs clenching, "would you like that, chiquita? Then how about-,"

The audio cut off there, and you wanted to chuck your phone at the wall. What the fuck? What the fuck was that! You let out an irritated breath before clicking on the profile. You choked on a cough.

You were no newbie to the realms of internet personalities or seeing people's personal interests. You had mutuals who posted fanfics and also sold sex content. There were people at your school who would be seen as uppity that enjoyed streaming RPG walkthroughs. It wasn't that surprising but...

Fucking Miguel O'Hara? Fuck.

It was an account where he teased his audio works as well as promoted others. You couldn't believe it. That gorgeous man could be a model, and he was also using his voice to make some cash? Honestly, good for him, but now you were left with a little problem that wasn't going away as you scrolled to see what other works he had. You bit your nail a little when you saw you could buy an promotional audio for $1. You groaned internally...Fuck it.

~~~

You were burning up and tried to figure out how you got in so deep.

It had been a few weeks since your...discovery, and you were screaming mentally on the inside. You didn't think a voice could get you so hot and bothered, but you found yourself going down that rabbit hole with a few late-night purchases to your totally unaware partner. It was funny in a sense because you remembered how nervous and kinda awkward Miguel sounded in your Public Speaking class. You noticed it a little when you guys met for your project when he had to speak to cashiers or other classmates he didn't really know well.

It was cute, to be honest. You could tell he was a little self-conscious about it, but it was hard for you to believe Miguel didn't know about his effect on people. Even now, he took you out to celebrate the spectacular presentation you two gave at a local coffee shop. He must have stuttered or something since he was scratching the back of his head, but the barista just beamed at him and batted her eyelashes. You couldn't blame her really.

It was just such a night-and-day situation. That man was so confident sounding in his works and in Spanish, but when there was the occasional slip-up he blushed.

Your drink was placed in front of you, and you looked up with a smile. "Gracias."

Miguel smiled softly at you. "Claro," he took a seat in front of you and stretched. "I'm glad we did well."

"Same," you took a sip of your drink, "but it's not like you weren't going to." you added nonchalantly.

Miguel quirked an eyebrow. "Hmm, why you say that?"

"You know your stuff, and you can speak well." you answered easily.

Miguel brought his drink to his lips, and your eyes glanced at it. I think that's the drink he ordered in that teaser. Your eyes shot up at the thought. Stop. Stop! Don't do that. You've been doing good, self. Not when we're in front of him! "Everything okay?"

"Huh!" you perked up and then giggled awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah."

The man continued. "Well, I try my best. I just don't want to look dumb in front of people."

You kissed your teeth with a shake of the head. "You definitely don't look dumb, trust me."

Miguel looked at your curiously. "Then what do people think of me?"

You tried to stop your brain from glitching. There was no way this man didn't know how attractive he was--at least not completely. "Well uh," you grabbed your phone as a diversion, "let me show you this video! There's this girl who went to Puerto Rico and-," you tapped quickly on your phone while disconnecting your headphones, but wasn't really paying attention as you moved frantically.

"Ah coño, you feeling good, mi corazon?" A deep moan followed. "Do you like that? Let me give you some more. "

You froze. He froze. You made a short squeal as you slammed your phone down, wanting to run out immediately. You thought you closed that tab. Why didn't you close that tab? Fuck, he totally heard that!

Miguel was slow to speak. "What was that?" you blinked and made a dismissive sound. Miguel lowered his voice a little bit. "What was that, mami?"

You know your panic was displayed on your face, but you continued to play dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about...anyway, so here's that vid-,"

Miguel's chuckle cut you off. It was different than his normal one. It was deeper, meaner--the one he used professionally. "Ah, it's not good to lie, bebita." he leaned in closer so only you could hear him. "You like my voice? It turns you on?" he growled lowly.

You refused to look at him. You turned to the side and played with your straw. "Mi-Miguel, we're in public." A mumble. You felt your face warm up significantly; you changed your posture a little and unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.

His low snicker went down your body. "So? I bet you were listening to that earlier. Was it while you were at the library? Supposed to be working, but you wanna hear me call you a good girl and think about how wet my fingers would sound inside you?" You bit your lip then released a shaky breath. "Mirame, chiquita," he watched you turn a little and meet his gaze. He grinned. "Que bueno" he looked you up and down and licked his lips. "Wanna hear something else?" you nodded a little. "Words," (Look at me, little girl./How nice)

"Yes, Miguel."

"Good girl."

~~~

You fidgeted nervously as you sat up straight on Miguel's bed and tried to avoid eye-contact. He was looking down at you completely smug after not saying a word to you on the way over. You were lost in your thoughts, but now, you could only hear the thumping of your heart in your chest.

"Tell me pretty girl," you nearly jumped finally hearing him, "did you get off to my voice?" you opened your mouth to speak, "Mirame."

Slowly, you did, and the sight was wicked. Miguel looked as cocky as you imagined him to. The angle of him looking down at you while you sat made the situation all the more intense and seductive. His eyes devoured you and told you that he was completely in control of the situation--enjoying it.

"I did."

He made a non-committal grunt--glancing around his room in thought. "I want to see."

Your body lit up. "What!"

Miguel chuckled. "Why not? You want me to give you instructions?"

You squeaked. "No! That's not the point...it's just embarrassing."

"Aww, but you did it all those nights at home." he leaned by your ear, "Imagining it was me making all those wet pussy sounds with my mouth. I bet you were hoping I'd find out." he watched as you squirmed from the sheer proximity and how he spoke. His voice dropped lower. "I bet you're wet now." he huffed.

"Miguel," you whined. You were asking for something, but even you weren't sure what exactly.

"What, baby?" he grinned.

You grumbled for a moment before yanking his collar towards you and smacking your lips together. You kissed him to shut him up, but maybe that wasn't a good idea either. Miguel met yours enthusiasm and groaned at the feeling of spark finally igniting. He leaned further in, and you found yourself on your back wrapping your arms around your neck.

He caged you in with his thighs before moving away to tease up and down your neck. He bit and sucked all over--memorizing what and where made you make a certain sound. "Ah there you go. You can make as much noise as you want for me." his words vibrated throughout you. You reached up and rubbed your fingers through his hair and along his scalp. He groaned. "Mmm, someone was listening." he moved up just below your ear and took a teasing nibble from your lobe. ''Which one did you like the most?"

It took you a second to realize what he was talking about, but you didn't want him to pull back. You were already this far; no point in shying about now. "The- the brat tamer one...with the neighbor."

Miguel seemed to approve your answer. "Naughty girl," his hands found your hips and slid a little under your shirt, "you need someone to put you in your place? Good thing I caught you being a slut." you whimpered at the name. "You were just gonna let this be your dirty little secret, huh? Playing with yourself after we did our homework--remembering how we chatted so innocently."

You gripped tightly on his shoulders as his hands ran further up while his teeth bit near your collar. "I should blindfold you right now. You don't need to look at me to finish."

"No! No, please. I want more. I wanna see and touch you, please." you took a leg and wrapped it by his knee--trying to bring him closer.

"Greedy and naughty. Tsk, what should I do with you?" Miguel leaned back before taking the hem of his shirt and lifting it away. Your eyes widened at the display of muscles and beautiful brown skin. You licked your lips. "Was this what you were imagining, chiquita?"

Your hand shyly reached out to touch his abs. "This is so much better." you nearly whispered. Miguel chuckled at your compliment. He backed away slowly; then you yelped as your ankle was pulled moving you to the edge of the bed.

You were bright-eyed as you saw Miguel kneel on the floor easily pulling your pants down. You moaned when he started kissing up one leg after throwing it over his shoulder. He massaged the other and wasn't shy to lick up and down--planting kisses and bites.

You gripped the sheets and started panting and wiggling. "That's alright, hermosa. I wanna hear everything from you. Haré música con este coño." He paused once he was closer and took a look at your panties. "All this just from some simple words." It was almost condescending yet admirable how he said it. "You flatter me." (I'll make music with this pussy)

You shrieked as he mouthed you through the cloth. This man was a tease. You shouldn't be surprised, but you were going to get him to cooperate as much as your foggy mind could do.

"Mmm papi chulo, give it to me good. Plesse baby," you begged, and it seemed that Miguel had a weakness for words too. He wasted no time dragging your soaked panties down and toss them behind. He grinned meanly hearing a faint plop sound on the floor. So wet.

Your hand quickly found the back of his head once his tongue made contact on your clit. You didn't think he'd go for it so quickly, but it seemed he was bent on getting you to cum hard and fast. He lapped up your cunt and made it slicker with his drool. He easily lifted you up a little to bring you closer, and you found yourself losing it when he teased by your hole.

He didn't let up--groaning when you gasped after he gave you a finger. He pumped slowly yet consistently and moved his mouth around to give everywhere all of his attention. Soon, your ears could only focus on the sounds that were coming out of your own mouth and the approval from Miguel below. He took a breather to play with your clit and was in daze hearing how it wet and slippery you sounded. You were all pants, moans, and whimpers. He smirked up at you--face shiny and wet.

"You sound so pretty, hermosa. You gonna soak my sheets by the time I'm done with you." you clenched around his fingers. "Mmm, I know baby; you want it badly." he started fingering you faster. "I wouldn't even need my dick to get this pussy squirting." your moans went up a pitch as that knot suddenly got tighter. "Ooo, hermosa. Such a slutty pussy doesn't even need a dick to make her happy. I should've made you cum with my voice, yeah? Say all those filthy things about you being a brat and how you make daddy so mad." you sobbed at that.

"You should've just been a good girl and asked daddy to fuck this pretty cunt of yours." He sped up and you were pulling at the sheets as three fingers made you clench up--going harder and making you fill fuller. "Naughty girls keep secrets. Maybe I'll stop right now."

That got you talking. "No, no, daddy please. Daddy please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a slut and didn't ask for your dick. Please I'll be so good baby. I'll be such a good girl." you babbled on.

Miguel's cock was begging to be free. You knew just what to say it seemed. "Mmm, that's what I want to hear. Come on reina, let me see you make a mess. You gonna cum on my fingers, for me?" Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you panted and struggled for air.. Wet sex sounds bounced off the walls, and you were going to be done soon. "Start cumming bebita. I'll fuck you so good after this. Yeah? Give it to me. Right there, mmhm. Fuck there you go." Miguel watched as your release started coating his fingers and dripped onto his wrist. He kept going a little til you started to twitch then slowly decreased to stop.

You were slumped on the bed trying to process what just happened while your body recovered from such an intense orgasm. "Fuck," you said to yourself. You groaned as your legs were gently rubbed, and you could barely glance down at the man.

He was all smiles and innocence despite how he met your gaze and cleaned his fingers. Gosh that mouth was going to be the death of you.

As if he reading your thoughts, he grinned before starting to move. "Let me show you what else my body can do."

~~~

Whew! Oh my gosh, I can't believe I wrote this. I'm actually happy with it. I like how Miguel's personality is and I hope my mediocre Spanish skills weren't a pain. I needed to get this idea out my head, and I'm so happy how this is. Maybe I should try writing audio scripts 🤔Thanks for reading~

(Go download Quinn y'all. You will not be disappointed)

#atsv #migeul o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman au #miguel x reader #modern au #spicy audio #fem reader #atsv fanfiction #mine #partyanimal167 #college au #miguel smut

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bingbongsupremacy · 10 months

Text

The Letter Pt. 2

Pairing: Ellie Williams x fem! reader

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used, Homophobia

Summary: Ellie and Y/N are in two very different social groups at school. One day when Y/N's crush is cruelly exposed in front of the whole school, Y/N is brutally shot down. Finally, four years later the two run into each other again.

(I changed it to four years so reader could go to college)

High School AU

Next part will probably be the last part. I'll probably upload it tmr.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

*****

Ever since the assembly my life turned into hell. Ellie dropped me as a tutor and I was placed with some random guy who constantly reminded me of what happened. Kids snickered in the halls. Certain teachers would shoot me looks of disapproval. Kids I've never talked to stuffed church pamphlets into my locker or invited me to church.

It went on for the last few months of my senior year. Whenever any major event took place, Vivian was sure to point me out in the bleachers and remind everyone what happened.

It got to the point where I stopped going to assembly's

At least I had Dina and Jesse. They stood by me through it all. I don't know what would've happened without them.

Whenever I saw Ellie in the halls I dodged her. If I didn't, she'd clearly talk about me to her friends who'd snicker and agree.

That stupid fucking letter made my life hell.

-----Five Years Later-----

My car beeps as I lock it. I glance up at the familiar bright sign before quickly making my way into the supermarket.

Things have changed.

With one look around I can already tell they remodeled the place. I have no idea where any of the shit Dina sent me to get is.

I guess that's what I get for staying away so long. I honestly didn't plan on coming back but I miss Dina and Jesse. I fell horrible staying away all these years.

The store is mostly empty. I mean, who the fuck wants to be out at 11 o'clock at night.

I look around for one of the workers. There has to be someone here.

A small laugh catches my attention.

A long strip of smoke floats up into the air. As I walk closer to the register I start to notice a smell: weed.

" Um, hey. Can you help me? " I ask, peeking over the side of the register.

A head jumps up in surprise, bumping against the top of the checkout stand. " Fuck. " They mutter in surprise, rubbing their would with the hand not holding the joint.

" Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. "

The woman shakes her head, shoving her phone into her back pocket. She snuffs the joint out. " It's fine. " She reassures me, not looking up. " Just don't call my boss, yeah? Fuck, I can't get another write up. Fucking Kaylee with have my ass. " She mutters.

I smile at her disheveled appearance. She obviously wasn't planning on anyone coming in. " Chill, I'm not a rat. I don't care what you do. I just need some help finding some stuff. It's been a while since I've been here. " I hand her the list.

I glance over her hunched form. She nods. Her hair is messily pulled back into a half up bun. A light green vest covers some band tee.

I glance down at the the register.

My heart stops.

" Ellie? "

The womans' head snaps up in confusion. The confusion soon spreads to surprise. " Y-Y/N? Fuck, is that you? " Her poster straightens and her grip on my list becomes visibly tighter.

Ellie's face looks much more tired then in high school. She looks much more mature.

My emotions hit me like a brick wall. Every angry and sad feeling I went through senior year comes tumbling back. Every mocking sentence and rude word hits me like a ton of bricks. It feels like I'm going through it again.

At the same time seeing her activates the old crush I had. While my heart feels like it's being torn to shreds, my stomach does summer saults.

My jaw tightens and I reach for the paper. " I don't need your help. " I mutter. I'll be damned if I let her into my life again. Even if it's just for a few minutes. " I'll go to another store. "

Ellie steps back, holding my paper away. With a head shake, she responds. " What other store? It's fucking Jackson. We're the only store here. "

She's right. We both know it.

" Then...then I'll just get it myself. Give me my fucking list. " I hold out my hand.

" Can we please talk. " Ellie's brows are furrowed. " I- "

I roll my eyes. " I have no interest in talking to you, Williams. " I snap. " Fine, I'll fucking find everything without it. " I begin walking away.

" Fine! " Ellie's voice trails after me. " Look, you don't have to talk to me. "

Fuck, what the hell did I put on that list? Why the hell did I give it to her? Fuck fuck fuck.

I think I'm supposed to get mayo? Wait no. Why the fuck would I need Mayo?

" All you have to do is listen. Please, Y/N. I know I don't fucking deserve it after what I put you through-what I did, but please. Just give me a few minutes of your time. " Ellie begs.

I turn to the girl. She doesn't look like the confident girl I knew years ago. She looks...regretful?

I sigh. " Fine. You have three minutes. "

A small smile of relief flashes across Ellie's features. " Fuck, thank you. "

I nod stiffly, crossing my arms across my body.

" I was a fucking asshole in high school. " Ellie swallows. " I let my friends dictate the way I acted. All I wanted was to be popular. During Freshman year, I got bullied so I started playing a bunch of sports. I befriended a bunch of jocks and eventually a bunch of other assholes who hung around them. I became one of them. I was so fucking scared of losing my place in the group. " Ellie blushes slightly. She glances up at the ceiling, obviously not proud of what she's telling me.

" Anyways, I did a bunch of fucked up shit to stay with them. What I did to you was by far the fucking worst. " Her green eyes meet mine. " And I'm so fucking sorry. I really am. The day of the assembly Vivian came into the room and took your letter out of your sketch book. She didn't tell me what was in it. I knew it was fucked up whatever she was planning, but I didn't think it'd be that bad. I thought she'd just...I don't know...Show a not so great picture you drew off to the school-which is still a dick move-but I didn't know what she was planning. " Ellie nervously wrings her wrist.

" I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I was so cruel to you. So fucking mean. " Ellie looks up at me. " I knew what I was doing was wrong and I still did it. I could've said something to help but I-I didn't. I was a fucking coward and I'm so sorry. I think about it all the time. What if I was you? What if it had been me? What if I had been outed in front of the school? What if people treated me the way they had treated you? What if I treated me the way I treated you? I was so scared people would find out I'm gay. I wasn't ready for people to know. I guess...I guess I thought that if the attention was on you, I could continue sneaking around without people finding out. I can't hide forever though, Y/N. And these past few years I've realized just how bad you had it. I'm so sorry. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but I understand if you can't. Honestly, if I were you, I fucking wouldn't. " Ellie's face is red from embarrassment and shame.

She was scared. She was scared of what people would think if they knew she was gay.

" I was scared, Ellie. I was so fucking scared. I didn't want anyone to know either. I never planned on giving you that note. It was a stupid crush. Even though I was scared, I never would've done that shit to you. I never would've talked shit about you in front of my friends or mocked you in public or at games. " I'm so torn. I don't know how I feel.

Ellie nods, closing her eyes. " Fuck, I'm sorry. "

" I don't hate you Ellie. "

" You don't? " Ellie's voice is surprised.

I shake my head. " No. I just don't know if I can trust you. You hurt me so much. "

Ellie thinks for a moment. " Maybe there's a way I can make it up to you. "

I cock my head to the side, slightly skeptical. " How? "

" How long are you in Jackson? " Ellie leans against a shelf.

" About a week, why? " I'm supposed to be hanging out with Dina and Jesse all week.

" Perfect. Give me five days. I promise, I'll fix what I fucked up. If I can't, you never have to talk to me or see me again. I swear to god I will never talk to you again if you want. Just give me a week. " Ellie's gaze is unmoving, much more confident then moments ago.

Should I trust her? What if she does something? Well she did just bare her fucking soul to me.

With a sigh I reply. " Fine. I'll give you a week. "

Tag list: Idk if I missed anyone. Sorry if I did. Lmk if I did or if u want to be tagged in the next part.

@octavias-next-meat-bite @ximtiredx

#fanfic #fanfiction #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader

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reimeichan · 5 months

Text

Yknow what yeah I do wanna talk about that last post I reblogged.

Because I was in survival mode for so long, I didn't even realize it was survival mode even when I got out of it. My brain was so convinced for years afterwards that I was STILL in danger constantly, even though I was no longer being constantly traumatized and re-traumatized by my abusers. I thought by simply escaping I was allowing myself to heal and recover, never once realizing I never actually did the work to do such. Plus, Survival Mode had been my norm for over twenty years of my life. I didn't know anything else.

For four years after leaving that traumatic environment, I continued on as if I was in survival mode. And, well, that was what worked for me. Work was basically an extension of college which was an extension of high school, and I continued to beat myself up internally to do chores and shit the same way I would avoid being yelled at by my parents. I didn't see anything wrong with any of this. After all, I had a stable income and was no longer dealing with a toxic, abusive environment. Why did anything need to change?

Well, turns out, a lot of my old coping skills were only helping me because they were so maladaptive and hurting the people around me. My emotional dissociation made me distant and inattentive to the emotional needs of the people closest to me. My reliance on panic and adrenaline to get myself started on tasks made me unreliable to others who actually treated me like a human being. And as I slowly realized how much my past had shaped my current behavior, I became more and more aware of how different my current life and my old life were.

And that revelation felt like ripping the carpet from under me, only to find a massive whirlpool of chaos where there should have been solid ground.

It was like my eyes suddenly opened to all the trauma and grief and emotional turmoil that I had pretended did not affect me was now rushing out as a stream out into the open. I had opened Pandora's Box and couldn't close it again. My life that I had carefully cultivated quickly fell apart as I was now all too aware of just how much I hadn't actually worked through and processed. I lost my partner of 14 years, and the stable job I held for 4 years. I was a mess as I tried to untangle the mass of cobwebs in my head from decades of pushing things away, the cobwebs that feebly held me together until they no longer could.

And... slowly, I replaced those cobwebs with stronger things. Instead of ignoring my traumas, I faced them. Instead of ignoring my feelings, I let myself feel them. Instead of pretending everything was fine, I let myself fall apart, so that I knew how to better put myself back together again. I replaced the old coping skills and old behaviors that no longer served me with healthier things that allowed me to move forward. I stacked things neatly in my head where I could see them, instead of shoving them away into a corner.

And in time, I learned how to be happy.

It's weird, really. I thought I knew what happiness was. I thought happiness would have been louder and more obvious. I always saw the people cheering on screen and celebrating as what happiness would feel like. But I've found that happiness is gentle and calming, and I realized the "happiness" I had growing up was not truly happiness.

I'm doing better now. It fucking sucked to get here. But... it's worth it.

#mental health #recovery #healing #personal #okay to rb #by green #functional multiplicity #we're finally accepting that we've reached a point in healing that we can truly deem as functional multiplicity #it's weird to realize we're here but I'm proud of us and wanted to share all this

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just-my-type-x · 9 months

Note

I want to write something with Brad these upcoming days because i miss writing and also i miss him, so if u have any ideas, drop them in my inbox (would love some smut too)

I would love to combine the ideas for an imagine// you work for the vamps and the reader and Brad start to notice they’re falling for each other

Most Feels Aren't Temporary

Based on these requests and on the songs Temporary by 6lack and Right Now by The Vamps

It's not an unknown fact for the Vamps team that Brad and I dated in my high school years. Even tho his career was taking off at that moment, we knew how to manage our relationship and we knew how to make the most of it. We decided to end our relationship in my first year of uni, when i was 19, the lack of interaction being too much for both of us. No more birthday show ups, no more show ups in important moments of each other's lives. He missed my graduation, i missed their biggest festival they played because of exams. It's safe to say we knew we were the right people at the wrong time, which broke both of our hearts to admit, but it was for the better.

But in life there are no coincidences. After i finished college, i met with the impediment of not knowing what path to take in life, i had no idea what job i wanted, i had no idea what was right for me anymore. I kept talking to Kirstie even after Brad and I parter ways, thing that helped me keep in touch with the band also and i couldn't be happier to see that we worked on our misunderstandings. Later the same year i finished college, Joe offered me a job as a PR assistant, as he didn't want to make the job public and he knew i could handle the boys in the best way.

It's been 5 years and I've upgraded from assistant to manager, but I'm glad i don't get crashed by the boys doing stupid stuff that goes out to the fans. Well maybe once or twice a month, but nothing outrageous.

"Hey", Brad smiles at me as he enters my office

"Hey", i lay back on my desk chair and look at his sleepy face

"Did you sleep in here last night?", he laughs as he checks the clock on my desk. It's barely 8 in the morning

"No, smart pants, i got in here earlier because i needed to get a report done for Joe. I can't work on reports on the road because i get sick", i close my laptop and pick up my documents, Brad helping with placing the chair close to my desk

"I know", he offers me a quick smile before yawning. "I didn't know why i couldn't pick you up from your home. When Joe told me you're here, i almost told him to give you days off just because", he motions to his head and mimics and explosion. I laugh at his words and i push the exit door with my shoulder.

"You didn't have to pick me up, i could drive myself to the airport.", i sigh when i drop everything in the backseat of the car, almost bumping into Brad as he comes by my side to help me with my stuff.

"No, put it like this please, at the first sudden break, this goes to shit", he rambles as he keeps repositioning my laptop and my bag in a way to keep them in place.

"But if you put them like this, if you hit the breaks all of a sudden, by backpack is going to get the laptop to shit", i roll my eyes as i reposition my things as well, but Brad's hands take mine away. It's the first time i realise how close we are, our shoulders and arms touching each other, our faces mere centimeters apart. His hands hold mine for a little while, as we take in each other's features. His dark chocolate eyes trace my face, piercing through my own and making me hold my breath. I watch his mouth slightly smiling, causing me to blush and smile back. His pink lips make me reminisce on the old days, a quick memory of us on a date coming to my mind.

We were on the rooftop of a skyscraper right outside of London, where the light pollution isn't as big as in other parts of the city. We were cuddled up, I was resting my head on his chest, while his arms were wrapped around me. As the night went on, the meteor shower we were waiting for finally took place. Tired and pretty cold, we both got up and watched millions of rocks light up small portions of the sky. I wasn't paying attention to Brad at all anymore, but he cupped my face and kissed me hard, like I'd runaway if he backed away. The kiss grew to be a passionate one, leaving us breathless and needy for more.

"I want this kind of show when i propose to you", he said, surprised by his own words

"What if it takes another 50 years?", i laugh, never looking away from his eyes, that were more sparkling than any falling star or meteor shower.

"That, i did not think through. Are they so rare?", we both bursted out laughing and continued to watch the sky light up every now and then.

His smirk grows wider as my stare is still on his lips.

"Thinking about something naughty?", Brad tries to joke, but he clears his throat right after. I just nod and take my hands away.

I take a deep breath, careful not to show any more emotion than the one i definitely did. "If i tell you what i was thinking about, you wouldn't be able to drive straight", i wink at him and take a seat in the passenger seat.

"Uh", he stops in his tracks and can't say anything else, so he just shakes his head laughing and getting behind the wheel.

The drive to the airport is silent and i can't ignore the past few months of me working with The Vamps, especially with Brad. 5 years ago, when i started, it was so easy to be around him, but i also blame it on the fact that i was so focused on my job and pleasing everyone, that i was basically unapproachable. Joe took me to the side and told me that I'm slowly becoming an workaholic and that i should also take some free time, have fun with the band while I'm at it.

I slowly grew out of my fear of Brad and i not getting along, but he was the one to actually show and help me that our past will not define our friendship then or in the foreseeable future. However, the past few weeks had been different. When i get to the studio with the boys, I'm welcomed by a cup of my favourite coffee and a curly head that's all smiley and in a good mood, only to miss out on a few days of accompanying them and Tris, James or Con to say how Brad was a menace because he didn't agree on anything with them. Being the overthinker that i am, i started to ask myself why he would act like that, only because I'm not there.

Slowly, Brad's gestures towards me made the usual butterflies that i feel in the pit of my stomach every time i see him go even wilder, which wasn't exactly what i wanted. If it didn't work out the first time, it doesn't work the second time either, right?

"Ready for Norway?", James asks as he pulls me in a hug.

"I'm always ready for travelling", i smile as wide as possible, my excitement making everyone laugh. "And i love Norway a lot, i missed visiting it", i look towards Brad who winks at me.

"Oh, you've been there before?", Kirstie's excited tone of voice leaves a bittersweet taste in my soul as i can't match her excitement on this one.

"We went there for our 3 year anniversary. After our european tour.", Brad answers before i get the chance and i look down at my Nikes

"As you can see it's been ages since my last visit so I'm definitely looking forward to getting there", i try to make light of the situation, an unsettling feeling fixing in my chest. Why am i affected by something that happened 8 years prior to this moment? Wasn't i ok with the situation?

***

The cold air hits us as we get out of the airport. Strong wind almost lifts us off the ground as we're trying to find our 2 cars to get us to the small cottage we rented.

"This is definitely not how i remember it", i say as i grab onto the hood on my head for dear life. I earn a few laughs from Tristan and Kirstie and i almost trip over my own luggage when the wind pushes it my way.

After a 40 minute drive, we get to our cottage and unpack for the week. Festivals and vacations are an amazing deal,especially when you actually love the people you work with.

As I'm also taking the wheel and replace both Joe and Evie, i talk through with The Vamps the plans for the festival, the hour when they'll start playing and additional meetings i worked on with the Norwegian press.

"Sounds lovely, great job", Con congratulates me and we fist bump as i put the paper with the information aside. "Anyone hungry?", i ask as i check the time to see it's close to 5PM. We all get to cooking, each of us having a certain assignment. As i run out of things to do for the first course, i end up deciding to bake cupcakes so i wouldn't just stare at everyone else doing something.

"Can you make my faves?", Brad's voice comes from behind me, one of his hands resting on my hip as i measure the flour. I feel my heart drop to the floor at his request, but nod and give him a smile. He rushes to the fridge to give me 2 bananas and a bowl of strawberries and i put them away for later.

As we're waiting for the cupcakes to bake, we end up finishing our food and we starts playing games.

"Ok ok, my turn", Tris almost yells to be heard through the wave of laughter. "I once left the store without paying for my stuff. I broke into my neighbour's property to get my ball from their yard. One of my ex's dad almost beat me up because he caught me with his daughter"

"Ohhh this is tough!", Kirstie hits the table lightly with her palms. "I honestly believe they're all true"

"Everything he said can be done by him", i agree with her and Tris rolls his eyes at us.

"Well thank you", he sarcastically says and we laugh at him

"We've known him for a lifetime and i still have second thoughts on this", James rubs his chin.

"Ok, i got it i got it", i say and look Tris in the eyes. "You got beat up, BECAUSE", i put a lot of emphasis on the word because everyone gets loud and laughs. "If you were dating her at that point in life where you were stealing from damn shops, her dad found out and grounded her. So i could only see you climbing up through her window like a lil Romeo and Juliet type of moment", i take a moment to let everyone calm down from my little story and i carry on. "AND, the next day when you were mad you got beat up by her dad, you went out to play football and your ball ended up on your neighbour's property. So all of them are true, you cheated Tris! You needed a lie", i pinch him slightly as he throws his head back laughing.

"What? They're true?", Brad laughs as Tris nods at the chaotic stories.

"But I'm not done because if all of those are true, I'm gonna say that the neighbour you trespassed into the garden was your girlfriend. And you snuck in there because if you would've knocked on the door or called, you'd get jn trouble again.", i finish my story and take a sip of my beer

"I hate you", he jokes as he throws a napkin in my face. I get interrupted by the oven bipping. I go over to the kitchen to get the cupcakes out. I feel Brad's gaze linger as i disappear behind the wall.

"Don't you have a picture or something to stare at? You're getting creepy", Con jokes and Brad flips him off.

"Shut up", a light pink creeps on his cheekbones.

"What's up with you lately?"

"What do you mean?", Brad shifts in his chair

"The sudden urges to follow y/n around, the request of her to make the cupcakes your favourite kind and i saw your hand on her hip.", Con eats a chip.

"And don't forget about his behaviour when she's not around. All moody and shit", James pops a grape in his mouth.

Brad sighs and shakes his head, looking at nothing on the table. "I'm fucked, that's what's going on. I feel like i messed everything up years ago when we broke up. I know i could've done better and could've saved our relationship but i didn't, because i was selfish at some point. I was too tired and i lied to her that i can't make it to her graduation because we were in another city. Initially, i wanted to surprise her and i didn't tell her we're gonna get back earlier. But when we actually did, i couldn't find the will in me to get up early again and leave. She shrugged everything off and didn't mind that i wasn't there, i think she lied, but it made me feel better. Then our schedule didn't match at all but i never told her to come with us at different shows. She offered to take online classes for a semester, i told her not to bother. She found out about these things after we broke up, it's safe to say she didn't speak to me a while.", he scoffs as he continues, everyone listening closely." And we're getting just fine now but i see the smile on her face every time she shows up to work and i know it's because we all maks her happy because she's here with her friends, but i can't say I'm not selfish, again, and i don't wish for that smile to be, at least once, just for me, because she feels the same as i do about her. "

"And what exactly do you feel?", James raises an eyebrow, almost a mischievous smile creeping in.

"I want her back. I want to try again with her, this is what second chances are for, right? To make things better and to prove that I'll turn the wrongs into rights. Even in her college years, it was so hard to see her hanging out with all these people, but i pushed whatever feeling away because i couldn't take her back and treat her the same way as before. To make things worse, lately i get all these flashbacks from when we were together and if i don't act soon, the memories will end up wrecking me.", he taps nervously on the table as everyone's silent after his confession.

"Ok, they're ready and delicious, but they're hot so be careful. Especially you, Tris.", i say as i come back with two plates full of cupcakes.

"What's that supposed to mean?", a fake hurt squeal comes from him

"Because you want to devour whatever is in front of you", we laugh and he agrees.

"I would've had a very naughty answer for you but i can't do this to someone at the table", he laughs and looks at Brad, who's nervously rubbing his chin.

"Oh by all means, i wanna know what you're capable of. Alice asked me about you, i wanna see if you're worthy of her time", i rest one hand on my hip and watch his eyes sparkle with interest.

"I would've said that if i wanted to devour everything that's in front of me, my dessert would've been you, not the cupcakes", be shoots me an innocent smile as i laugh and blush at his statement. We all laugh and i take a seat back next to Connor.

"You're a dead man", Brad says smiling and we giggle a little more before digging into our sweets.

***

Hours later I'm left alone with Brad in the big living room. I stretch myself when i get up off the couch and i yawn.

"No, don't go", Brad whispers as sleepy as me, as he grabs my hand and pulls me in front of him, looking up in my eyes.

"It's late, Bradley, let's go to sleep", i offer to pull him off the couch but he stays put. Instead, he pulls a bit more by my arms and i end up sitting on his lap, my legs on his side, as my hand are glued to his chest. I take in his scent and i close my eyes to take in the moment and the feeling of him.

"Can i sleep with you? Please? It's been so long since", he brushes his nose on mine and i hold my breath because of how intimate this moment is. "I miss you. And this", he puts a hand over my hands, "isn't enough for me. I miss your touches that are more than just mistakes because we want to grab the same thing, i miss your smiles that are just for me, not for everyone else in the room", he stops, cupping my cheek with his hand, making me look into his eyes. His thumb brushes over my lips, lingering on the bottom one and tracing its shape slowly. "And these lips, y/n you don't understand how desperate I am without them"

With no mind of my own, i press my lips on his, taking him by surprise, almost pulling away at my sudden action. He kisses me back, holding me by the back of my neck, while one of hands runs through his curls. He traces my lip with his tongue and i part my lips to let his tongue slide in. We bite on our lips, suck and taste each other and he helps me change positions to straddle him, his hands not going lower than the small of my back, earning a soft, annoyed moan. He chuckles at my reaction and pulls away. He kisses me one more time and i climb down from him. Confused, he raises a brow.

"Bradley, this won't work."

"It will, because I'm 100% ready to start again with you. The break up was mostly my fault, but i can assure you that my feelings for you weren't temporary. And I'm sure i wasn't supposed to feel this way in case my feelings were long gone", he confesses and i rub my forehead

"What are you feeling?"

"Love. I feel like i love you still, like we never broke up and like we are mature enough to face the reality. I never got over you and i don't know if it's because you work for us, but I'm sure i wouldn't had been able to move on from you ever. Give me one more chance to prove to you how much you mean to me. We don't have to do everything right just yet, but we're right now, in this moment and if i lose you, I'm afraid I'll never get you back. I can't let you slip away. ", his handa cup my face again and i cup his, brushing by thumbs over his cheekbones.

"Ok, and i promise to always be by your side ans support you more than i ever did in the past. I know i also did some wrong things, which i will always regret. I know you're right for me and as most people are temporary, i know we're not temporary for each other. ", i close the gap between us, as my lips glue to his, the familiar feeling of the shape of his mouth seems to have never disappeared in the first place.

#brad simpson smut #bradley will simpson #brad simpson imagine #bradley simpson #brad simpson #bradsimpson #bradley simpson imagine #the vamps #the vamps imagine #celebrity imagines

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vampirevatican · 3 months

Text

Nothing's new...

pairing - judd birch x fem!reader

genre/tags - angst, break-up, moving on, time lapse, reader is burn out gifted kid

summary - Judd was so caring yet drastically different from you. It wasn't like he didn't have life plans but it didn't align with yours, or outsiders would say. You put it off, did your best to ignore it. Though some nights you couldn't avoid it, so you reasoned that as long as you were together... in any form, way or sense of the word then you were happy. One thing, you forgot to factor in how he'd feel, the weight of what he meant and how he'd handle that. It'd be fine right? It had to be.

notes - 954 words. based on this idea. idk, i just think it's fun to analyze a character way past what's given on the screen. is it giving 'you were a wonderful experience.'/'you were... everything'? because i need it to. apologies to it being so fast paced and maybe half baked? i just rly wanted to finish this and my love for him went... poof

req. tags - @rosaprep

Driving back home something constantly nagged at you, Judd, or mainly your relationship with him. You've been together for a couple years, he's seen you through highschool and the first two years of college. He always kept you away from trouble but whenever things were safe he'd tell you all about his misdemeanors. He really wasn't a menace, but he was no saint either. Your boy wasn't the type to follow societal expectations and would rather bend those rules as much as possible instead of bending himself. He never understood why you did it, but understood that it just worked for you. So he cheered you on when you went off to college and he stayed back doing vocational school. By the time you were on your second year he already had a job. You were so proud and happy for him, but after a dinner date as celebration you thought about how your lives would ever intertwine.

You worked so hard making sure he always had a place somewhere in your life that at this point you couldn't loose him, and now you were wondering why that is. As you check your phone in your parents driveway, you check your phone.

emo boy 🖤: 'hey. nice you're back.'

you: 'nice to be back. did you want me over now or ltr.'

emo boy 🖤: 'as soon as you unpack.'

emo boy 🖤: 'please.'

It took most of junior year of high school to freshman year of college to get this proud bastard to say please and thank you but he did, even if it was just for you. Despite your smile, that nagging thought came back. 'Why do I need him so bad.' It felt like you knew the answer but it felt so wrong to admit it.

you: 'yes sir 🫡'

You tossed the phone into the passenger seat with your purse and put your hands in your face. You love Judd, you really do. There's so much more to him than just some form of rebellion or new and exciting thing, but you couldn't deny it anymore. 'He's the break in the chain.' Then you hop out and get everything settled before seeing your boyfriend again.

Something was up with her. As I held her close, chin resting on top of her head and I rubbed her back she just held me tighter. I figured it had to be school. I've seen her stress out before, just for her to pull it all together and make it. She'd make a B look like the end of the world when school started, and by the middle to end she was exhausted. I liked seeing her stop caring sometimes. Not because I'd want her to fail but she was way too hard on herself, so if she ever did seriously fall behind on something I'd help pick her back up. This was different though.

Judd never understood why you were with him. His self esteem wasn't complete shit but he had heard enough romcom bullshit plots from Leah that you two matched the good girl and bad boy trope. When he thought about it, she wasn't wrong. He knew that if he went to college then it'd be specifically to try and burn a hole in his parents pockets. They'd cheer him on, mainly Elliot, for whatever the hell he did so it didn't matter to him. Though, college was a very big thing for you. He remembered you lowering expectations and tossing out your own dreams to please your parents. You were so pissed that they wouldn't let you just run off to California, and you settled for defying them by picking a major you wanted. Two years in, you were doing what you loved but at what cost? Just to leave that university with a piece of paper that said you stuck out four years of stress?

He looks down at you while you tried to cuddle even closer to him and he smiled. 'It's like she wants us to melt into each other,' and that thought alone spurred on questions of why. Not like it wasn't nice or anything like that. Though the only time you did this was when there was a lot on your mind, usually doubts. "What's wrong." He didn't pull away, or force you to look at him, his voice was steady and even, as he looks at you, the person he cares so much for. Seeing a head shake he could feel it in his gut that it was something about their relationship, about him.

Whenever you got quiet it was enough to make him worry, to question how long you two would last. He knew that you loved him but in moments like this it made him wonder if you still did. As the break went on he saw you less, and if you ever picked up the phone it was like your voice was hiding something.

"Are you thinking about breaking up with me."

That was the sentence to end everything between you two. You tried to tell him no but it only lead to him asking why. He had already heard enough from his family and friends about how he's not good enough. That you two paired together didn't make any sense but somehow it worked. He just wanted to hear it from you.

It's been years since that break up, but ever since that day you haven't felt a thing. You haven't felt anything at it's peak positive because now everything was the same. Even seeing him again at a bar didn't feel the same. You were both cordial with each other, he still bought you drinks, laughed with you, but it was all bitter sweet now.

#judd birch x reader #judd birch angst

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panicfanatic · 6 months

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What A Blessing (To Meet Someone Like You).

I'd never really processed just how much my life was set to change after I'd left school. I suppose five years of sitting through the same classes with the same people all day five days a week does make it hard to acknowledge that one day, you will sit your exams, go to prom, and then never look back. You get a job, start earning money, then before you know it, you're moving out of your childhood home. You get your own place, and even though it's just some shitty flat in central London, it's your shitty flat in central London, and you're proud of it. You try your best to keep in touch with old friends, but eventually there will come a day where you get a new phone, and while you're transferring all of the contacts from your old one, you forget to add a few numbers; the numbers of people you once saw every day, but now only speak to on Christmas and birthdays. If you can even remember the latter. You grow up, and enter the world as an adult. It's bittersweet, but time marches on, and your life as you knew it begins to shape into something else entirely. This was the truth I had to deal with. I left school, and enrolled in college, then in the blink of an eye, I was graduating university with an English Language degree and buying my own place two hundred miles away from my parents. I stopped speaking to friends from school, and I began living my new life.

Which leads me up to now. I sit at the kitchen table in my tiny flat, sighing as a headache begins to form behind my eyes. I stare blankly at the screen of my ancient laptop, silently willing the words to write themselves. I'd never managed to do much with my English degree, and now I sit here with a job at a tabloid newspaper that I secretly hate, wishing I could move on to bigger and better things. Instead of publishing gripping romance novels for the masses to read and love, I spend my time writing about music and celebrities and sports and things I really couldn't give any lesser shits about. It's my only source of income, however, so there isn't much I can do. I barely constitute as a journalist, even though that is supposedly my job title.

I would write those gripping romance novels, but the prospect of sharing my prose with anyone, even my closest family and friends, fills me with such terror that I can't bring myself to send an email to the publisher's office, like I've been planning on doing for months now. Every time I hover the cursor over the 'Send' button, I freeze with horror and close out of the tab. It's sort of like stage fright but for nerds.

I leave the block of flats and cross the road, my feet subconsciously carrying me towards the coffee shop on the corner that I frequently visit. I enter the small, cosy shop, smiling softly at the gentle scent of coffee beans and spiced syrups hit my nose. The shop is warm, and I already feel more at ease as I approach the counter. I give my order, then wait for my drink to be made. I quickly pay for it and bring it to one of the tables in the corner, near another table where a tall guy with fluffy brown hair and circular glasses sits, long legs stretched out and a book in his hand. I don't catch much of his face, as his nose is buried in the book (it appears to be a notebook of some sort, but I can't really tell), but he seems to have nice taste- he wears a cable-knit sweater with black pants, and his black rain-coat hangs over his chair. I glance away as I sit down, pulling out my phone. I scroll mindlessly through Twitter, and I actively feel my brain becoming numb as my eyes skim over the latest celebrity drama that I'm undoubtedly going to be asked to write about within the next week. I sip my coffee absently, idly wondering why I pay so much for it every day when my income isn't exactly as disposable as I'd like to believe. I push the thought away, allowing myself to just enjoy my regular spiced latte, because you only live once, right? So what if I go bankrupt over coffee? I'm going to die one day, anyway. It won't matter then, will it?

I almost jump when I get a notification from my closest friend, Angelica. (She often goes by Angel to those closest to her, which is ironic, considering she is anything but). I open the message, and I don't know whether to be disappointed or amused at the image she's sent. It's some stupid meme she probably got from Tiktok, and I roll my eyes fondly as I type my response. 'What the fuck. Weirdo.' Her response is simply dripping with disdain, and I laugh softly under my breath. After a moment's hesitation, I ask her if she wants to meet up. Her reply is immediate: 'Of course.' I tell her where I am, and she promises to be here in ten minutes, tops. I know it will take her at least twenty, but I let myself believe her as I order her a drink.

It does indeed take her around twenty minutes to arrive, and she collapses into the chair opposite me. "You got me a drink." Is all she says as she gulps down at least half of the coffee. "I did. I owed you off last week." I shrug, taking in my best friend's features. Her hair is a wild mess of caramel-coloured curls, matching her light brown skin. Her almost-jasmine eyes are bright, as always, and her full lips are set in a smirk. "Oh, so it's not from the kindness of your heart then. I see how it is." She rests her chin in her hands, her bright eyes meeting mine. "How you doing, anyway? You still on that magazine shit?" "Yes, I am still on that magazine shit. Unfortunately." I sigh softly as I drain my glass. "What about you? Still living off your dad?" She snorts. "Nah. He made me get a job. Bullshit, if you ask me." "No way you have a job." I gape at her. "What is it?" "I work in a music studio now. Producing, and shit. It's actually quite fun. Plus I get money for it, so." She huffs out a laugh. "Well, glad to know one of us is enjoying their job." I laugh, then add, "So, when did you start this?" "About a month ago. I think I forgot to tell you." Angel's always been like this, ever since school. She's the only person I kept contact with from school, and never once has she changed. God, her whole house could burn down and she'd forget to tell me. I suppose she just assumes I already know, on some sort of spiritual level, everything that's happening in her life in real time. "Of course." I roll my eyes fondly.

"We had a band in, last week. Lovejoy, they said their name was. The music they were making is pretty good, actually. The sort of thing you'd enjoy." She hums softly. "Yeah, and they're doing a show soon. You should go. You need a break, anyway." "Hm. Maybe, I'll think about it." I fall silent for a moment, the name of the band ringing a bell. Lovejoy... "Promise me you'll go. You overwork yourself, and you're clearly sick of your job." Angel stares at me intently, her gaze piercing, and I find myself nodding. "Okay, okay, I'll go. What did you say the name of the band was again?" I pull up my notes app so I can write a reminder in my phone to buy tickets and research the band. "Lovejoy." Angel supplies as I type it into my phone. "I feel like I've heard that name somewhere..." I trail off as I search my mind. I catch glimpses of dining tables and empty word documents, of frustrated sighs and coffee shop visits. What was the article I was supposed to be writing about again? Some up-and-coming internet band? "I think I'm meant to be writing an article on them and interviewing them." "Oh my God, then going to the show is the perfect opportunity!" Angel grins widely at me. The fluffy-haired guy gets to his feet, but I don't watch him leave and instead turn my eyes back to Angel. "Sure." I smile back, allowing myself the slightest bit of excitement that I'll get to see a concert and get some work done in the same night. Maybe a tabloid magazine isn't so bad after all.

Even after eight years of not being a secondary school student, my lack of work ethic has always remained the same. I shamelessly went straight to my bedroom after re-entering my flat and pulled up my favourite film on my laptop instead of doing any sort of work. I can feel my old teachers looking down on me, even from here. I shrug off the guilt and get comfortable in my pyjamas, and even take the liberty to make myself a hot chocolate while I burrow under the many blankets of my warm, comfy bed. So what if I have a night off? It's not like I do it every we- oh, wait, I do. Whoops.

After the film has ended, I pull up Lovejoy's website, searching for tickets to their show. I find the show nearest to me and quickly buy myself a ticket,satisfied with myself; this counts as work. I'm going to the show to interview the band I'd been asked to interview. Buying tickets counts as working. Or at least preparing to work. I'm telling myself this now so that when I fall asleep later with my laptop still open on my lap, I can feel a little less bad about it.

I give a few of their songs a listen, and I find that Angel, as usual, was correct; it is the sort of stuff I enjoy. I fall asleep to one of them named 'Taunt,' and I feel a strange sense of warmth as I slip into the land of dreams.

#lvjy #lovejoy #normal people things #will gold #mark boardman #ash kabosu #ao3 fanfic #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot

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bippot · 1 year

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Summary: When his old college pal inherits her grandmother's lake house, Bob is the first to nominate himself to help out. It gives him something to do and a chance to feel young, something that he only feels when he's in the sky.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, House Cleaning, Astronomy, Face-Sitting, Light Dom/sub, Slow Build, Caretaking, Idiots in Love

Song Recommendation: Every Summertime by NIKI

Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd Masterlist - here

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

So many people had told Bob since he was a kid that he had an 'old soul', whatever the fuck that meant. Was it because he was on the quieter side? Or was it because he was thoughtful and kept things to himself, which was a vast difference from those he surrounded himself with? Honestly, Bob had no idea.

Even when he was younger he never felt young. Sure, he played with toys and had an imaginary friend when he was five, but by the time he was ten, he was sitting at the adult table at dinner parties. He never got in trouble for sneaking out after curfew or getting drunk with his friends before he was of age.

His father once told him, "Bobby, you and me, I feel like we're the same age." Bob was eighteen at the time and just about to move away for college. It didn't make sense to him - he was a young, strapping lad, why didn't a sense of youth enter his life?

That may be why he chose such a dangerous career. Youth goes hand in hand with adrenaline, and what's more adrenaline inducing than firing an arsenal of weapons from the backseat of a jet? So, yeah, that's as close as he got.

Throughout the years, he'd come to some conclusions:

1) Hangman has definitely been lying about the majority of his sexual encounters. Rooster, on the other hand, was not.

2) Most people have that sense of teenage giddiness when they're first in love. Bob did once have a girlfriend in the tail end of high school and he did like her. But, looking back, he didn't love her. He just didn't want to be seventeen and without a girlfriend.

And 3) He was lonely. And ever since his mama died, he didn't really have anyone to talk to about it anymore. None of his coworkers or friends would want to know, and Bob knew for a fact that he didn't want to tell them.

So when his very good friend Y/N inherited her estranged grandmother's lake house, Bob volunteered to help her redecorate. It would give him something to do during his time off and would force him to interact with another person. There was no way he'd spend all his day drinking beer and reading Steven King in his underwear if Y/N needed help.

"Ah, home sweet home." Y/N unlocked the front door and swung it open, gesturing for Bob to go in before her with a playful bow. "After you, my good fellow."

"Why thank you, fairest maiden."

They entered, both surveying the house room by room to come up with a plan of what to do. Y/N had already begun making a mental list of all the things that needed to be replaced, and how much it was going to cost. Bob, however, was more focused on how picturesque the view of the lake was from her living room.

"Woah."

By the look of it Y/N was too preoccupied to notice so Bob stretched out and grasped onto her biceps, dragging her in front of where he was stood and tilting her chin in an effort to force her to take some time to bask in the sight of the water crashing over the rocks outside her window. She was so stunned that she could only stare silently at the slow current of the lake and didn't notice how Bob was gently rubbing his hands up and down her arms. It was an unconscious action, his focus entirely still on the beauty outside the window and not on the beauty in his arms.

"Now that would be a great painting," he finally said softly, breaking the silence of their quiet moment.

"I can't even think of art with all this house shit I've got to do."

"We've. We've got to do," he corrected gently. He released her arm and took a step back, giving himself space to continue taking stock of all the heavy and seriously outdated furniture they'd have to carry out of there. There was no doubting that the puke yellow coloured couch would be one of the first things to go.

Room by room, the pair checked out the house. Structurally, it looked sound to the untrained eye. Aesthetically, not so good. It was clear that the style hadn't been updated since the sixties. And, it seemed that Y/N's grandmother had been a fan of awfully gauche animal prints. "That was certainly a choice." She reached out to pick at part of the faded tiger print wallpaper in the master bedroom. "If there's a mirror on the ceiling, I'm going to freak. Bo, tell me there's not a mirror."

He glanced upwards.

"Nope. But, there is a huge spider."

Even the bathroom was less than fashionable and came with one of those awful furry toilet seat covers. Y/N almost gagged just looking at it. There was no chance that was staying. Not that he needed to say it out loud, but Bob declared, "This is going to be a lot of work," just to make it official. Y/N couldn't disagree if she wanted to, not only because it was Bob and it was hard to argue with that cute face, but because he was completely and utterly correct.

Day one was spent binning anything simple and useless - including the aforementioned toilet seat cover and the mass amount of letters that had accumulated by the front door - and brainstorming about what the hell the house should look like. As it turned out, it wasn't as easy as they'd originally thought.

A lot of their time involved scrolling through Pinterest. The moment one of them saw something that could work, they showed the other what they thought were acceptable colours or styles. Once they both agreed, it was saved.

"What time is it?"

Despite having their phone screens right in front of their faces, Bob glanced down at his watch. "Nine twenty-four."

And then he was unable to stop his stomach from rumbling. Shit. They'd skipped right past dinner and, as per usual, Bob whined for Chinese food. Y/N, as always, gave in. The main reason why was because there was no food in the house. It also possibly could be the fact that Bob would always order something different every time and forget that he's a complete baby when it comes to anything spicy. When he said the words 'szechuan chicken', she made sure to add a meal he'd like better and a bunch of drinks to a new order.

Yet, she didn't tell him. Where's the fun in that?

"Food arriving at twenty-two hundred hours, lieutenant. Permission to see if that old ass TV is still operational?" Y/N joked, referring to the chunky old school hunk of a thing on the coffee table.

"Permission granted."

He grinned, watching as she crouched behind the TV to get a better look, giving him the perfect opportunity to totally not check out her ass. Okay, maybe he did check it out once. Or twice. Or three times. Whatever, maybe it was more than three.

After pushing the plug in the socket once she'd finally found out where the hell it was, Y/N pressed the on button. Nope. She grabbed the remote and gave it a few pokes. Nothing either. It was a bust. "We've got a dud on our hands."

"I've got a couple of episodes of The Great British Bake Off download on my phone. We could always watch that?"

"That is the most on brand thing you've ever said."

Propping up his phone with as many cooking books he could find and one copy of 27 Dresses on the coffee table, Bob huddled closer to Y/N so they'd both be able to see the screen. Although he had a big and fancy phone (that had the text size absolutely huge so he'd be able to see whatever popped up on the screen without even needing his glasses on), the screen was not ideal. They had to sit quite closely together to make it work. Neither of them complained about that.

"Look, the height of luxury!"

"Shut it, Floyd."

On the dot, the food arrived and they were quick to dig in. And the drink order came minutes later. The second Bob brought his meal to his tongue, the heat had already begun to fill his mouth. This shit was spicy! "Holy Fu-ck. Ah! Ah! Hot. Very, very... ahhhj," he cried, his face already flushing.

He stuck his tongue out in a way that was very obviously trying to cool himself down and had Y/N giggling at him. That was when he put the chopsticks down and waved in an effort to force cold air to his mouth. It didn't help. Not one bit. Then came the tears streaming down his face. "It gets worse when I breathe! Should I stop breathing altogether?" Bob hiccuped, and she knew this was the time to offer him relief. Any more suffering would be cruel on her part.

"Milk?" she asked as she reached into the drinks bag and retrieved a bottle of milk. She handed it to Bob, who immediately opened it and downed half in one gulp, leaving the bottle resting against his lips while his head rested against the back of the sofa. He let out a sigh that sounded suspiciously like one of relief.

"Oh my God." His eyes were wide, almost comically so. "I think my tongue passed out for a minute."

Y/N laughed and her hand shot to grab him a napkin. With a gentle smile, she dabbed away at the remaining moisture around his face. He continued to look at her, his face not changing as he kept staring at the soft way she handled him. The little smile never left her lips and he could swear that he swore that it grew bigger the longer he watched her, which caused his own smile to grow wider until they matched.

"You knew it was that spicy and let me eat it anyway?"

"Maybe..." He nudged her in the arm with his elbow. "Maybe I knew that Kenny is coming tomorrow to check out the electrics and he's a fan of spicy stuff."

With that, she brought out the chow mein she'd bought for this exact moment and placed it on his lap, smiling smugly as he ate it without batting an eye. And, most importantly, without acting like a little bitch about it. The pair continued the meal, occasionally talking about anything they could think of. Their banter flowed easily between them as it had since they met in college.

"All I'm saying is that I'd be great on this show."

"You? The same Robert Floyd that once put ramen in the microwave a) still in the plastic and b) for half an hour?"

"I was a boy back then, now I'm a man," he declared, pointing his chopsticks at her accusingly.

She poked him in the chest. "Just because you've got bigger muscles, doesn't make you a man," she teased, poking him again just because she could. One because it was annoying, and two because she could feel how firm his chest was under her finger.

Bob caught her hand before it jabbed him again. "Stop that," he ordered playfully, though there was no bite to his voice as the corners of his mouth quirked upwards in amusement. She tried to wiggle out of his grasp but his grip tightened around her wrist. "Say I'm a man and I'll let go."

"Never."

Casually, he swapped which hand was holding hers so he could continue eating whilst restraining her. He wasn't rough or nor was it particularly gentle either; he just wanted to keep that sweet little pout on her face as she had to use her non-dominant hand to use her chopsticks, which seemed to be an arduous task. He didn't seem to mind watching her struggle though. If anything, he was enjoying it. It was payback for not telling him that his food was going to be spicy. It's not as if it was affecting his chopstick movement at all and that's why he finished his food long before her.

"You could just give in, you know?" he mused out loud. "Tell me that I'm a man and I'll let you have your hand back. Easy peasy lemon squeezy."

"Are you suggesting I surrender?" She raised her eyebrows. "Do you want me to surrender, lieutenant?"

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes that he couldn't ignore and suddenly he wondered if that's why he liked this girl so much. Maybe it was because of that playfulness she always displayed that always made him feel slightly like a dope. In fact, he really was beginning to wonder just how he felt about her.

And yet, there he was, sitting there with a silly grin on his face and feeling like an idiot as he watched Y/N's expression turn from playful to serious in a matter of seconds, the playfulness retreating and in its place being replaced by something more akin to determination as she tried to shove a bunch of noodles in her mouth.

"Here, let me." Before she could complain, Bob snatched the chopsticks from her hand and picked up her food for her, holding it in front of her lips until she opened her mouth to let him feed her. "You could just say those magic words?"

"Maybe I like being fed like I'm some lazy sultan and you're my obedient bitch boy."

He shook his head in amusement, accepting that statement as truth since she seemed to willingly allow him to continue without argument. He fed her another piece of food, and another, and another. They went back and forth like this until she was stuffed. "Thanks Bobby. I guess you, as a twenty-nine year old human male, could be classified as a man," Y/N finally admitted as she pulled the empty bowl away from him and set it aside on the coffee table, leaving his lap free for her head to rest against his thighs.

Bob looked down to the hair tickling his skin just under where his shorts ended and sighed happily at the feeling. At first, he rested his hand on her shoulder and gave a light squeeze, then slowly his thumb started tracing small circles on her skin, causing her to close her eyes, sigh contently, and snuggle closer to him. What was that feeling? Was it the giddiness he yearned for? Or was it just the excitement of hanging out with a friend? Whatever it was, it seemed almost too good to be true. As if he were dreaming. As if he should wake up and realise that this was all just some bizarre domestic fantasy that he had to wake up from and find himself alone in his bunk. Or maybe he was dying and this was his brain's final attempt at bringing him some happiness.

To test out if this was real or not, Bob gently took a strand or two of her hair and held it closer to examine the detail of his supposed dream. That was far too intricate for his imagination to come up with. He chuckled, a sound full of warmth that made Y/N open her eyes and look up at him, confused. "Are you checking me for split ends?" she asked, trying to read his features carefully.

"Something like that."

This wasn't a dream, he knew that now. Yet, it felt almost too good when he let his hand rake through her hair. It was silky smooth. Soft, warm. Y/N closed her eyes once again, enjoying the attention to which she had been subjected to. Her face heated up at his touch, but it wasn't an uncomfortable heat, quite the opposite. Rather, she found herself relaxing against him. His fingers continued their quest, gently brushing over every inch of her hair while he spoke to her, telling her about everything and nothing just like usual, but something changed within her and a smile graced her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

That day would become a cherished memory within his life. For it would forever change their friendship in a positive manner, before either of them knew it. And as they lay tangled, both sleeping soundly as if none of it mattered, Bob felt like a lovesick teenage boy for the first time in his life.

Day two of renovations was spent stuffing all the moving boxes in the spare room so there would be space to plan out the layouts of the more important sections of the house. The walls and gross faded cabinets would need to be painted, some furniture and curtains needed to be ordered, and, as their buddy Kenny said, "This will be a bitch to rewire, but I'll do it." Then he was handed Bob's szechuan chicken and exited the house happier than he arrived.

It seemed that redecorating a house was a lot of waiting patiently as Y/N's father had insisted that she get actual professionals to check out the structure before they wasted money on the wiring, which was a good idea considering the state of the place already. Once the roof and attic and foundations had been checked, it was more than a month in.

"Bobby, you don't have to wait around with me. Don't you want to sleep in the comfort of your own bed? You'll be bored out of your mind here."

Well, the truth of the matter was that Bob liked falling asleep on the couch with her every night. They often talked in hushed tones in the early hours of morning, talking at a normal volume was far too loud for their tired ears, and he would be a fool to give that up. "What am I going to do back in my apartment? That's right, mope about until my new mission, so I might as well just hang around here to annoy you."

Something in him forced his hands out to squish her against his chest and he wrapped one arm around her waist so he could pull her closer to him as she tried to wriggle out of his hold. "You're not going to get away from me that easily," he teased, pinching her side lightly to make her giggle. Obviously, there was no escaping. Not that she wanted to escape, anyways. Giving in quicker than she'd have liked to, Y/N relaxed into his embrace and leaned her head against his shoulder, taking in his scent, his warmth, and his company.

"All done, Miss L/N," the surveyor said, walking in on their moment. After giving him a friendly pat on the peck, Y/N stepped back from Bob to deal with whatever payment or paperwork she needed to do.

Once all the checking had finally been completed, they could get to the fun stuff - the decorating and furnishing - and they were eager to get to work.

"Hand me the screwdriver, darlin'."

"Say please."

He rolled his eyes, but did as she said with a sweet "Please. Pretty please" and was rewarded with the screwdriver being held out to him. He accepted it with thanks and proceeded to pop open the paint can. "Come on, I'm not doing this all by myself. Pick up that paintbrush."

"Give me a sec," she retorted, pulling the hair band off her wrist to tie up her hair.

It shouldn't have been so fascinating to Bob, watching with fascination as she gathered up her hair in her right fist and started tying it with her left, but it was. There was something entrancing about it. Something captivating. He wanted to keep looking at her, at her hands working so deftly against her scalp, the way her tongue peeked out and her brows creased in concentration. So focused. So determined.

"Ready?" She asked, snapping him out of his daydream as she looked up at him from below her lashes and smiled.

"Me? I've been waiting for you."

So they got on with the painting, the radio playing softly in the background as the rest of the world fell away and allowed the sounds of their brushes against the paint on the canvas to fill the air. Every now and then, they glanced at each other and grinned like idiots, their smiles so wide and happy that their faces hurt.

"Love this song!" Bob exclaimed, breaking the silence as he turned the music up louder and put his whole body to it. His movements were so goofy and so uncoordinated that it didn't take long for Y/N to start laughing at his silliness.

Normally, Bob would keep himself to s rhythmic head bop or casual shoulder wiggle when he was at the Hard Deck with his buddy's. But when it came to Y/N, he became a mess of crazy, stupid dance moves that he did for her, did only to make her laugh harder. His hips swayed side to side as he made a complete mess of the wall, flicking paint onto it with dramatic flourishes and sweeping his arms across to create wild shapes that resembled ink blots.

"You're just going to watch me, missy? Or are you going to join me?" he asked, holding his hand out, palm up for her to grab on to. When she did, he took the paintbrush from her hand and placed it with his on the tray by his foot, allowing all of their hands to be free and free to move as they pleased. Y/N grabbed onto his shoulder to steady herself against his swaying body and placed her hand over the top of his, their bodies pressed together tightly as they danced like they were in a sappy high school rom com. The Frankie Valli tune accompanying them was the icing on the cliche cake.

Bob laughed and began to hum along to the song, his voice low and quiet as he sang it. Their embrace started off as silly, awkward and even clumsy. But soon it evolved into something much more intimate and slow paced. Soon they were both dancing close enough together to feel the other's heartbeats and the heat radiating between them.

"You're so warm," Y/N stated, completely relaxed as she placed her cheek against his shoulder. "And soft." The words were spoken barely above a whisper, but they lingered in his ear, stirring something within his chest and making his breathing falter. He stopped swaying suddenly and stared straight ahead at the paint on the wall, not daring to turn and look at her, yet his grip tightened on her, though, as he pulled her tighter into his chest.

They continued to hold each other long past the ending of the song, for what seemed like an eternity. Just enjoying each other's presence without saying a word and not wanting to break the serene atmosphere surrounding them.

Eventually, he blurted out, "My next mission is in two weeks. I got the call yesterday."

"How long?"

"Five and a half months."

She didn't respond immediately, but reared back slowly to study him for any reaction. She could tell instantly that he was nervous, well, because he always was. His fingers were twitching where they rested on her waist. "You better come back to me in one piece." Her tone was gentle as she reached up to cradle his face in her palms, stroking his cheeks with her thumb gently. "One big, dorky, loveable piece. You hear?"

The seriousness in her voice made him pause and swallow hard as he struggled for the words. Words that would make her understand how much that meant to him and how badly he wanted to come home to her, but only managed to say, "I will... I promise," instead.

And, as a final bit of affection, she stood on her tippy toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before turning back towards the paint to carry on with their task, leaving a dumbstruck Bob behind her. He took a second to compose himself before he picked up the paintbrush with a sigh, knowing for a fact he'd do everything in his power to make sure no slip ups happened during the mission.

However, some things cannot be controlled. A bird strike was never something Bob could've ever planned. Luckily, he and Phoenix survived, but neither of them got away without a litany of deep purple bruises that didn't fade before they were allowed to go back home. The second she saw Bob's car pull up on her drive in the later hours of the evening, she threw open the front door and exclaimed, "Get in here, you dork!"

He chuckled under his breath while making his way to her and wrapping her up in a tight hug which she returned instantly, almost squeezing the life out of him. His ejection bruises were still tender so he couldn't help but wince and she noticed. Of course she noticed.

"Jacket off."

When he hesitated, Y/N unzipped the front of his jacket and slid it down his arms until it hit the floor. They were over his arms and, judging how one peaked out from the neckline of his shirt, she assumed they were across his chest too. "Rest on the sofa while I run you a bath," she instructed, already pulling away from him and starting toward her bathroom. He followed after her, trying and failing to hide the pout forming on his lips.

"Y/N, I'm fine. I really am fine, okay?" Bob called to her, stopping her dead in her tracks. "It doesn't hurt anymore. You don't need to take care of me."

All she said was, "I want to take care of you," and, boy, did that make him feel like sobbing right then and there.

Giddiness. There it was. As clear as day. And if anything, it was stronger than ever. It was like someone had pumped helium into his veins and he felt lightheaded and giddy and so full and so… happy. He was grinning like an idiot and he knew it. "Yeah, uh yeah, some relaxing does sound really good right now," he replied, trying and failing to sound normal and cool.

"Bobby, sit down. Take off your shoes."

She was smiling, her dimples showing, and God, he loved those dimples so much. They always made him melt inside and think that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be all bad to spend every waking moment for the rest of his life with Y/N and have that smile directed at him.

"Yes ma'am." And with a mock salute, he kicked his shoes off and dropped onto the sofa. A new sofa that he'd never seen before. "Where's the gross couch?"

From inside the bathroom, Y/N snorted. "Sold it on Craigslist. Bought another one then found one of those stretchy cover things on Amazon because I only shop at the most indie and reputable companies on the globe," she joked as she leant down to turn the tap on.

"Ah, Bezos thanks you."

He stretched out his legs as best he could with aching muscles, a groan escaping as the tension drained from his body. He let his eyes wander around his surroundings, taking in all the furniture and paintings, the windowsills overflowing with random knick knacks Y/N had bought from thrift stores or stuff she'd hoarded over the years, and plants growing everywhere. "You've got this place looking nice. Very green and bright and all," he commented casually, looking all around. Hell, he'd lived in his apartment for years and it never looked this good. It was so different. So peaceful. So homey. He loved it.

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

"You really like it?" Her voice sounded a little hesitant as she leaned against the doorway of her bathroom, waiting for his reply. But Bob was too busy admiring her home to notice she was standing there, completely beaming at how he looked in the lamplight.

Often when he left, she forgot how broad he was, how tall, how muscular, how handsome he was. Something about how gentle and soft spoken made her forget everything he could possibly be capable of being a sexy, nerdy, muscly man. Because he was all of those things - and more.

"I love it," he replied, nodding. "Makes me want to force you to let me move in."

"Well, I won't say no to that."

One second he looked up and she was by the door, the next she'd slipped inside to add a bath bomb and light some candles to guarantee he was going to he as zen as possible. And then a few moments after that, she emerged and dragged him by the hand towards the bathroom. "Use anything you want. Towels are here. And what would you prefer, a reheated stuffed pepper or something more of the delivered variety?"

"You don't-"

"Robert."

"Right. You want to." She raised her eyebrow, urging him to make his mind up. "The pepper please."

"I'm glad I'm finally getting through to you," she teased lightly, before leaving him to his bath. His eyes stayed glued to the door until she disappeared from sight, the sounds of he'd humming heard through the walls. He smiled and shook his head; it hadn't escaped his attention how comfortable and domestic the whole situation was between them.

This? This he was absolutely loving. It was crazy. Crazy ridiculous. He had thought people had lied about the whole butterflies in your tummy thing, but now he understood. Now, he knew exactly what it felt like. He could feel it whenever she looked at him, when her touch sent shivers running down his spine; he was hooked. Like a drug addict hooked on the sweet feeling of happiness that came with being close to her.

Wrapped in only a towel, Bob opened the door and padded barefoot out to join her in the kitchen, sitting up on the counter as she scrolled through Instagram and metaphorically had to pick her jaw off the floor when her eyes drifted up to catch sight of him. His hair was dripping droplets of water all over her hardwood floor, his body glistening in the light coming from the kitchen.

The sight almost took her breath away but she quickly snapped herself back into reality by the time he'd given her a sheepish smile. "Do you still have the extra clothes I left here?" He asked, pointing vaguely in the direction of where he'd stashed them last time he visited.

"If I lie and say no, will you walk around like this forever?" she blurted out without thinking, earning a scoff from him in response.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because you're hot, Bobby. Fuck, that -" She gestured in the general direction of his abs. "That is a romance novel worthy."

To say his cheeks were red was an understatement. He looked away from her, not wanting her to see the blush spreading all up to his ears, even though his chest told her how much that compliment had affected him. But then she laughed. It started small, like she wanted to suppress it but couldn't control herself, which only resulted in both of them letting free the giggles and laughter flowing throughout the kitchen.

At some point, he got closer and held onto the counter on either side of her, leaning down to rest his forehead against her shoulder as they tittered away together. Eventually, they pulled away from each other, breathing a bit heavy and trying to calm themselves.

"This might sound weird - and if it makes you uncomfortable, please say - can I touch your abs?" she suddenly asked, her gaze locked with his, her words almost shy and cautious. He nodded eagerly in response, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I've always wondered what abs feel like."

Without further ado, Y/N gently reached forward, her hands skimming along his stomach and languidly tracing the dips and valleys with her fingertips, eliciting a soft moan from his mouth. "Is this alright?" she whispered, looking at him, searching his expression for any kind of discomfort.

"It feels nice," he murmured with half lidded eyes and a soft smile gracing his lips. Her fingers continued their exploration, her touch gentle and unknowingly teasing as she was as delicate as possible due to his bruising. Bob closed his eyes, enjoying every single second and revelling in his current state of undress with Y/N. It wasn't often that he got to experience something as simple and innocent as her touching him in such a tender manner.

Her fingers trailed upwards towards his pecs, then over his shoulder so she could wrap her arms around them and give him a hug. As she slid off the counter, she confessed, "I missed you, Bobby," and rested her cheek against his warm skin, her nose brushing against the exposed flesh of his neck.

"We facetimed every day."

"Still missed you."

"I missed you more." He wrapped his strong arms around her waist, squeezing tightly.

A few minutes went by. Maybe longer. Or maybe shorter, depending on how you looked at it. Time meant nothing now. All that mattered was them, right here, right now. The warmth of Y/N pressed against him, the scent of her coconut shampoo in his hair, the feeling of her hand stroking up and down his back in slow, soothing motions. And he just let himself get lost in the giddiness. In that perfect moment, when all he could hear were her quiet mumblings and feel her soft skin, it felt like nothing else existed except for the two of them. Just them. Their little bubble, surrounded by the complete mess of her half renovated kitchen with its mismatched chairs and cabinets and appliances that didn't match at all.

Hugging a mostly naked Bob was not something Y/N expected to happen when she woke up that morning, but somehow here she was, holding him and resting against his bare chest whilst his hand was firmly resting on her hip. It felt natural and familiar. Not at all awkward or out of the blue like it probably should have.

"Sorry, I'll get your bag now." She reluctantly stepped away from him, her heart thudding loudly at the loss of contact. Still, she joked, "I'm surprised your towel hasn't fallen yet."

"I used one of those hair clip things to keep it in place."

"You're a genius. So smart." She winked at him while making her way towards her bedroom where his backpack sat on the corner of her room. In no time, she'd returned and held it out to him. "If you're looking for your hoodie, I may have worn it when it got particularly cold in the night and washed it. Now it smells like my detergent."

Now, Y/N did have hoodies of her own. Yet, something about men's clothing is way more comfortable. Well, that's the reason she claimed in her head. But in reality? She didn't lie when she admitted to missing Bob and his clothes smelt like he was still next to her.

"You wore my clothes?" He looked a little stunned, blinking slowly in disbelief and amusement as she nodded. He smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly before reaching out to take the bag from her grip and began searching through it.

Once he found the neatly folded hoodie in question, he held it out to her. "If you get cold tonight," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on hers. "Don't argue with me, just take it."

As soon as it was in her hands, he dipped back into the bathroom to dress. As he dressed, he found it difficult to contain his grin, especially when his thoughts kept forcing him to imagine her in his jumper, the sleeves slipping down over her fingers and the hood falling in front of her eyes because it was so big on her frame. Imagining was one thing, seeing her like that was another. When he returned to the kitchen, she had slipped it on and was in the process of reheating his food.

"Apparently Cassiopeia can be seen very clearly tonight, can we have a look?" She asked as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

Bob wanted to speak. He wanted to say, "Yeah, would love to. That sounds great, darlin'." But, he couldn't find the courage to. He was rendered speechless. Instead, he just gave her a nod as a reply, his mind buzzing with thoughts of her and the beautiful picture she presented before him. She looked absolutely stunning with his grey hoodie hanging loosely from her shoulders and her hair framing her face perfectly. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to not lean across the kitchen island and capture her lips in a kiss.

When she sat down next to him, a smile still lingering on his face, it was evident that she had caught his reaction. "Something on your mind?" She asked.

"No," he answered hastily, trying to shake off any remnants of her spell. She studied his face for a long moment, waiting until he met her stare. And when he finally did, she gave him a soft, comforting smile. "What the heck is Cassiopeia?"

"A constellation." She let out a chuckle. "I thought a man of the sky, such as yourself, would have known that."

"Robert Floyd, man of the sky. I like that," he teased with a slight chuckle, causing her to laugh again.

Then it was onto star gazing. Y/N found the Big Dipper then the North star then, bang, Cassiopeia the Queen. To aid Bob, she tilted his chin and pointed it out for him to see. "Right there. See that W shape?"

He watched intently, trying hard to focus despite his distracted mind. Then she said, "This one?" and pointed at the Big Dipper with a flourish.

"Not quite."

She gently placed her hand on his wrist to point it in the correct direction and he let her do it without complaint. His eyes remained focused on her hand on his wrist, the gentle pressure sending electricity up his arm and into his brain, making him lightheaded for a few moments. "See it now?" She was watching him carefully, her eyes sparkling with amusement as he moved his gaze back to the stars.

After he regained some of his composure, he replied softly, "Yeah." The stars were particularly clear that day. "What's the story behind it?"

"Do you want the long or short version?"

"Long version."

Chuckling, she began the tale. "Good ol' Cas was once the Queen of Ethiopia and she was a vain lady. The god Poseidon heard that she was running her mouth about her daughter, Andromeda - she's there -" She tilted his head again, just as she would after mentioning the name of each constellation that came up and traced the shape in the air to help him out. "The queen claimed that her daughter was more beautiful than the Nereids and Poseidon wasn't happy about that."

Nerding out was one of Bob's favourite things to do, especially when the other person was clearly very knowledgeable and passionate about the topic they were discussing - that's how he got along so well with Mickey and his Star Trek word vomit when they had to share a bunk. Y/N's voice grew even softer as she continued the tale, her eyes glistening brightly as she spoke.

"To punish her, Poseidon sent a monster called Cetus - he's over there just under Pisces - to destroy the kingdom of her husband, King Cepheus - and he's over here." She pointed to the splattering of stars right beside Cassiopeia. "They're right beside each other for eternity, which is sweet."

A breeze blew past and Bob had to admit, he was feeling a little chilly. So, due to the age-old comfort between them, he decided that pulling her closer to him 'for warmth and only for warmth' and sticking his hands in the hoodie pocket, was reasonable. It was. It was beyond reasonable.

"Want me to give your hoodie back?"

"No. Continue with the story."

Chuckling quietly under her breath, she leaned back into him and proceeded with her story. "In order to appease Poseidon, the King and Queen had to sacrifice Andromeda. They chained her to a rock and left her out for the monster to devour her."

"And I used to get annoyed at my mama for leaving my bedroom door open," Bob joked, earning a hearty laugh from her. It was weird, Bob never spoke of his mother much nowadays.

After she died, it seemed too much like opening a wound he wasn't sure if he could ever fully close again. This was progress.

"Luckily for Andromeda, the hero Perseus -"

"Where's he?"

"To the left of Andromeda."

This time she hadn't guided his gaze, so he did an exaggerated squint to imply that he needed some help. She obliged with an almost shy smile.

"Perseus rescued her before she could be stuffed down the monster's gullet with his fancy-schmancy sword. He'd just slain Medusa, you see, and happened to be riding by on his pegasus. Just one look, that's all it took, and he was in love." She giggled, her cheeks tinged a slight pink colour. "Their wedding wasn't the most traditional one out there as one of Andromeda's old suitors - who was her uncle - arrived and tried to start a fight, but Percy used Medusa's head to turn him to stone."

Bob couldn't help but ask, "Like in that Percy Jackson movie?"

"Where'd you think Rick Riordan got his stories from?"

He rested his chin atop her shoulder and grinned to himself. "How does it end?"

"Cassiopeia was punished. Poseidon chained her to her throne and cast her into the heavens, but to be cruel he positioned her upside-down down so she'd have to run the risk of falling out of the sky for as long as there is a sky."

"And Andromeda?"

"She lived happily ever after with her husband."

It was quiet for a while after she finished speaking, both of them staring into space, lost in their own worlds. Well, Y/N was busy looking at the stars. Bob kept his eyes trained on her, unable to stop himself from smiling at the way her hair swayed slightly whenever the wind blew, and her eyes shone with wonderment whenever she gazed up at them.

"Would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Hmm...?"

"A happily ever after," Bob clarified with a shrug, suddenly feeling rather stupid for saying it like that. In his mind, he was being so obvious. Still, he wasn't quite ready to admit how he felt yet; so, he went on, "With, uh, someone, anyone who'll have me."

Her attention immediately snapped from the sky and she turned to face him, her eyebrows rising at his choice of words. "Anyone? Bobby, a man like you should have standards. You don't just go around throwing your hat into the ring and hoping for the best, do you?" She teased.

Oh boy. That sounded like something his Mama would have said to him, though it didn't sound nearly as patronising coming from Y/N's mouth. Not to mention, that last part sounded a lot more sassy than what his Mama would have said. It was a dangerous game, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Oh, I stopped throwing my hat into the ring years ago."

"Your love life that bad?"

"All I do is work and hang out with you."

Oh.

Just then, another cold gust of wind hit them and she shivered, curling into his side to try and shield him from its icy touch. "Shit! You must be freezing! Let's go back inside," Y/N announced as she interlinked her fingers into his and pulled him inside before they caught pneumonia. "Sit! Sit! I'll go and get my blanket so we can regain our body heat. Can't have you catching something!"

Yeah, he could definitely imagine having a happily ever after with her. Hell, she already made it impossible for him to forget how he felt, how warm she always felt to him. But, he shook those thoughts from his head and allowed her to pull him towards the couch before she rushed up to her room, returning less than a minute later with her arms full of the thick fleece blanket she used to wrap up in during winter.

Snuggled together as soon as she sat down, she draped the blanket over them, keeping them both cocooned in its soft embrace. Y/N rested her head against Bob's chest, listening to his heart beat, his chest moving up and down slowly and rhythmically beneath her cheek. He smelled good, she realised, like freshly washed linen, soap, sandalwood and mint.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you feeling okay?"

Other than the bruises, nothing else was wrong.

"I'm fine. Why?"

"Your heart is beating really fast."

"Oh, that always happens when I'm around you."

Shit. Her eyes widened at the admission as she lifted her head slightly to look at his face. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted in embarrassment as he realised what he'd admitted, and he refused to meet her eyes. She could see the tip of his ears burning red and she chuckled, her smile growing bigger by the second as it finally dawned on her.

It was difficult to form coherent words when his brain was malfunctioning. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't find the right words, not when she looked at him like that so his hand came to cradle her cheek, tenderly brushing away some stray hairs that had fallen across her face. He brushed the strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on the skin there and he watched the way her features softened at his touch.

Slowly and so very carefully, as if scared that he might break, he leaned forward and captured her lips in his. The kiss was chaste, gentle and innocent, but it still had a certain electricity buzzing through their bodies that caused sparks to fly wherever their mouths touched. He moved his hand downwards to rest on the side of her neck, tilting her chin with his thumb to deepen the kiss.

When they separated, the kiss still lingering, they stared into each other's eyes for several moments in comfortable silence before bursting out laughing at the same time. Neither of them were exactly sure where the laughter started or ended, or even how they got there, but they couldn't care less either.

Now that it was out in the open, both of them felt relief rush through their veins. It felt like an enormous weight off their chests had been lifted. Not physically as Y/N was guided onto Bob's lap, her knees placed either side of his waist, and happily buried her face in the crook of his neck. His arms encircled her frame tightly, holding her impossibly closer to him. The butterflies in his stomach stirred once more, but this time they were different - it felt more... right somehow? As if he was meant to hold her. "We should do that more often," Bob suggested, his words a little muffled since his lips were pressed firmly against the top of her head.

Y/N gave a small hum in agreement, burying her nose further into the hollow between his collarbone and shoulder, savouring his unique scent, while running a finger along his arm absentmindedly. She could feel the tension in his muscles disappear instantly, replaced by a sort of content sigh.

"Darlin'?"

"Yes, Bobby?"

With her temple against his shoulder, she looked up at him questioningly, wondering what his next words would be about. Bob smiled down at her, gently tracing her jawline with his finger. His lips barely grazing hers as he pleaded, "One more kiss?" He paused. "Please?"

"Just one?"

"Well, I don't want to push my luck."

"You're such a dork."

She laughed quietly at his reply before closing the gap between them again, attempting to press her lips to his in a sweet quick peck. Bob had other ideas. With a firm grasp on her waist and the other tangled in the hair at the nape of her head, he dipped her down until her back hit the couch cushion. Before she knew it, he was on top of her, leaning in for a deeper kiss. They remained locked together for a few seconds until she broke apart, her lips hovering below his as she whispered softly, "I feel lightheaded."

"Good thing you're lying down," he joked, pulling her flush to him and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. After that, he continued peppering kisses along her jaw, trailing his kisses down until he reached the soft spot at the base of her throat. When he pulled away, Y/N let out a small whine. Bob smirked against the soft skin there before asking, "That enough?"

"More," Y/N pouted. A smirk crept upon his face and without missing a beat, he leant in again for another, then another, then another. He couldn't seem to help himself, the urge to be in close proximity with her overwhelming and leaving no room for thought. Plus, she wasn't complaining.

No matter how many times he kissed her, she never seemed to tire of it. Every time he was within inches of her, she seemed to unconsciously lean towards him. Whether it was subconscious or deliberate, she couldn't say, but she didn't particularly care. At all. In fact, she loved every moment of it. And, judging from the way her hands ran lazily along his back, she was loving it too.

"I don't want to stop but I am about to knock out," he mumbled in between kisses, trying to pull away from her as subtly as possible, though of course he didn't really succeed in doing anything. "Came straight here from the airport. Didn't sleep a wink on the flight."

His attempt at escape only lasted two seconds before he kissed her again. He was powerless to do anything but succumb to the temptation of her soft lips pressed against his, and as the taste of her lingered on his tongue, he became weak. If this was heaven then, Bob wouldn't mind dying. He wasn't religious anymore, but just knowing he was with her and that everything would be alright because of his decision, it was enough to make him believe in some sort of good out there.

"Can't stop: you're too pretty. Like a goddess in disguise. I'm sure you'd beat those.... those - dang, what were they called? Nerd-oids? Nerrr... Poseidon people."

"Nereids."

"You'd beat the Nereids in a pageant any day."

A giggle bubbled up from inside her chest. "I think you just doomed me to be chained to a rock and fed to a horrifying sea monster," she muttered, trying to contain her giggles.

Bob pulled back a fraction so he could stare her straight in the eyes, the corners of his mouth curled upwards as his eyes twinkled mischievously. "I'd save you in a heartbeat." He planted a few soft pecks all over her face, ending with placing a soft, yet lingering kiss on her lips. "But," he added, kissing the tip of her nose, "I'm not sure if a plane is as cool as a flying pony and my sword skills are limited to that time I dressed up as King Arthur in my fifth grade school play."

That was unexpected information. Yet, she knew he wasn't exaggerating about how tired he was because information about his life always fell from his lips whenever he was lacking sleep. His eyelids were drooping heavily, threatening to fall shut at any given second as he let out a big yawn.

"Let's go to bed, Perseus."

"Lead the way, Andromeda."

He allowed her to guide him upstairs, her hand tucked securely in his. They climbed the stairs in relative silence, the sounds of the distant waves and wind in the trees providing a soothing backdrop to their quiet night. By the time they reached the door, he yawned again and she laughed at his adorable antics.

Life was perfect as they continued to revel in the comfort of their new relationship. Well, except there was this one thing - they hadn't been intimate yet. It was two months in and nothing of that sort had happened. It's not as if Y/N had never tried to initiate sex, but Bob always changed the subject or stopped them before they'd even started.

Still, that didn't stop them from being a happy couple.

"Baby, are you ready yet?" His voice rang clear throughout the house as he checked his watch.

Their friend Kenny was having his birthday gathering at a fancy bar and Y/N had taken it as her opportunity to dress up really nice to persuade Bob to finally do something about the sexual tension between them.

"Two minutes."

"You said two minutes five minutes ago."

Y/N rolled her eyes and finished applying her lipstick and brushed her hair with her fingers before looking in the mirror. Yep, Bob was going to be drooling over her in 3...2...1... "Holy fuck!"

Her eyes went wide as she watched Bob's jaw drop at the sight of her. He stood frozen in place, staring at her as her heels clicked against each stair she walked down. His eyes trailed from her legs up her torso to her face. He shook his head slowly, unable to speak as he brought a hand up to brush back some of his hair back from his face. She didn't know whether to laugh, coo, or cry at the adorableness radiating from his face; he was swooning. "Do I look okay?" She asked, tugging at her dress nervously.

"Y/N..." He trailed off, his hands clutching at her hips tightly, as if afraid she would disappear. "You look absolutely beautiful. Gorgeous, actually," he corrected himself quickly and let out a low whistle as he gazed upon her, his eyes roaming across every inch of her body, taking in every feature.

The dress fit her perfectly, emphasising her curves perfectly and accentuating her natural figure. It was simple yet elegant, classy in that old fashioned, off the shoulder movie star way. She had styled her hair into a low bun, with long, flowing strands framing both sides of her face like an angelic halo. Her makeup was flawless and her jewellery sparkled brightly. She felt incredibly beautiful just standing there and completely captivating him.

Then, all of a sudden, she was yanked into a hungry smooch, causing her to squeak in surprise. His hands slipped around to rest on either side of her body, keeping her firmly trapped against him as he took advantage of her gasp. She placed a hand against his chest, trying to get some space between them, but he held fast, refusing to let her go.

"Bobby, we have to go."

"Two minutes."

More than two minutes passed by as he continued kissing her. She eventually had to push him a little to get a chance to disconnect herself from him. As soon as she did, however, Bob immediately grabbed hold of her waist once more and pulled her right back onto him. It was impossible to resist, but she had to.

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

"You have lipstick all over your mouth," Y/N teased as she pulled out a tissue from her bag and wiped it away while Bob gave her a devilish grin. She chuckled, shaking her head, her eyes glancing back up at his briefly returning to the job at hand. "Seriously though. We should go. You know, for Kenny's party," she reminded him.

Bob groaned loudly like a grumpy teenage boy, his expression falling slightly. It was obvious that wasn't what he wanted anymore. She knew that he would be begging to leave early.

Kenny was surprised that Robert Floyd, the man that was an hour early to the first frat party he went to and waited on the porch until other people arrived to go inside, was late. Then he saw the tiny unwiped smudge of Y/N's lipstick in the corner of his lip and knew exactly why Bob had been twenty minutes late. "So, are you guys officially together now?" Kenny asked when Bob entered the room and sat down next to him. His friend nodded, letting out a dreamy sigh.

"Yeah, we are."

"Finally!" Kenny cheered, throwing an arm around Bob's shoulders, effectively knocking him off his chair as he laughed loudly. "And you, Missy: you look gorgeous tonight! So hot, I almost can't stand it!"

The birthday boy clearly had already started the fun before he even got to the bar. Kenny was nursing some exciting looking cocktail that had a sparkler and multiple mini umbrellas in it. "You wanna know what was the first thing he said when he saw you? Rob pointed, did that thing - you know, that innocent farm loverboy look - and whispered to me, and I quote, 'that is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen'," Kenny slurred slightly, laughing loudly as he mimicked Bob's tone of voice. "I thought he was pointing to the poster of Megan Fox that was right beside your head and agreed with him."

Looking up at him (admittedly, she didn't have to crane her neck as high as usual due to her heels), Y/N found the sight of Bob's blushing cheeks an amusing sight to behold. Bob coughed, attempting to recover, but any doubt that the story was the ramblings of a drunk man was squashed by his reaction. "Why'd you never let this story slip?"

"Didn't want you to think I only became your friend because I think you're pretty," Bob shrugged sheepishly. It always astounded her how his confidence was zapped out of him whenever he was in public.

Soon, Y/N was pulled away to talk to the girls who all wanted to know where the hell that dress came from, and Y/N was willing to fill them in. From across the bar, Bob was being teased by all his friends, which was usual.

"Look at you! You're totally whipped."

"You say that as if it's a new thing. He's had a crush on Y/N for years."

"Remember that time Y/N got super drunk and Rob carried her all the way to her dorm at three am."

"That's not even the whole story. They stopped off a McDonald's on the way and he bought her the twenty nuggets, but he ended up eating them all when he slept on her floor -"

"I slept next to her," Bob interjected, a hint of smugness in his voice. "She sobered up by the time we got into her room and didn't want to sleep alone."

Memories of their college days kept being brought up as the group chatted amongst themselves, making jokes and laughing along with each other. Eventually, the two groups merged into one large group who all made sure Bob was forced out onto the dance floor.

And as always, it took no time for Y/N to coax him into her arms to move to the music, swaying her hips to the beat that was more fast paced than the songs the couple were used to dancing to. He grinned, allowing himself to be dragged across the dance floor, enjoying every second that he spent with his girlfriend in his grip.

Though, the mix of how hot she looked and the way her body was moving against his, it was hard for Bob to pay attention to anyone else. Y/N's back was flush to his chest as she danced against him, occasionally tilting her head up to smile at him. Every touch, every kiss sent waves of euphoria through his body and he couldn't keep the dopey grin off his face as he gazed down at her.

Bob had dressed up too, but, at this point, his once perfect tie had been loosened and his collar unbuttoned. His clothes consisted of a button up shirt that had once been tucked into his pants, his sleeves pushed up as far as they could go, showing off his muscled forearms and biceps. A pair of dark wash jeans hugged his thighs snugly and his sneakers, which still fit perfectly, shone under the lights as he swayed side to side to the rhythm of the song.

"Bobby, baby, you look so sexy right now," Y/N giggled as she pressed her lips against his cheek, causing him to chuckle loudly and shake his head as his eyes fluttered closed and his lips twitched into a small smile.

"Can we leave now?"

"No! Not yet."

He whined childishly, pulling her closer towards him. He rested his forehead against her shoulder, burying his nose into her neck as he breathed in deeply, enjoying how intoxicating the scent of her perfume was.

"Shots! Guys I've got everyone a shot and you have to take it because it's my birthday," Kenny exclaimed, causing Y/N and Bob to silently agree to slip away for a second to ensure they didn't have to do it. Bob had never been a huge fan of booze and Y/N wanted to make sure she was completely sober when they got home.

They snuck into a quiet corner. Bob sat on a bar stool and tugged Y/N by the waist so he was eye level to her chest. "Please can we go?" He pouted, giving her the puppy dog eyes and the most pitiful look he could possibly manage to give.

Y/N chuckled quietly, shaking her head fondly at his cute behaviour. She leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on his shoulders as she ran her fingers through his hair. "I know you're not a big fan of parties, why don't we stay for Kenny's horrible attempt at karaoke? Then, I promise, after that we can go. Sound good?"

"Sounds good."

As they presumed, Kenny's singing was horrible. But they listened to it anyway, cheering him on from the crowd, clapping their hands enthusiastically and smiling widely at his terrible performance. When he finally left the stage, the pair said their farewells and headed home.

The drive home was relatively quiet in the beginning. Bob was trying to focus on the road and not how Y/N's dress had slid up her thigh just slightly. It was too much. His hand languidly roamed up her thigh, his thumb rubbing softly against her skin. "Can I tell you something? Please promise you won't freak out?"

"I promise, Bobby."

Here goes nothing. "I'm so hard right now. Like really hard."

"Why would I freak out about my boyfriend and his erection?" Y/N asked innocently with a grin, her eyebrow raising teasingly. To go even further, she slowly slid his hand against her underwear. "Why would I mind when I'm as wet as I am? Feel it?"

His breath hitched, causing his lips to part and his hand retreat back to the steering wheel while his brain short circuited. The heat between the both of them caused Bob to become dizzier by the minute. "Uh, yeah," he managed to stutter, barely able to get the words out and trying desperately to concentrate on the road ahead of him. "I- I can feel it."

"Don't you want to do something about how wet I am, baby?" Her voice was husky and thick with need as she reached over and ran her hand slowly up his thigh again. His throat felt drier than the Sahara desert.

"I do... Trust me, I really do. I don't want to disappoint you." Bob smiled sadly down at the steering wheel. As much as he wanted to spend the night making love to his girlfriend, he couldn't risk messing up and losing her interest. "An old girlfriend told me I'm not, uh, I'm not good at... that I got too deep in my head and neither of us could enjoy it... Y/N, I want you to enjoy it but I don't know how and-"

Shit. She'd intended to turn him on, not turn him into a nervous mess. Her hand came up to soothingly caress the nape of his neck, calming his frantic rambling. "Breathe for me, sweetheart. Take a few deep breaths," she whispered calmly, gently running her nails across the skin. She continued soothing the area until he stopped mumbling and breathing heavily. "It's okay, baby. We'll wait until we get home, talk about everything and, if you want, I can take the lead until you become comfortable. Does that sound like a good plan?"

Never in a million years did he expect to get so turned on, but here he was, shifting uncomfortably in his seat with his mouth wide open in surprise. "Yes! I mean, yeah...yeah, that sounds fine. Okay, yes. Yes please," he quickly responded, unable to stop the smile from creeping onto his face.

Y/N giggled before placing a small kiss on his cheek and settling back into her seat, staring outside the window as the car began its journey back home. Bob stayed silent throughout the ride, his mind running wild as thoughts raced around inside of it. This kind of excitement and passion felt almost foreign, yet at the same time very familiar. It had been there, lurking underneath the surface for months.

Once they parked up on her drive, Bob was quick out of his door to help her out of her side like a true gentleman should, earning an amused grin from her in return. He was quick to hang his jacket up and kick off his shoes as he looked up at her with eager eyes when they got inside. Without her even asking him to, he knelt before her and gently placed her foot on his thigh so he could undo the straps of her heels before sliding off them.

"You're so good to me, baby," she cooed as his gaze flickered back up to hers, a shy smile playing on his lips. Her fingers traced his jawline as she gestured for him to stand upright, and as soon as he pulled himself up from the floor, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Thank you for understanding." His cheeks were pink as he nuzzled his face against her shoulder, his heart pounding wildly within his chest. Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as his lips attached themselves to her skin.

After a moment, Bob pulled back slightly to press a long, lingering kiss against her soft lips, his eyes closing tightly as he relished the feeling. Once the kiss ended, he took one last lingering glance downwards before looking her straight in the eyes. "Do you..." Bob started hesitantly, biting down lightly on his lower lip. "Would you like to try tonight?"

"It has been forever since I've gotten laid so I'm going to say yes," she replied, her tone playful as she grabbed his tie and seductively pulled him up to her room, dragging him behind her excitedly.

For once, he might actually enjoy sex.

"Unzip me, baby," she ordered, her tone still somewhat soft. Bob obliged, unzipping her dress swiftly and slipping it off of her, leaving her standing only in panties, her skin glistening in the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through her blinds. "Like it? I picked this bra just for you."

A satisfied grin curled upon her lipstick lips as she watched Bob stare hungrily at her body, the lust burning in his gaze. She loved knowing that she drove him crazy, but seeing him like this made her heart flutter and her stomach tighten in anticipation. "Do you want to touch?" She inquired as she walked towards him slowly, trailing kisses along the sides of his neck and up towards his jaw. She found his hands and slid them up her sides until both were firmly groping at her breasts, kneading and massaging them as she let out moans of pleasure. "Bobby, take my bra off for me."

Instantly, he nodded, his pupils dilated and his breathing uneven as he undid the clasp of her bra, slowly letting the material slide down her body until it landed around her feet, exposing her beautiful bare breasts to him and allowing his lips to drop to one, taking a nipple between his teeth before tugging at it gently.

At first Y/N was lost in bliss, her hand on the back of his head to encourage him to continue with his ministrations. But then she became aware and tugged on his hair. His attention immediately snapped up towards her as he looked at her curiously. "Did I say you could do that?"

"Um, I didn't think-"

"You don't have to think." Her fingers deftly slipped beneath the front of his trousers and tugged at his belt, pulling it free and tossing it carelessly aside. She stared up at him with a devilish grin, her eyes twinkling as she unzipped his jeans and let them fall around his ankles. "Go sit down on the bed, sweetheart."

Bob complied without complaint, plopping down on her bed and waiting patiently for her to kneel between his legs. He watched entranced as she tenderly placed a kiss on each knee cap before leaning up to pull him down by his tie, connecting their lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue explored her mouth greedily and she allowed him access without hesitation, parting her lips ever so slightly as their tongues moved in perfect sync, creating a sensation unlike anything he had ever known before in her life.

Her hands slipped underneath his shirt, her fingers brushing the skin of his chest and abs in the way she knew he liked. Bob groaned as she trailed her fingernails down his abs, leaving hot, red marks in the process which caused his stomach to knot. "Can I touch you?" She asked hoarsely, kissing his cheek. "Would you like me to?"

"Yeah," he breathed out in response.

Y/N kissed up his neck and nibbled his earlobe affectionately as she slipped her hand into his underwear. He whimpered under his breath as she began stroking him, the warmth she left sending shivers racing down his spine and the feeling of ecstasy shooting through his entire system instantly. The sound of his moan only seemed to spur on Y/N as she began moving faster and faster, making him gasp in surprise and delight.

He felt as though he were flying and every nerve ending felt alive as all the pent up emotions of frustration and confusion and worry that had built up inside of him melted away leaving nothing more than pure euphoria. All of his nerves went lax and his brain blanked out of all thought, he didn't need to focus on anything other than getting what he wanted.

"Good boy, baby," Y/N praised him as she kept pumping him relentlessly. "Do you feel good?"

"Yes... yes... oh god yes..." He then proceeded to mutter incoherent words that were soon drowned by moans as she continued stroking him vigorously while his orgasm built up.

Y/N smirked wickedly as she continued to tease him mercilessly, bringing him to the brink then slowing down. He whined lowly, begging her to go faster, his hips bucking as his whole body shook with intense pleasure. "Please...please, please, please, please, please… I, I need it. Darlin, I - Fuck! Please, baby."

"You sound so sweet when you beg." She gave him a teasing kiss on the lips, pulling away as soon as he tried to deepen it. "Not going to let you come yet."

A giggle escaped her mouth at the face he made as edged him, watching with amusement how he shook and tried to catch his breath after the intense rush. She leaned over him and pressed a gentle kiss onto his cheek to quell any frustration he had, smiling when he returned the gesture eagerly. He needed that contact to ground him in reality; the fact that he wasn't dreaming or imagining things; this was real and happening right now.

That need is why he allowed himself to suggest, "Sit on my face?"

"Bobby, are you sure?" she murmured in response, her fingers grazing along his jaw as she spoke, her eyes never leaving his own, searching them for any signs of uncertainty.

"I'm positive, baby." His voice came out strained and breathless, his entire body aching for her touch. "Please. I need it."

The look of adoration in his eye melted her insides to mush, leaving her completely speechless. For a moment, she forgot everything as she simply sat there staring at his gorgeous blue eyes. Her thumb ran circles across his cheek, caressing him gently.

"One hundred percent sure?"

"Absolutely."

Who was she to deny him? Ensuring that she had his consent and permission, she proceeded by slowly undoing his shirt and tie. "Can't ruin your fancy clothes, can we?"

"I could always buy more."

With a chuckle at how desperate he sounded, she reached up and pushed his glasses off of his face, setting them on the nightstand next to the bed. His eyes followed her movements, drinking in her appearance appreciatively as she kissed down his chest, teasing at the muscles of his abdomen before trailing her lips up to his cheek. She paused to give him one last soft peck on his lips, telling him, "Lie with your head hanging off the side of the bed."

Quickly, he scrambled to do as such, lying flat on his back as she stood up from the bed and stepped out of her underwear. A blush spread across his face as he glanced upwards at her body. He couldn't help it as his eyes roved over her naked flesh in appreciation, marvelling at how perfect she was. She was an angel and he wished there was a way he could spend every single day of his life worshipping her body like he did now.

Before she hovered her pussy over his mouth, she reassured, "Tap my thigh if you are suffocating." He did the motion to prove that he understood. "Ready?"

"Born ready, darlin."

So, with deliberate slowness, she lowered herself onto his face, keeping her feet on the ground so she could easily remove herself if he needed to breathe. When he took hold of her thighs, however, she knew for a fact that he was thoroughly enjoying himself, a low hum emitting from his throat every few seconds as he licked at her pussy. He moved his tongue around leisurely, teasing it against the folds as he sucked hard on her clit which prompted her to whimper and grind against his face.

Pleasure overtook her senses and she didn't want them to stop. But they had to. Only for a little bit because he had been making her feel good but had yet to give himself two seconds to make sure if he was okay. "Let's, oh fuck, let's take a second to breathe, baby."

"No!" He said quickly, pushing her legs further apart with his free hand and forcing himself deeper into her pussy.

"Lieutenant Floyd, you're going to suffocate."

Hearing her say that forced him to follow orders. "Good boy. Breathe for me, my pretty boy," she cooed, her thumb brushing against his bottom lip as she gazed lovingly down at him. "Kiss?"

"Want one."

It was rather sweet when Y/N had to fully sit on his chest and lean down to give him a kiss. She giggled and rested her hands on his shoulders, keeping herself balanced on top of him as she planted tiny kisses all over his face. "Mmm..." He moaned happily as he closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh, relishing every second of being surrounded by her warm, sensual scent.

Robert Floyd was pussy drunk. And, he wanted to get wasted.

"My break is over."

"Oh, is it?" Y/N teased with a smirk. His eyes were glazed over with lust, his chin slick with drool and her, his hair a mess as brought her knee closer to his face so he could kiss it repeatedly. He looked as if he was in heaven between her legs and she just loved to see him so happy. He pouted, grabbing a handful of her ass to tug her forward until she was flush with his face again.

Then he got back to it and began sucking hungrily on her clit, causing her to squeal in delight. She arched her back as he worked her with abandon, her nails scraping lightly against the skin of his shoulder, eliciting a loud moan from his throat.

"God, you taste so good!" It was a little muffled, but she knew what he had said. She chuckled, placing her hand into his hair to run her fingers through it as her hips thrust up against his face. He groaned once again, his hands roaming all over her body in search of new sensations to stimulate her pleasure more.

As the time went on, Bob grew bolder, licking and sucking on her clit with more force and teasing her nipples between his fingers. Y/N moaned loudly, throwing her head back as he continued working his magic on her. "Bobby," she whispered urgently when she found herself close. She needed release; she needed it badly. "You're doing so, uh, so fucking well I can't-" Her orgasm hit her suddenly, taking her completely by surprise and causing her to scream out.

He continued to eat her out greedily, his fingers digging deeply into her flesh as she threw her head back in ecstasy. After her body stopped twitching and her cries subsided, he continued to suck and lick her juices off of her thighs as he listened to her panting breaths.

"Are you okay?"

"So okay," Y/N chuckled, trying her hardest to pull herself together. She gave him a playful smile before moving to sit on the bed beside him, resting her head on his broad shoulder. "Did you enjoy yourself, baby?"

The answer was obvious by the goofy grin on his face and the glint in his eyes. "Mhm. So much." He sat up to wrap his arms securely around her waist, pressing her against him possessively as he nuzzled his face against hers and inhaled her scent. "So so so much."

Y/N laughed softly, wrapping her arms around him too as she pulled him in for a tender kiss. "Good." She smiled against his lips. "Cause we're not done yet."

His grin widened even further at her words, knowing exactly where she was heading. "Do you want me or you to take the reins for the next bit?" she inquired seductively, arching her eyebrow in challenge. His grin disappeared as quickly as it had appeared as his cock hardened rapidly beneath his boxers, a growl slipping past his lips at the thought of how good he was going to feel and the sounds she'd make doing so.

No hesitation. "You."

"Head against the pillows then. Let your eyes close."

Not needing another instruction, he complied immediately. He could barely wait for her to remove his boxer briefs, his eyes fluttering shut and his breathing increasing slightly. The warmth of her hands on his erection made his eyes snap open to find her already positioned in front of him, holding his length tightly in her hand.

As soon as he felt the tip of her hot pink tongue running down his length, his knees turned to jelly, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull and he released a deep groan of pleasure. "Oh God...you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'."

"Shh, relax. Relax and let yourself get taken care of."

"I won't last long. Just fuck me."

She couldn't help the giggle that slipped past her lips. "I will. Trust me, I'm just trying to rile you up before I ride your cock," she retorted teasingly before sinking her teeth lightly into his thigh, her lips lingering around the sensitive area to draw out a loud groan from him.

"I'm riled. I am thoroughly riled. I need you, please. Baby, please," he pleaded desperately, gripping her hair tightly as he brought their faces closer so that he could kiss her. She moaned in response as his tongue delved deep within her mouth and she felt herself being lifted into his waiting arms, his grip on her waist beginning a needy slew of grinds that were very persuasive.

Continuing her teasing would be cruel at this point, so Y/N gave in to the desire bubbling inside of her and his borderline pitiful whines. She slid the palm of her hands down his chest until they settled comfortably on his waist as she sat herself up. "Are you ready? Do you want me to make you feel good?"

She waited until he nodded to lower herself down on his cock, gasping at the stretch as she pushed down onto him slowly and watching him intently as he clenched his jaw tight. He was fighting to keep his eyes open to inspect every change on her face as she adjusted herself to the size of his dick.

"That's it! You're doing amazing," he encouraged breathlessly. Her head was tilted back, exposing her neck as she enjoyed the sensation of finally having his cock buried inside of her for the first time and it definitely was a task to take. "Just a little more. Good girl, don't stop now."

Letting out soft whimpers, Y/N finally took all of him into her body and started moving back and forth slowly, allowing his shaft to fill her up. Bob's fingers tangled themselves in the sheets as she did and he tried to fight back the urge to come already, but it was hard when he was feeling so damn good.

"I know you want to come, baby. Hold out just a little longer, " she coaxed, her tone gentle and low. As she increased the pace of her movement, she ran a finger down his abs, making him groan and buck up further into her. "Oh fuck, do that again."

So, as he did with all of her orders, he did as she said. With his grip tight enough to bruise her hips, he began fucking upwards into her pussy, driving her crazy as he'd managed to find a certain sensitive spot completely on accident. Every single thrust of his hips sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, each one sending a jolt of pure pleasure through her.

Judging by his whines, he was very close to the edge so she began to play with her clit to help her along, causing her to tighten her muscles around him and her to gasp loudly as her whole body shook violently. "Can I? Can I come now?" Bob gasped desperately, his cock throbbing in desperation and needing relief. "Oh fuck, you feel so good coming on my cock, so good that I'm going to, I'm going..."

"Let go, Bobby. You'll hurt yourself if you hold in any more. Come for me. Come for me baby, you know you want to. Yes, right there...come for me..." Y/N begged, loving the way his voice sounded and the sight of his handsome face contorted in ecstasy, sweat dripping down his brow, a vein pulsating in his neck as his eyes rolled back in his head, unable to control himself anymore.

In no time flat he came, releasing his load deep inside her with a broken cry of "I love you." Then he limply flopped back onto the mattress, still twitching inside her as his climax gradually faded away, leaving him exhausted and sweaty and sated. She giggled happily and crawled over top of him as his heart began to beat wildly in his chest, and she placed her warm lips against his neck before whispering sweet, sweet nothing in his ear.

"You did so well, baby boy. Look at you, you're all fucked out." She stroked his damp cheek gently before pulling away. He grabbed her arm before she could move towards the bathroom. "I was going to get a towel to clean us up."

"Let me."

Without wasting a single second that she would use to convince him to stay in bed, he climbed out and rushed into the bathroom. Yes, he really did profess his love while coming in her. No, that is not how he wanted it to happen. He wanted it to be romantic. He had it all planned out.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Can you forget what I said when I came?" He returned to her, staring at her as she focused on the ceiling and took some deep breaths only for her head to whip to him, a curious yet hurt expression on her face. "Because that was not planned."

They were silent as he ran a towel around her thighs, cleaning up any remnants of him from her skin and her from his. She didn't answer his question, choosing to remain quiet, her eyes fixated on the wall in front of her until he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently turning her face towards him so that she could meet his gaze directly.

"Would you like to hear my plan?" He brushed a lock of sweaty hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She swallowed thickly, her eyes never wavering from his as she gave a small nod.

Well, he might as well explain. Especially when she looked all pouty at the wrong assumption she'd made that he didn't love her.

"My big romantic gesture to tell you that I am hopelessly, so pitifully, so so deeply in love with you was supposed to be on your birthday. I had it all worked out. I'd have it all set up: the blanket so we could lie back and stargaze comfortably; the snacks because, well, snacks are great; and then I'd let you unwrap the telescope I got you."

He paused to chastise himself, "Which I could've not mentioned to keep it a surprise, but I've done it now and I'm going to get you something else as well to keep the mystery going."

"You don't need to get me anything else. The telescope is perfect as it is," she said softly, leaning forward to plant a small peck on his lips, her smile spreading as his hand reached up to cup the side of her face tenderly.

"Then we'd cuddle. We'd watch the stars. It would be so comfy and sweet and you'd have a pink nose because it's cold out. And the best part? Your cheeks." His thumbs started tracing small circles into her cheeks. "These cute things. They'd become the same colour as your nose when I finally said those three words that I've been trying to say for so long."

His words seemed almost too good to be true, yet they were one hundred percent pure truth.

"Now I've fucked it by moaning it when I shot my come in you." He paused, giving her a look full of apology before continuing, "I hope that's okay, but I couldn't help myself. It was simply too good and-"

Interrupting him, she pressed her lips to his before he even finished explaining himself. His body relaxed immediately in reaction to her touch, his lips relaxing into a gentle smile when she leant back for him to loom above her, trapping her underneath him.

"I love you too, Bobby," she whispered tenderly as she stared up at him, a blush forming across her cheeks, a bright smile adorning her face. "But we can do the cheesy mushy shit later because I'm sticky and would love round two in the shower."

Bob smiled back at her softly as he pulled back slightly and planted his forehead atop hers. He couldn't help but beam, "So you're saying that you love me and that I was good enough at sex that you want to go again?"

Y/N laughed quietly under her breath. "Maybe."

Bob was living in a constant state of giddiness and he was loving every second of it.

"I think I should take that as a yes then, huh?"

"I wouldn't mind taking the lead for a while," she teased, poking his stomach with her index finger playfully. A mischievous glint appeared in his eye and she knew exactly what he was about to say next without having to utter another word, knowing that he was up for the challenge.

"Want me to carry you to the bathroom?"

The answer was obvious.

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