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gglitch1dd · 3 months

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Cheating DILF Izuku

Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader

Note: This is just an angst story. IT IS NOT CONFIRMED PART OF MY STORY. It is not CANON. Izuku would NEVER cheat but if he did... it would be like this. I wrote this just to watch people cry.

Warning: Child loss, grief, Infidelity, Absent parenting,

You felt him shift behind you as his alarm rang. It was early in the morning and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to get up and out of bed yet. There was a whole ocean of space between you and your husband. A gap that had not been crossed or touched in over six months. It felt so cold to even try and move from your side of the bed because you knew that the person you were reaching out to was just as cold and if not, colder.

You heard your husband get out of bed and move towards the bathroom to get ready for work. There was no more slow morning sex, or waking up in his arms or to kisses. Anything and everything was work or the kids. That was all it seemed your marriage became in the span of six months.

You let out a heavy breath as you slowly sat up in bed. You looked to the right over to the family photo on your side table. You, your loving husband and your five boys. Something that seemed so far away despite the portraits having been taken just a year ago.

You got up out of bed and moved to go wake up the boys. You knocked on each of their doors, making sure they would be awake to get to school. You moved to your youngest’s bedroom. The four-year-old was still very much asleep which you were glad for. You moved over to where he was asleep in bed, his eyes closed. You gave a sad smile, but you were glad he was so blissfully unaware of everything else.

You moved to head downstairs, getting bento boxes ready and also breakfast. It was the same routine but something was always different which you couldn’t help but be grateful for.

Just as you fried the eggs, your oldest sons came downstairs.

“Morning mom!” Asahi greeted as he moved to quickly kiss your cheek and immediately went to grab plates to set the table. You smiled at your eleven year old son, already dressed in his gakuran.

“Morning ma!” Another kiss went to your cheek as Hero, your seven year old came and passed by, grabbing cutlery to put at the table, seemingly already in conversation with Asahi. You smiled over at him.

Finally walking over to you, in not as much as a rush than his younger brothers was Toshinori, your eldest. He gave your shoulders a squeeze and a kiss to your cheek. “Good morning, ma.” He easily picked up on tending to the other frying pan, grabbing his apron with one hand so that he could help you. He did it without being told and yet you always felt so grateful for his help. He looked at you with kind eyes and curly green hair. “Did you sleep well? How are you feeling?” He asked.

You smiled over at him, so grateful you had such an attentive eldest son. “I slept fine, thank you Toshi. I hope you slept well too.” You wished as you turned off the stove you were working at and turned to finish your husband’s bento box.

“I slept well.” He told you sweetly. “Did… did any email or mail come in yet?” he asked.

You turned to Toshinori with a smile. He had been eagerly awaiting a letter from UA. You were just grateful that with everything that happened the last six months, your son managed to still train and go to the physical exam to enter UA High School. Although you were pretty sure it was a guarantee that he would enter the school, considering he had your husband’s quirk due to him being born quirkless too, Toshinori wanted a fair and equal trial just like everyone else. He wanted to be deserving of it and in every way he was.

You turned to him shoving him gently. “Hey…” he turned to you with slightly anxious eyes. You took a deep breath and he mimicked you. You took a second before you both breathed out. You smiled. “Everything is going to be fine. I told you, you’ll be the first one to read it the moment I get it.” You promised him. He nodded his head with a smile. He opened his mouth to speak but the heavy sound of footsteps interrupted him as finally your husband descended from downstairs.

“Morning dad!”

“Morning kiddos.” Your husband let out, his voice less chirpy than it was six months ago. Midoriya Izuku walked over to where you were in the kitchen, automatically grabbing a flask of hot made coffee that you had made for him. He was in his own world again. His eyes distant but his actions were trained. The autopilot you had all been on, kicking in.

You knew you wouldn’t receive a good morning from him.

You barely got him to notice you half the time now.

You cleared your throat as you closed his bento and packed it away. “Izuku, remember Asahi’s science project at school. The viewing is at two.” You reminded him as you grabbed a can of soda and placed it with the rest of his lunch that you packed.

“Y/N, you know I can’t make it.” You heard him talk as he grabbed an apple as makeshift breakfast, not bothering to have breakfast with any of you anymore.

You looked at him with a pained expression. “Izuku, you promised you would go.”

You heard a sigh come out of him as he grabbed his bag and finally looked at you, stopping for five seconds. Your large husband felt so far away from you despite not being more than three steps away from you. “Y/N, I’m the Number One hero of this country. I don’t have time to always go to every recital and function.” He reminded you.

You felt annoyance bubble up inside you as your eyebrows furrowed. Your grip on your apron tightened as you looked up at him. That was always his excuse nowadays. “Izuku, you have been so busy with work lately. It would mean the world to him if you showed up. He’s been getting into arguments at schoo-”

“Y/N, I have a meeting in less than an hour.” He dismissed as he started to turn to leave the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll try make it if I get time.” He waved it off as he headed towards the entrance hallway, leaving you and the boys alone once again.

You bit back the emotions of annoyance and disappointment as you let out a sigh and turned to do something else, ignoring the boys and their silence as they watched. That’s how mornings were like now. Either Izuku buzzing by too fast to even get more than a sentence out of him before he’s out the door, or he’s never there entirely.

It had been like this ever since your second youngest, Shoyo had passed away.

A villain had attacked his primary school as revenge against heroes including your husband. Your little boy had sacrificed himself along with Hanta and Mina’s youngest child, Sero Kimiko. It was a dark day in your group of friends to lose two six year olds, innocent and pure. It was a horrible incident, an even more horrible case. Your husband and other heroes were on the scene one minute too late.

It was a horrible time for all of you. You barely could call yourself a human after the funeral and even during the hearing of state vs the class A villain, Jigsaw. You don’t remember most of it, all you knew was that you didn’t even get to see your little boy’s body one final time before cremation, because there simply wasn’t anything to hold.

You couldn’t imagine the horrific sight your husband saw that day, but he only truly began to change once the court ruling had happened and Jigsaw was sentenced to the death penalty. Your husband had moved further and further away from you, almost as if being near you and the boys was torture.

You couldn’t understand it at all, but you always made excuses for him. Even when it was Toshinori’s fifteenth birthday and Izuku wasn’t there. You told your son everything under the moon to make him understand, and he did. Because he loved his father that much. But there was only so many excuses you could give for so long.

With all the kids at school and you having taken Koda to kindergarten, leaving you alone for a few hours, you decided to clean Izuku’s study. The grand room was filled with papers and books, his laptop monitors all on from the long night he spent in here after coming home from patrol. You didn’t even know how he kept on moving when it seemed like he barely slept in your own bed. You didn’t question the times he wouldn’t come home for days on end, always saying he spent his nights at the office.

You ignored the smell of perfume on his hero suits too.

You walked into the room, moving to clear his desk and the multiple mugs of empty coffee. You moved to clear all the clutter, moving classified documents into a pile where he could find them all. He worked hard, it was something you always admired about him. It was the reason why the crime rate had more than halved in the last six months.

You heard a message pop up on his monitor. He had long time connected his phone to his computer, he said it made it easier to access things sometimes. Izuku also had a habit of leaving things on when he wanted to get back to it but always getting so whirled up in his head that he never did get back to them sometimes.

You made the ugly mistake of looking up at the monitor, your eyes reading before you could stop yourself.

You didn’t move.

You didn’t breathe.

You watched as message after message popped up.

Suddenly it felt as if your entire world had fallen underneath your feet.

Izuku dragged a hand through his hair as he came in through the door. It was past eight and no doubt, dinner had already been eaten in the Midoriya household. He had gotten so caught up in work and other matters that time just washed by. But that’s just how time seemed to pass ever since…

His eyes automatically went to the photo in the entranceway that sat beside a candle that was always lit no matter the time of day. A photo of a little boy, not older than six, with the brightest green eyes and the biggest smile. Hair so big and curly it almost swallowed him up whole. Inko had told Izuku when Shoyo was born, that he looked the most like him out of every single one of the boys, with the same sparkle in his eyes and smile that reached the stars.

Looking at him now only made Izuku feel nothing but never-ending guilt.

Taking off his shoes, Izuku got into the house. It was that soft time when homework was either being done or the boys got to destress before their busy days tomorrow.

“Dad!” Izuku turned to see his eldest. Toshinori had his hands in his pockets as he walked over to his father. Every day it seemed like the boy was getting taller, although he still hadn’t hit that particular growth spurt. He’d probably get it in second year of high school, like Izuku had. Toshinori seemed a bit apprehensive, knowing how his father seemed much more rougher than he was before. But he couldn’t blame him. Something in all of them changed six months ago. “Evening.” He nodded his head.

It took Izuku a second before mustering up a smile. “Toshi, how was school?”

Toshinori gave a look of surprise which hurt Izuku. How long had it been since he asked his son that question? “G-good!” He let out with a smile, so excited that his father asked. “It was great! Yah, Kane and I got moved into the first team for rugby! Coach said I could really get better as long as…” A soft blush went to his face as he scratched the back of his head. “As long as I learn to stop accidentally activating One for All when I get too worked up.”

Izuku let out an amused scoff but put a hand to Toshinori’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I struggled with that too even now. Just practise what I’ve already taught you and find a way to box it whenever you’re playing.” He advised. Toshinori perked up, his eyes as bright as stars as he smiled, glad to receive something from his father today. When last had he checked up on Toshinori and his use of One for All? Izuku felt sick at the thought. Izuku looked up to the empty kitchen. “Where’s mom?”

“Oh! She told me to tell you to meet her in your room. She said she had to talk to you about something. I’m not sure what.” He shrugged. “Must have to do with Asahi’s fight.”

Izuku nearly had whiplash as he turned to look back at Toshinori. “Fight? What fight?”

“Asahi got into another fight at school during the showcase. Didn’t tell me what about though.” Toshinori shrugged, but underlying worry in his demeanour.

Another?

Was this a frequent thing? Since when?

Izuku opened his mouth to speak but Toshinori beat him to it. “He’s been in his room since after dinner.”

Izuku nodded. “Thanks Toshi.” He turned to head straight upstairs. Izuku moved immediately straight into his mind at all this news. Fights? Since when did his eleven year old get into fights? Why wasn’t he told? Izuku was confused as he opened the door to your shared bedroom. He needed a shower and preferably a long night’s rest, but first he had to get down to this issue on Asahi. Your husband stepped into your bedroom. “Y/N, what is this I’m hearing about Asahi-”

“Close the door.” The tone in your voice had the green haired Number One hero freezing. It was eerily calm. It was horrifying because the only times you ever spoke like that was when you were angry. His eyebrows twitched as he looked to you as you sat on the other side of the master bedroom. The fire place in your bedroom was lit, which confused him because he didn’t think it all that cold to light a fire. Your eyes remained forward, your back towards him as you stood in the otherwise dark room. “Close the door, Midoriya.”

“Midoriya?” Izuku was confused. You hadn’t called him that since before you started dating, since third year of UA actually. It was an odd thing to hear come out of your lips, especially since you were Midoriya too. Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stepped forward. “Y/N, what’s going-”

“Close the door.” This time you said it a bit more firmly, but you were careful not to shout considering your door was still open.

Izuku complied, closing the door behind him, because like everyone in your family, there were rules to your household. One rule was that only under emergency circumstances was your bedroom door to be opened without knocking or permission from the both of you. Another was that your bedroom was the one neutral place where you could both talk to one another openly and freely without worry of the kids and having to be mindful parents.

Or at least it used to be.

The room was silent and tensely so. You looked down at the fire the entire time, nothing but the sound of the burning of wood was in the room as you both stood at opposite sides of the room.

“Do you remember…” Your voice started, nearly startling your husband that felt as though he could break out into a sweat in any second. “When we started dating, you used to write me letters.” You spoke softly and yet Izuku could hear every word. He noticed then that there was burnt papers in the fire place and papers in your hand still. Pages of handwritten letters, of ink and passionate love sat in your hands. “Pages upon pages of images of your thoughts and emotions of me. Each one different than the other. Nothing was the same and yet they all carried the same undeniable feeling of you… Midoriya Izuku, the man I fell in love with.” You spoke with such delicacy, almost as if that feeling of receiving them was fresh inside you. “And yet,” Your grip on the papers grew hard. “Not even more than half a year after our fourth son’s death…” You tossed the papers into the fire, not even looking back at them as they crumbled and charred under the heat.

This was the first time Izuku saw you since coming back and the image of your face is something he would have scarred into him for the rest of his life. Tears flowed from your eyes, and yet the only look he could see on you was pure anger and disgust. You looked absolutely broken and Izuku knew in that moment that you knew.

“You cheated on me.” You whispered with such anger it almost felt like that was a slap in his face entirely. “Why?”

It was a simple question, and one that Izuku didn’t have the answer to. Izuku was shaking. He was as pale as snow and fear brimmed in his eyes for the first time in a long time and yet you didn’t care. He closed his eyes and breathed. “You know how hard it’s been for me these last few months. All the headlines and everyone saying that I wasn’t fast enough to save him. I… I’ve been swallowed up with guilt and grief.”

“You don’t think we all have?” You asked coldly, making him stiffen. You stepped forward with a scowl on your face. “I stay here and take care of our home, of our boys. Our boys who have the same face as their brother and I have to fight the urge to cry at every waking moment because I see him in their faces!” You shouted pointing at the door. “I’ve been grieving!” Your hand went to your chest, painfully so but you didn’t care how hard you squeezed. It didn’t compare to the agony in your heart that only reignited. “We’ve all been grieving! I’ve been begging you to talk to me! Telling you not to listen to the headlines and talk to me! To talk in therapy! You have no excuse!”

“I was weak!” He shouted back at you, angrier at himself than he could ever be at you. “Like always! Ochaco was there just as a friend and then it felt so easy just to talk to her and unburden with her and then…” He couldn’t say it. It felt too real if he said it. It was all just a dream to him. A fantasy he could indulge in for a few hours out of the agony. It meant nothing to him, not like how you mean the world to him.

You shrugged. “And then what? You tripped and fell into her cunt? What, Izuku!”

“I don’t know!” He shouted back at you. It was silent for another moment. “How did you find out?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess it doesn’t.” He closed his eyes as he swallowed down the heavy pill.

This was it.

This was the end.

He had ruined everything all because he felt too much of a failure to face you and would have rather run to someone else than to you. His loyal and faithful wife. His loving wife. The woman that had given him everything. He felt a tear slip out of his eye as he looked down at the ground. He couldn’t look you in the eyes. Not when you knew. Not when you looked at him with the very thing he wanted to avoid in the first place.

He wiped his face. “Where are the divorce papers?” He asked in a whisper.

There was a beat of silence before a scoff came out of you. You folded your arms as you stood before him. “Divorce papers?” You asked almost as if it was funny. “Oh God, no.” Immediately, Izuku looked up at you in shock. You shook your head almost as if the very thought was unthinkable. “No. I’m not going to order a divorce. Do you know why?”

Izuku knew better than to give you a real answer. He decided to stay silent as he shook his head. The sound of your shoes on the floor was deafening as you walked forward to stand right in front of him.

You pointed to the picture on your bedside table. “Because of them.” You stated honestly. “Because of the four boys that we still have. That is the reason why I’m not getting the best divorce lawyer in this damn country. That is why I am not packing my bags and taking my children far away from you so that they can hate your actions just as much as I do.” You emphasised. “I love those boys more than I care for my own sanity and soul. I love those boys so much, I am painstakingly aware of the fact that I can never divorce you because I would never be able to take care of them without you. I love them so much that I know that they love you as if you hung the stars, Izuku!” You shouted at him, tears flowing down your face. A hiccup broke your voice but it didn’t stop you. “They love you so much and yet I know it would kill them to know what you’ve done! I refuse to let our sons hate you the same way you hate your father.”

That cold hard truth came crashing down on him like ice water. It chilled him to the very bone, and stirred his stomach making him feel sick.

Your jaw shivered with emotion, but you kept your head held high. “That is why I will not divorce you. I do not wish to inflict whatever more emotional trauma they could have after the last six months. So this is what is going to happen.” You folded your arms as you looked up at him. “Oh Izuku stop crying.”

He jolted as he hadn’t realised that there were tears flowing down his face. He moved a hand to his face, feeling the wetness of tears against his skin. He looked back at you. “Thank-”

“I don’t want to hear it, because I don’t care.” You cut him off quickly shutting him up. “I don’t care if you have every girl in the whole of Japan wrapped around your finger, but those women will never set a single foot into this house or into our children’s lives, do you understand me? If word gets out about this, you damn believe I will drain you dry Izuku. I will make sure that there is nothing left of your legacy that you have cultivated.” You hissed with pure intent in every word you said.

Izuku nodded his head pathetically scared of you (rightfully so). “Y/N, I promise you, I’ll never do it again! I’ll go to therapy again! We can go together. I promise I’ll change and-”

“I don’t care because you will never touch me sexually again.” You told him flat out. “We will act, we will pose, we will sing if we damn have to, to make our boys and the rest of Japan believe that we are somewhat of a functioning team at least until they are all out of the house. But Izuku know this…” You stepped forward as you looked up at him.

This was the man you had fallen in love with. A man who held your heart in the palm of his hand so easily that it was probably foolish of you to have loved him as much as you did. You loved Midoriya Izuku. You loved his smile, his muttering, his large scarred hands that held a world full of problems but still held you tenderly, you loved his laugh, you loved his heart. You loved the man standing in front of you.

“I love you.” You let out brokenly, taking the both of you by surprise. You nodded your head with a smile, a smile so broken it looked wrong on your face. “I love you, and you are the father of my children and my partner, but you will never again be my husband.”

Izuku didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he didn’t breathe. He was stuck there like a statue but you still continued.

“Now…” You brushed down your front. “I have to go give Toshinori his acceptance letter to UA. I advise you clean yourself up first before you go anywhere near my son.” You moved to walk right past him, your shoes deafening as you walked out the room closing the door behind him.

Izuku was motionless still, even without you in the room.

This was a worser fate than a divorce. Being trapped with the love of his life and never feeling her love back in return. Being married but never being your husband ever again.

“Morning mom!”

A kiss went to your cheek as you were finishing up breakfast. Toshinori smiled at you as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “Good morning, mom.”

You let out a chuckle, trying to fill in the void and hollow feeling inside you. You grabbed your eldest son, bringing him into a hug as he laughed. “There’s my hero!” he grabbed a hold of you, picking you up off your feet making you shout in surprise. You had forgotten that with One for All he had also inherited his father’s strength. “Toshinori!” You shouted out in surprise. “Put me down!”

He laughed and held you tight, but put you back on your feet. You couldn’t help but giggle as he moved to switch off the stove and grab plates out of the cabinet. The heavy footsteps of your husband were heard as he descended from upstairs. You didn’t bother to look up at him.

Izuku looked a bit less like the mess you left him in last night. You had told him that for the night he wasn’t allowed in your bedroom, and he would stay in the office he cared about more than you in the last six months. He wore sweatpants as he kept one hand in his pockets and came down.

Asahi looked up from where he was setting the table. “Morning dad!”

“Morning buddy.” Izuku forced a smile to his face as he walked over to the table. He pulled Asahi in for a hug making his eyes go wide in surprise. The other boys looked at their father confused but didn’t say anything. “How did you sleep?”

“…fine.” He answered, glancing at you. You shrugged, acting to be oblivious. He did the same thing with Hero as well, before coming over to do the same with Toshinori.

Toshinori looked up at his father in surprise. “Morning dad… is your shift later in the day?” He asked as he noticed his father’s rather casual attire. He normally would just sleep in or rest more and let the four of you have breakfast by yourselves.

Izuku hesitated but shook his head as he moved over to grab an extra plate, noticing that the number of plates Toshinori had gotten was just for the four of you excluding him. “No.” He answered rather blankly. Izuku took his plate as well as the other plates that Toshinori was holding and went to go put them on the table. Asahi noticed the extra plate and went to go and grab more cutlery.

Breakfast was finished and so you all moved to the table. You kept notice of the time, wondering if you should wake up Koda or not. You sat next to Izuku on his right side like before, as he sat at the head of the table. Toshinori sat beside you, not wanting to sit on the other side of his father today. Your three eldest boys sat quietly, not touching their plates either as they looked between you and their father. You looked to Izuku and for a moment your husband froze.

That was the look you always gave him whenever you all used to sit at the table together. You would sit together and you would let him lead. Izuku felt horrible knowing that you were perfect. You always used to make it so important that the boys learnt from him in being a good male figure, no matter what. And yet as you looked at him now, all he saw was emptiness in your eyes. Rightfully so.

He cleared his throat and smiled. He put his hands together. “Thank you for the food.” The boys quickly followed afterwards before you all started eating. You sat posed and composed as if last night wasn’t one of the worst nights of your life. Izuku looked up at the three boys. “Actually boys…” He started.

The three of them looked up, heads of green hair perking up as they looked to their large Prohero father who sat at the head of the table. You were quiet as you let him say whatever piece he wanted to say. Whether he wanted to tell the boys or not, you wouldn’t intervene.

“I owe an apology to all of you.” He started. Toshinori’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He glanced at you with an emotionless expression but then looked back at his father. “To you and…” He motioned to the three of them before moving to look at you. You put your hand down silently allowing whatever he was doing. He put his hand over yours, squeezing it and yet you didn’t squeeze back. “And to your mother. The last six months have been…” He paused. A heavy pause that everyone felt. “Difficult for all of us and I haven’t been around as much as I should have. I’m sorry about that. And so… I’ve decided that I am taking some time off.”

All the boys whipped their heads to look at you as if asking you if it was true. You shrugged. You didn’t know either where this decision had come from, but you were glad that it seemed like he was making true to whatever dribble he had tried to sprout out last night to you.

Toshinori hesitated but looked back at his father with an optimistic look on his face. “That’s… That’s great dad.” He smiled. He looked to his brothers.

Hero and Asahi seemed more excited than you had seen them in a while. Hero nodded his head. “Yah! And just in time for break too! Maybe we can go on a road trip!” He spoke out an idea.

Izuku laughed but nodded. “I was thinking more of a vacation but whatever you boys want.”

“Oh!” Asahi perked up. “What about Australia?”

Toshinori shook his head. “Nah.” He took a bite of his toast. “Mom hates the giant spiders.”

“How about Greece?!” Hero suggested. “Mom was watching Mamma Mia two weeks ago! That place looked so cool and blue!”

You watched the boys bicker about a family vacation which brought a smile to your face. You were glad to see they were some semblances of happy for the first time in a long time.

Your eyes flicked down to where Izuku had his hand over yours still. You gripped his hand immediately taking his attention. You smiled at him as you leaned forward closer to his ear. “Good job, honey.” You said, enough that if the boys looked it would have been innocent, but Izuku knew what that was. He didn’t need it spelt out to him.

You placed a kiss to his lips, brief and to the point, making the boys gag. “Ew!”

“Mom! Please not at the table!” Asahi let out in deep exasperation.

Izuku was still for a moment, tears burning at his eyes. Your kiss was fake. Your praise was fake. Everything was a show, a play for the boys to be happy. You were still disappointed in him. You would always be disappointed in him.

He let out a shaky breath and smiled. “Hey! Leave my wife alone.” He said jokingly.

No matter what, he’d carry for the rest of his life, the fact that he had disappointed you.

-Glitch1d

[Izuku Midoriya Masterlist]

[Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist]

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ashwhowrites · 4 months

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Dustin's babysitter

Eddie x Dustin's babysitter

A small idea that ran through my head. I hope you guys enjoy this🫶🏻 and thank you for reading!

Dustin wasn't a fan of admitting he still had a babysitter. His friends always teased him but his mom was just scared of the world and wanted extra eyes on him. Dustin loved his babysitter, Y/N. He always had a blast with her, she interacted with him and he liked to believe they were good friends.

Dustin groaned when he saw Y/N's car pulling up to grab him from hellfire. He hated his friends knowing, and he didn't want to admit to Eddie he needed a babysitter.

"Awwww Dusty's little babysitter is here!" Mike mocked, his voice like a baby.

Dustin blushed and rolled his eyes. So much for not wanting Eddie to know, Dustin thought.

"Woah! Henderson, do you still have a babysitter? Aren't you like in high school?" Eddie asked, confusion on his face and a slight smile peeking out.

"My mom is paranoid, okay!" Dustin argued he tried to quickly walk to her car as she still drove up, but he yanked open her door before she even parked.

"You okay?" She asked, Dustin sighed and nodded. It wasn't her fault he was embarrassed. She was simply doing her job.

"...well let me meet this said babysitter." She heard a deep voice say, definitely older than the young teens she was around.

Then a face appeared in Dustin's open window. She saw dark curly long hair and dazzling brown eyes. This boy was much older, and she was thankful for that because he was damn hot.

Eddie wasn't sure what smart-ass remark he planned to make. He met her eyes and found himself wishing he needed a babysitter. She was gorgeous, hot, and sexy all at once. In simple jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, but he swore she glowed. He snapped out of his daydream and turned on his charm.

A smirk on his face as he held out his ring-filled hand, "Name is Eddie Munson, and you are?"

"Y/N, it's nice to meet you." She said with a polite smile as she shook his cold metal hand. The weight of his rings made his hand feel heavy, yet she didn't mind.

Dustin watched between the two, eyeing the way they stared, and didn't let go of each other. He awkwardly coughed, causing them to jump apart with embarrassed smiles. Eddie pulled back his hand and held it behind his back.

"I'll see you around, Eddie." She said and pulled out of the parking lot. Eddie straightened his spine as he watched the car take off.

"Wow, she's -" he started but Mike and Lucas cut him off.

"Hot," they said in unison with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, hot." Eddie agreed, his mind filled with her and her only.

~~~

"Pizza is coming at 7, so just don't be later than that," Dustin said to the gang as they circled in the hallway.

"Do I have to be there?" Max asked with a sigh, she did not want to spend her Friday night at Dustin's house.

"Not like you have anything better to do," Dustin argued with a glare. Max sighed but agreed that he was right.

"So my house before 7!" Dustin said one last time, the gang nodded and everyone understood.

"Having a party little man?" Eddie asked as he walked up, overhearing the conversation. It was a Friday night and he kinda hoped Dustin's mom had big plans for the night.

"Sorta! Why? Are you interested?" Dustin asked excitedly, Eddie was slowly becoming like a big brother and he wanted to hang out with him more.

"Will your mom be there?" Eddie asked slight hope in his voice.

"Nope!"

"Then I'm there," Eddie said with a wink. He couldn't wait for tonight.

"Okay! Bring your apron!" Dustin said as the final bell rang. He was quick to walk down the hall for class.

"WAIT! APRON!?" Eddie called after him but the halls got loud with all the commotion.

~~~

Once school ended, Eddie raced him with excitement. He dug through his closet to find his best clothes, and he picked out his best jewelry. He sprayed cologne all over himself and covered his lips in chapstick....just in case.

He didn't want to seem too eager so he waited to show up around 7 o'clock. He knocked on the door and rocked on his heels. He planned to talk Y/N's ear off all night and then ask her out. And hopefully, end the night with his lips on hers.

"You made it!" Dustin cheered as he opened the door. Eddie walked through and saw the gang all covered in flour.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked

"Bake sale!" Dustin said as they walked into the kitchen. Eddie did not know what he got himself into. A bake sale? Eddie does not bake, he gets baked.

"Oh hell no, I'm not baking." Eddie laughed, he took in the room and noticed Y/N wasn't even there.

"Where's your babysitter?"

"Right here," Steve said as he walked into the kitchen. A towel over his shoulder and a dirty apron on his body. "You must be Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Son of a bitch!" Eddie groaned.

~~~

After Eddie's big fail of a Friday night, he didn't have much energy for Saturday. Of course, Henderson has two babysitters and Y/N wasn't there the night he was around. And he got stuck baking over a hundred cookies. Safe to stay, he learned his lesson of jumping into plans.

Eddie was trying to work on his campaign when his line rang. He groaned and walked over to pick it up, figuring it would be Wayne. But instead, he heard Dustin's familiar voice on the other line.

"Hey! I got this new video game, wanna come over and try it? Mom's gone so you can bring your beers."

Eddie had to admit, drinking and video games were tempting.

"Babysitter gonna allow that?" Eddie asked.

"Y/N wo-" "I'm on my way" Eddie cut him off and raced to his room. Once again, he found his best clothes, sprayed himself in cologne, and grabbed a beer case from his closet.

Eddie prepped himself during the car ride. He had limited time to make his impression on her and a little time to get her number. He didn't want to ditch Dustin too much so he needed to give equal time to the young kid. And to make it not noticeable Eddie was going for the hot babysitter.

Dustin raced to the door to answer it when Eddie knocked, excitedly dragging him to the couch as he had the game all set to go. But before they could start, Eddie's prayers were answered.

"What's Eddie doing here?" She asked confused, Dustin didn't need permission but she wasn't aware he invited anyone over.

"New video game!" Dustin said, remote in hand.

"Nah uh, you still need to clean your room. Mom said that before the new game." Y/N reminded him with a stern tone. Dustin sighed but listened. His shoulders slumped as he walked into his room. "ONE SECOND EDDIE!"

"I'm sorry to make you wait. He didn't tell me." Y/N said, "But you can play if you want while you wait for him."

"Wanna join me?" He asked, holding out Dustin's remote with a smile. This was his chance.

"I don't know how to play," Y/N said, a little nervous. She didn't want to look like an idiot in front of Dustin's incredibly hot friend.

"I'll teach ya, baby. Come sit." He patted the cushion next to him, excitement in his stomach as she shuffled towards him. She tried to fight off the blush on her cheeks from the nickname.

She sat next to him and tried to listen to his instructions, but her nose caught his scent and traveled to her brain. All she could focus on was how amazing he smelled, how his T-shirt fit him in all the right places, and how his jeans touched her legs.

"Ready?" He asked, his head turned to look at her. She felt her breath get stuck in her throat, she had no idea what to do. She coughed and snapped herself back into reality. "let's do it!" She smiled.

Within the first five minutes, Eddie could sense she was struggling, he reached over and held his hand over hers. His fingers and thumbs pressed her fingers into the correct buttons. Again his scent filled her nose and his hair tickled her neck.

His hands felt warm and rough, but she liked it.

"See, you got it!" Eddie encouraged, slowly taking his hands off hers as she focused on the game. She was playing it by herself and successfully!

"Like this?" She asked but her eyes were still on the screen. His head turned as he looked at her. "like that" he whispered.

She turned her head to look back at him and held her breath when she noticed how close their faces were. She bit her lip as his eyes looked at her lips, her eyes, and back to her lips. She couldn't help but look at his lips as well. They were so pink and looked so soft.

"Did good?" She breathed out, her eyes still on his lips.

"Very good." He whispered, his right hand cupped her cheek and he slowly leaned in. He smiled as her eyes fluttered shut and her head moved forward. He closed his eyes and killed the space between them. His lips were on hers as he softly tasted her. He felt a fire burning in his stomach and fuzziness all over his body. Her hand slipped from the controller and moved to his chest. Her palms rested against him as she kissed back.

"ALL DONE!" Dustin screamed, causing Y/N to jump back and shuffle over. Eddie groaned in disappointment as Dustin interrupted.

"I'll leave you boys to it." She said softly with a smile, her fingertips touching her lips as she stood up, a little dazed.

"Can I get your number? Maybe take you on a date?" Eddie asked before his chance was up.

"Oh absolutely. I'll go write it down." She said as she rushed to the kitchen. Eddie couldn't help but keep his eyes on her as she walked away.

"That excited to play?" Dustin asked, seeing the huge smile on Eddie's face.

"Very damn excited," Eddie said, his smile never leaving as Dustin pressed play.

Eddie scored a date with the babysitter.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie Munson x babysitter reader #ashwhowrites

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eddywoww · 6 months

Text

I know literally all soulmate mark fics have been done (tw: scarification and abuse)

But I’m imagining one where Steve has a mark and it’s fucking huge on his forearm. It says “Are you okay?” And his mom absolutely hates it. She glares at it when it pops up when he’s only eight years old and she won’t stop talking about it, won’t let it go.

She wants it gone.

So she pays to have it lazered off. Steve hates the process, cries before and during and after because he’s only a little boy and it hurts so badly.

But it doesn’t work. The phrase only pops up somewhere new. On his ankle. It’s a little smaller but it’s the same phrase. He tries to hide it this time but it’s no use, his mom spots it at a clothes fitting. Being rich meant that he had little to no privacy growing up.

She takes him to a different place this time and the process is even worse and Steve wishes they’d get better at it. Soulmarks aren’t like tattoos. The process is much more painful even than that. And poor Steve doesn’t get why he can’t have it, why his mom doesn’t want him to have it.

He would figure out later that she only wanted to control everything aspect of his life. The next time it pops up, she gets more egregious. Wants it to be cut out of his skin. Steve sobs the night before, knows it’ll scar so much worse on the meat of his bicep. He hates it, hates that she won’t let him have this and he just doesn’t understand. He keeps hoping it’ll show up somewhere she won’t find it.

After many failed tries, it finally does.

Steve almost doesn’t believe it when he finds the phrase, as tiny as possible, on the sole of his foot. He hides it. He wears socks, he tries his best to make sure his mom never sees it. He spends his teenage years trying harder and harder to get away from her. Stealing and saving money, making sure she can’t keep him locked away anymore.

Steve runs away eventually. Ends up going to college and buying goodwill furniture and getting a part time job and-

But it’s rough because he’s always been sort of shut in. A pretty ornament for his mom to show off at parties and galas. He didn’t spend much time around other kids. So school makes him nervous. Anxious to a startling degree.

It happens on a normal Tuesday. He’s in the campus lunchroom, a tray in hand. It’s shaking, his drink nearly spilling as he tries to make his way through the moving mass of students. It’s too much, all his senses firing at one hundred or more.

And then it happens. He almost drops the tray as someone bumps into him, only to grab Steve by the elbows, turning big brown eyes and curly hair toward him. A boy. A very attractive, apologetic looking boy.

Steve was mesmerized before he even opened his mouth.

“Are you okay?” The boy asks in shock. “I didn’t mean to almost knock you down, man. That’s my bad.”

Steve stares at him like he’s just seen the sun for the first time.

“I like your hair,” He says, because he can’t think of anything else to say and he really does.

Eddie Munson nearly drops him a second time. Just behind his ear, he too wears a phrase. Unscarred and unmarked. He has no problem showing it to Steve right there in their busy campus lunchroom.

“I like your hair.”

Eddie might be without Steve’s scars but he has some of his own. A life well lived, not very far from Steve. They don’t lament over lost time. After all, it was meant to be.

#blurbs #this is pure fluff wow #my fic

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cherry-leclerc · 9 months

Text

fucked-up little thrill ☆ cl16

genre: pwp but also porn with plot (the best of both worlds!), humor, she truly is a maneater in disguiseee

word count: 8.3K

There’s a difference between warning and danger - you happen to be both. Though, Charles only sees the green light, go. Well, we can all imagine how this will already go.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+...oral (m and f receiving), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, riding, slight cry, unprotected sex

inspired by this and this !

“She’ll mess with your head, man. You’re going to wish she had never looked your way.”

“I told my mom about her. Crap, I bought her an engagement ring after a few days of knowing her.”

“Four words: Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“Do you know how fucked in the head you have to be in order to willingly go after her? Fucking pathetic. Sure, I did the same, but hear me out-”

Despite the warnings, he didn’t pay them any attention. He thought he was going crazy for sure when he saw two guys on their knees, begging: Run, just do it. And whatever you do, don’t look back.

Charles wasn’t even listening.

The nights were beginning to get warmer, yet there was still a slight breeze. Spring was rolling in. What an innocent season to meet the wildest card Charles has ever dealt.

“...then she laughed so hard that, Jesus Mary and Joseph, my heart went bananas! Y’know what I did next? I asked her, ‘You want a slice?’ I meant the tiramisu, guys! She thought I was talking about myself! T’was the most embarrassing thing. Made me look like a bloody narcissist.” Lando whined as he leaned onto the table to hide his face.

George snorts. “Ah don’t worry mate, I would gladly take a slice.” Lando groans, further rubbing his forehead onto the table. So much so, that it began to squeak.

“Alright, calm down before you shed your skin off. It wasn’t that bad.” Alex voices, as he pops a curly fry into his mouth.

“Easy for you to say! You basically have the person you’re going to get married to! You’re safe.” The Brit pouts. He then lifts his head up and wipes away a single tear. Everyone explodes into laughter.

“Muppet, c’mon we were kidding! Weren’t we just fooling around, Charles?” Carlos wiggles his eyebrows at the Monegasque. Charles rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yes, of course we were joking,” he starts. Lando looks up, seemingly feeling better as everyone began to agree. We were just playing around!

“Then again, how did you even fall for a girl like that?” Charles finishes his sentence.

“Argh. You don’t get itttt,” Lando wails in defeat. “When you meet a girl like that, you don’t question it. You just thank God for sending her your way and then BAM! She just walks out of your life.”

Hm - Charles thinks to himself as he takes a sip of Martini - naive, naive little Lando.

Charles met you that same night he was out for dinner with the boys. He was waiting for his car from the valet; shooting Joris a quick text.

"Sorry," he overhears a soft voice, but still didn’t pay much attention.

"Sorry? You’re sorry? We both know goddamn well that you’re sorry about nothing. Nada. Zeeerrrooo," a man's voice angrily shouts back, voice slurring.

Charles turns and sees a man running his hands through his blonde hair, walking back and forth in despair. Then, his eyes move to find you.

Standing tall in the tightest, shortest, black dress he's ever seen. So, the little black dress truly does exist. Glowy skin shining through from the lights decorating the outside of the restaurant. Your legs appear miles long, feet paired with your nicest set of heels, Joli Queen Glitter. Red fucking bottoms. Christian Louboutin at its finest. Rich jewelry sits on your wrists, fingers, and neck.

Even with all that in the way, all he notices is just how drop-dead gorgeous you are. Suddenly, his fingers get clammy. What the hell? His jaw was clenched. Literally, why? His pants were growing tight because oh God he was already har- Alright, now that’s just crazy, Charles. Get it together.

“Yes. Whether you believe me or not, I’m sorry. Maybe you just shouldn’t have set high expectations,” you spoke, looking down.

“Are you being fucking serious right now? You’re smiling? You think this is funny! Oh God, what the fuck is wrong with you, you crazyyyy bitch!” The man continues, sharply pointing his finger at you accusingly. He genuinely looks like he’s about to start crying for his mommy.

“Okay mate, I think that’s enough. Why don’t I call you a cab?” Charles speaks up from where he’s standing. You and the mysterious guy turn to look at him.

You shoot a smile as the man's eye starts twitching.

“Oh great! Great, great, great,” the man chants. “What an idiotic thing to believe that you hadn't gotten rid of me already! How could I not see it coming?” He drops to his knees and starts rocking back and forth. “On my dead hamster's birthday!” Levi, Charles later finds out, cries out to the sky. “Couldn’t this have happened any other day?” Charles cringes. “Call me that shitty ass cab, dude.”

So, you stand close by as Charles helps plop Levi inside with the help of the cab driver. They buckle him up and off they go.

Not before Levi pokes his out the window. “I swear I’m not being bitter when I tell you to fucking save yourself!”

Both of you are left there standing quietly. You pout your red lips as you pull out your phone to call a cab for yourself.

“Need a lift?”

Glancing around silently, you sneak a look at Charles. Handsome, you ponder, just a tiny bit. Outrageous lie. You quickly scold yourself for being so untruthful. This man was the most beautiful kind you’ve seen in your entire life.

“Take it that was your boyfriend back there?” He taps his fingers against the wheel.

“Mmm. Hardly. No, he isn’t - wasn’t - my boyfriend by any means. Some guys just instantly assume stuff over any girl that pays them any ounce of attention.” You lazily trace shapes onto your thigh. You tug your dress down a bit, licking your lips. “Thanks for helping me out back there. It was really sweet.”

He notices the way you never look up from your lap as you’re speaking. It’s kind of endearing, just how soft you can be. “Don’t mention it…it was…no problem.”

He walks you from his car to your house. It's small, pastel yellow with a mailbox that reads; No more love letters. Seriously. “Cute,” he comments. You blush.

“Oh, that. Sorry, I live with my two best friends and they wrote that as a joke,” you ramble as you click your heel shyly. “They said it would help out with my, and I quote, ‘secret admirers.’” You let out a tired laugh as you finally build up the courage to look at the man standing right in front of you.

“To be honest, that makes sense.” He tilts his head a bit, analyzing your eyes. “Beautiful girls should receive beautiful letters.”

Tongue tied, you stare back with a pleased smile.

“This is so unlike me, but would you like to go out some time?”

Easiest question ever asked.

A few nights later, he finally decides it would be a good day to take you out to dinner. Testing went well and the car was finally on the right track. He took this as a good omen.

“How long have you lived in Italy now?” you quiz, as you bring your Shirley Temple closer to your lips.

“Oh, um, for quite a while now. I mean it’s really only for work. I go home any chance I get.”

“Sweet. Where are you from?”

“Monaco.”

Your eyes grow wide with excitement. “Really! Monaco is so beautiful!” Your childlike squeal makes him smile brightly.

“Have you ever been?” You sadly shake your head, hair bouncing back and forth. Soft floral fills the air.

“Nope, but I wish to one day. I just know I’ll love it so much…” You trail off. “It’s just that growing up my favorite movie was Monte Carlo. Would beg my mom to play it any chance I could.” Maroon coats your cheekbones. He furrows his dark brows in confusion.

“Monte Carlo? You know, starring Selena Gomez?” His soft features pinch together. “...Leighton Meester? Katie Cassidy?” You desperatelyspit your words, trying to assist. He continues shaking his head. Never heard of it.

Your mood grows sulky as you pout. Leaning back, you finally take a sip of your drink. Oh, well now I really want something stronger than this.

“I would love to watch it some time though!” Charles tries as his voice cracks. He winces.

“Sure!” Though, you're not looking at him anymore. Your eyes are trained behind him. He’s about to turn around and ask if you’re fine, when you finally speak up. “I think I’ll go to the bar for another drink. Be right back!” He huffs.

You weren’t back for almost too long. Finally, deciding to go look for you, he stands and takes long strides all around the dark restaurant. When he finds you he sees you’re not alone.

A man in an all black suit seems to be your new company. You giggle as he appears to slide some type of business card to you. Just as you're about to grab it Charles strolls over to you both.

“Is your drink finally ready?” he asks as he wraps a protective arm around your waist. You flinch. You hadn’t even seen him walk over.

“Charles!” you shriek, as you crumble the piece of paper into the palm of your hard, hurriedly. You pray that he hadn’t noticed, but he had. Something inside of him told him not to ask. “I was actually on my way back. Did you need anything? A drink?” you ask, furrowing your brows attentively.

“No, thank you, amour,” Charles warmly replies, looking into your glossy eyes. You truly were the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“My apologies for getting in the way.” The man extends his hand out to Charles. “Aiden Quinn, pleasure to meet you.”

Charles may be upset that Aiden ruined his date, but he wasn’t keen on being rude, so begrudgingly, he shook his hand. “Charles Leclerc.” See, normally Charles isn’t the type to throw his name out like that expectantly, but he felt as if he had a point to make. He did, though. I was here first.

The man grins ear to ear, nodding. “Yes, that’s where I know you from. I knew you looked familiar. Formula 1 driver, right? Ferrari?” He points with a knowing smile.

“Scuderia’s number one driver, yes.” His grip around your waist stays secure. Meanwhile, your eyes are open to their fullest. Surprisingly, you had no idea.

“Certainly. I’m one of the team's ambassadors, actually,” Aiden challenges. Charles clenches his jaw. “When you have million dollar businesses all around the world, you try to find a place to help. Ferrari really needs it at the moment.” You’re equally as shocked with Aiden as you are with Charles.

“Well then, I’ll make sure to dedicate my next podium to you I suppose." You shift uncomfortably. This reminds him you’re there. With him. Ha! Take that, Quinn! “Anyhow, I would love to chit chat with fellow fans, but I must say we have to get going.” He holds your hand firmly as he leads you out.

“Goodbye, Aiden!” you beam as you depart ways.

“Formula 1 driver now, is it?” you curiously ask as you look over where he has one hand over the steering wheel and running the other calmly through his hair.

“Thought you knew.”

“I had no clue! Zip!” you shriek as fling your arms through the air. He laughs as he pulls into an abandoned parking lot.

“In the mood for something sweet?”

“Grazie mille,” the Monegasque says as he's handed cones of freshly made gelato. Smiling, he makes his way back to you. Hands you per requested raspberry, as he keeps his lemon one.

“Molto gentile.” You inspect and nod your head in approval. Just hearing your tongue curl in Italian has him swooning. You take a lick and release a soft moan. “So sweet. Best I’ve ever had,” you declare as you continue enjoying your treat innocently.

Charles gulps, trying to cool down. “I told you it was the best.” He shoots a wink over to Luca, the owner, for keeping the shop open for a few more minutes.

“You scared me a bit back there.”

“Pfft. With that Aiden guy…I’m sorry about that–”

“God no. Honestly, I completely forgot about that,” you mutter. “I meant with that whole, ‘In the mood for something sweet?’. Thought you were like the rest.”

The 25 year old keeps quiet for a minute. He gathers his thoughts before settling with, “I promise I’m not.”

“Keeping my fingers crossed you aren’t.” You look around with twinkling eyes. “You know, a date I once had asked me-”

You want a slice?

No.

“It shocked me how straight forward he was being. It wasn’t even our second date! I barely even knew the guy.” You frown at the memory. “Then he blamed it on the tiramisu.”

I meant the tiramisu, guys!

God no.

“Never saw him again,” you finish as you finally focus back on him. A pale Charles is all you find.

“Woah, are you okay?”

“Yes! I’m so good! You look lovely! Did I mention it already cause if I didn’t then call me the worst date ever!” He begins nervously laughing. His gelato dripping all over his arm.

“I think you did.” You smile as you hand him a few napkins. He returns the gesture, thanking you. “And don’t worry about it, leave that spot for Lando. Now he might take the crown.”

Charles let out a groan.

Charles went back and forth deciding whether he should reach out to you. He liked you. A lot. Nonetheless, he was hesitating because he just couldn’t do something like that to Lando. The Brit was as bummed out as one could get. So, it's settled. Bye bye baby.

“Of course. Tonight at 8,” your voice confirms on the other side of the line. Charles celebrates with a quick dance.

“See you then.”

He decides today that he wants to switch things up. Do something that would make him stand out from anyone that came before him.

“Monaco?” Leaning on the hood of Charles' car, you feel you have to be dreaming. He nods his head lively.

“I could show you around, y’know be your personal tour guide.”

“You should have warned me! I don’t have anything ready!” you yelp as you hold your hands over your heart, frantically. He would be more worried if it weren’t for you smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“We still have time. Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

When you make it to Monaco you’re greeted by a young guy wearing glasses, driving a Ferrari Pista. Charles and him fit in a quick embrace before they turn their attention back to you.

“Ah yes, this is Joris. He’s one of my closest friends,” Charles states as you warmly reach for a handshake.

Reciprocating, Joris says, “Very nice to meet you.” You smile, returning the greeting. “Must say, you are just as beautiful as Cha had mentioned, if not more.” You blush as Charles clears his throat awkwardly.

“D'accord, mec. Pas besoin de le dire au monde entier,” Charles mutters. “Thank you for picking us up.” Joris nods, carrying your luggages. You share a quick goodbye before he finally makes his way to another car. “That’s also one of my very good friends, Marta.” You smile and wave as they drive off.

Monaco definitely met your expectations. Everything just captivated your attention so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started to drool.

“Holy shit. Your home is absolutely stunning!” you gasp. He wheels your bags in as he exhales.

“Merci. Make yourself at home.”

Thankfully, the flight was quick so you both have plenty of energy to go out for a late night snack. He takes you to his; Favorite place in the world! You’ll see.

A little stand sits in the corner of the street.

“Lou makes one of the best crepes. Trust me, I’ve been a loyal customer since my school days.”

A little old lady is attending to customers, but stops as soon as she spots Charles. “Charlie! Chérie, je ne savais pas que tu étais de retour!” She makes her way around to hug him.

“Des projets de dernière minute, mais j'ai juste envie de manger une de tes incroyables crêpes,” he replies, as they pull away.

“And who is this pretty girl?” she questions as she looks at you, standing there patiently.

“Oop, hello. I’m a friend of Charles.” Lou smiles teasingly.

“Charlie, tu es là pour me dire que tu vas te marier?” Lou suddenly looks over the moon.

“Non!” he quickly shouts, so suddenly, you and Lou both jump a bit. Tight lipped, he apologizes.

“Like she said, we’re just friends."

The next morning after breakfast he recommends you bring something you can swim with. Skipping your way to his room, which he is kindly sacrificing for you, you roam through your luggage until you find a baby blue bikini.

“You don’t get sea sick by any means, right?” He looks over at you with scrunched brows underneath a pair of glossy black Ray Bans. You shake your head.

“Great.”

You make your way to a tiny boat before he helps you settle in. You grab his hand softly as you step into it. A single touch of electricity seems to link your fingertips. It catches you both so off guard that he lets go of you so swiftly, you don’t even notice as you plunge into the water.

You let out a quick yelp before you go underwater and his hands fly to his head in embarrassment. You resurface with wet hair covering your face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” he apologizes before extending his arm out for you to grab. Pushing your hair out of your face, you giggle.

“It’s okay, I got it.”

Once you independently get on the boat, he unties the rope off the deck and takes a seat himself to drive you both to the unknown destination.

“Pretty please, can I know now where we’re going?” you squeal with puppy eyes.

Lord help me, he thinks before replying. “We’re going to a little island I love. Îles de Lérins.” You look ahead, nodding patiently. “It’s beautiful, you’ll see.”

When you arrive it’s easy to understand that there doesn’t seem to be that many people. You basically have the place to yourselves.

He helps you off, not dropping you this time. There’s a small trail you both begin to take. It’s something peaceful, the moment you’re in. You almost wish to fit it into a snow globe.

“My parents would always bring my brothers and I here all the time during summer when we were younger,” Charles confesses.

“You have brothers?”

He turns to look at you, then continues ahead. “Yes. Two.” He kicks a rock out of his way, but something you didn’t know was just how clumsy this man child could be.

“Ouch!” you groan in pain as your hand flies up to your nose.

“Jesus! What’s wrong with me today? Are you okay? I’m so sorry!” He runs to you all panicky now.

You take it back. Break the goddamn snow globe.

You try tilting your head back to ease the blood pouring out your nose before he gently grips your face to gain your attention. You scrunch your eyes, sun suddenly blinding you. Quickly, he takes off his glasses and places them over your eyes. As you open them you notice he’s shirtless. He places his shirt on your nose to clean you up. You flinch a bit.

Instantly, you’re thankful for the sunglasses because wondering eyes were all you could give him. His lean muscles were just begging to be praised.

You shake your head before taking the Puma shirt from him. “Thanks,” you mutter as you focus on a nearby tree. “Starting to think you might hate me or something.”

“Of course not... I could never hate you!” His voice cracks in nervousness. You snicker.

After a bit more wiping, you are as good as new. You both decide to take a dip while the water feels good. You strip from your Levi shorts and t-shirt. Dipping a toe to test the temperature, you shoot him two thumbs up.

The ocean feels so fresh and silky against your skin. You can’t seem to remember the last time you’ve enjoyed someone’s company like this, even if they almost ruled you to the ends of Earth. Two fingers press against your neck. You spring one eye open and you see Charles biting down on his thumb. He relaxes.

“Sorry, I thought you crossed the line to the afterlife.”

You tread water to stretch your legs out. “I’m fine.”

He takes this time to note things he hadn’t paid attention to before. Like how your lashes pin against your skin since they’re wet. Or how a tiny bit of freckles are sprinkled on your nose. He curses himself for not having seen it any sooner. Pretty was an understatement. You were extraordinary.

A few hours later you guys are back at his house sharing a pizza. Pepperoni, you both loved a classic.

“There’s no bruise,” he points out almost proudly. You shoot a playful scowl. He walks over to the T.V. and clicks the remote. “Monte Carlo?”

He loved it, the way you said he would. He especially enjoyed watching how much you loved it.

“This movie was too ahead of its time,” you confirm as you dig your feet under the blanket you had curled into.

“Well at least Grace and Theo got their happily ever after,” he pronounces. You shoot an impressed look. “What? I was listening.” You crawl up next to him and pat his cheek. His dimples pop out from how hard he’s smiling.

He can’t help it the moment he reaches to cradle your face to press your lips together. He can’t help but let a moan slip out when you finally kiss him back.

Finally, he picks you up to adjust you on his lap, which you comfortably settle into. You feel him underneath you so clearly you can’t help but move your hips. He feels so good.

The heated moment continues as he wraps his hands around the curve of your ass. You pull away as your lips move down to his neck. He almost gasps the moment you lick down his throat. It doesn’t help that you’ve been keeping your hips in motion.

He almost passes out the moment your lips move to his ear and ask, no, beg; Let me taste you, please. How could he ever deny such offer?

Making your way down to your knees, he adjusts himself on the couch. He thinks to himself that if he were standing he would’ve made a fool out of himself because just the sight of you in front of him has him choking on his own breath. You just look so pretty.

You tug his shorts down, along with his boxers, and bite down on your lip as you grab his cock, softly. He has to stop himself from jerking into your hand. Precum sprouting from his tip. You can’t wait as you take kitten licks. Fuck, he whimpers. The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your thighs together.

Wrapping your lips around him, your hands reach to balance yourself against his thighs. You moan at the feeling of having him inside your mouth, drooling all over his lap.

This itself, is too much for Charles and thinks he’ll barely even be able to survive as his head turns against the couch' pillow with closed lids. You start bobbing your head and one hand flings down to jerk off what you can’t reach. He groans at the feeling.

You start off slow but suddenly start picking up your pace. He opens his eyes, dazed, to catch a glimpse of you on your knees and this sight is something he won’t be able to forget even if he tried. With glassy eyes, you look up at him. You make a show of releasing your lips from his cock as you lap your tongue along it. Before going back at it, you twirl your tongue a couple of times around his tip before giving it a quick suck, then deep throat him.

He grits his teeth as if to help deal with any of this but when you start toying with yourself he lets out the loudest whine he’s ever produced. You look up smiling, grazing your teeth lightly along him and he hisses at the feeling. Proudly, you fit him back into your mouth.

“God, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he manages to get out before you solely start jerking him off.

“What about my hands?” you seductively tease. The sounds coming from both your hands and his cock should be considered a sin itself. He groans as he looks back to make eye contact with you.

“Your hands too, baby.”

He knows he’s close the moment you twist your wrist perfectly. So so good. You know he’s close when he begins to twitch underneath your fingertips.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” he chants as you continue your dirty movements. He makes sure to look at you, focused, eyes drawn to his cock.

“Cum for me, Charles,” you coo as he finally bucks his hips into your hands and hot cum shoots all over your face. You wickedly smile as your lips reach his cock to continue swallowing the rest that is being released. He grabs you face to pull you off him and hauls you once again onto his lap. He’s about to kiss you before you pull away and point at the mess on your face.

You wipe two fingers along your face and bring them to your mouth to clean them off. A pop is released when you let go. He shudders.

This is the moment, Charles realizes, he’s so screwed.

When you make it back to Italy you realize that all you’ll have are a few fleeting moments together. With Charles going back to racing and you continuing your online classes, you’re both bound to be booked.

Though, Charles just isn’t ready to let you go. And a fucked up man will make fucked up choices when due.

So, he strings you along with him to the Miami GP. He realizes there’s a strong chance you might bump shoulders with Lando, but to be completely honest, he was past caring. He was completely smitten with you.

You wear your white summer dress as you are sprawled on his hotel bed. You’re a mess.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper as Charles fingers slip in and out of you. He’s feverishly kissing down the side of your thighs, bites left in between. You groan in slight pain as you tug on his soft hair. This man has brought out the moon and stars, for you.

“C’mon baby, look at me,” he whispers as he paints you with hickeys in between your legs. Somewhere no one else will ever be able to catch a glimpse of. You nod your head as you look down to find him gripping your dress over your thighs, eating you out like a starved man. You shut your eyes as you release a few soft pants, the heels of your feet press deeper against his Ferrari polo.

“Open you’re eyes.”

You shake your head. You wish you could look at him, you really wanted to, but it’s just too much take in. You wanted to make this last.

But Charles was greedy. He wanted to taste you. He stops everything all at once. You let out a cry. Fuck him.

You bring your arms around his neck, loosely, as he kisses your shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

“You weren’t looking at me.”

With all your strength you open your glittered eyelids.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos as he picks you up and sits you at the edge of the bed. You look down at him confused as he gets on his knees in front of you.

“If you can’t look at me, then you’re going to have to look at yourself,” he directs as he begins to push your dress back up your waist. You lean against your elbows as you realize what other than Charles is in front of you.

A shiny glass mirror.

With a slightly open mouth you’re about to protest before Charles picks up right where he left off. He spits on your clit before rubbing it. You bite down on your bottom lip so hard, you draw blood.

“Don’t tell me I have to get you to moan now?” Charles stares at you with furrowed brows. You shake your head no before he kisses your knee. “Good.”

He makes sure you look straight at your reflection before he curls his fingers inside of you. You mewl at the touch. Your legs beg to bring him closer.

He lets out a light chuckle before repeating his motion. With sleepy eyes, you stare at the way your legs rest against his shoulders. You had painted your nails bloody mary a few nights before, in support of him and his team. Your face all fucked up singly by Charles’ long fingers and delicate touch, red lipstick all over your mouth from how heavy your make out with Charles had been.

To him, you looked like an angel.

You squeal as he presses his nose against your pussy. You grind against his face. He pulls away and you whine, looking at him desperately.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he reassures you as he moves up to kiss your cheek and then your pouty lips.

“Cha, please,” you beg hopelessly. He grins as he pushes your hair out of your face and runs his thumb across your lips trying to clean you up a bit.

You take a chance and wrap your lips around his finger, and you begin to suck. Expertly, you swirl your tongue. Eyes look back at him, almost challenging. He lets out a strained groan.

With all the willpower he has left, he removes his finger from your mouth. Nicely wet, he presses it back where you needed him the most.

“Thank you, baby, you shouldn’t have.” You cry out at the sudden size of his thumb now being inside of you. He switches out his thumb for his middle and ring finger. You throw your head back. All the back and forth almost has you blacking out a few times. Charles gives you a quick peck, fingers building speed, as he pulls your dress down a bit to release your plump tits.

Now he’s at a loss for words. Quickly, he regains his composure and starts sucking on your left nipple, legs squeezing around his waist as a reflex. One hand flies to the back of his head as one makes its way to cup his cheek adoringly.

He moans against you, sucking hard before moving his attention to your right nipple. The way you’re wailing against him has him painfully hard against his jeans.

“Yes, God yes right there, Charlie,” you let out as you grind against his hand. He detaches his lips from your chest as he smiles up at you.

“I’m right here, baby. Cum for me, yeah?” You let out the most pornographic moan as you finish around his hand. Tears make their way down your cheeks. Cleans his fingers, he shuts his eyes satisfied, before he towers over your body, pressing kisses all over.

You giggle. “That tickles." The 25 year old’s heart doubles in size at the sound of your fucked out voice.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up before the race?”

The race results weren't the best Charles has had, that’s for sure. Head hung, he makes his way to his motorhome. There he finds you on the tiny little bed, curled up, watching the rest of the ongoing interviews. As soon as you notice him you jump up to your feet and walk to him.

It's almost as if you knew how down he was feeling when you wrap your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. He instantly feels better as his arms swaddle over your shoulders, chin atop your pretty hair.

“You did good,” you mumble. You press a faint kiss on his suit before looking up.

“I fucked up. I got P7.”

You frown at him before holding his face between your soft palms. “P7 is good, what do you mean?” He just shakes his head. “You’ve never heard of seven being a lucky number?”

He scoffs, but not at you, never you. More at himself. “Lucky?”

You pull away and sit back on his bed. “Oh yeah, seven bring all the luck in the world!” you squeal, as you plop on the bed. He laughs lightly as he lies beside you.

“Guess I’ll just take your word for it.” He hums with his eyes closed.

You turn on your side as you try to memorize his face. Like the small mole that sits on the left side of his face that makes him even more handsome, if anyone asks for your opinion. You scold yourself for not having noticed it before. As if to fix things, you name it one of your favorite things about him.

“You should. Things will get better, you’ll see.��

For once, he really believes it.

You both are walking out of the Ferrari home when you're suddenly stopped by someone calling Charles’ name.

“Hey, Charles! Great race man!” A familiar voice rings through the air before you both have a chance to turn around. Both you and Charles, unknowingly of one another, want to make a run for it.

“Thanks, Lando,” Charles replies as he prays he might not notice you. But a girl as beautiful as you can’t go forgotten.

“Holy shit it’s you!” Lando wails as he instantly recognizes you from dinner a few months ago. You cringe. What the chances?

“Hi,” you squeak as you hide behind Charles a bit. You had no idea Lando was a Formula 1 driver too. You ought to do your research better next time.

“Mate! This is the chick I was telling you about over dinner last time!” Lando says, eyes almost popping out of his face from the shock he’s in.

“You don’t sayyyy.” Charles tries to hide it, though inside he’s freaking out as if he’s broken every FIA rule in the book.

“Hey, I want to say sorry for that night, I should have been more clear,” Lando begins to spill his apologies, as all you can do is silently stand there, accepting them all.

“Of course. Long forgotten,” you comfort the Brit. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy.

“Charles, I’ll wait for you outside, alright?” you utter as he nods. Once you walk out, he turns to Lando frantically.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was the same girl you were upset about!” he tells him. Liar. “You must be mad at me and I get it-”

“Nope.”

Charles stares back, caught off guard by Lando’s response.

“You’re not?”

Lando rolls his eyes. “I’m not. I just hope you realize what she’s capable of.” He leans in closer to Charles’ ear and Charles leans in too, expectantly. “I’ve heard stories, man…”

Charles immediately pulls away. “Okay, we’re done here. Bye mate!”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

But Charles knew you better. He saw the way you looked at him. The way you felt. You were different. Fuck your following reputation.

“Ready?”

When you got back from Miami, something had shifted. He couldn’t quite name the moment it had, but he was sure of it. He didn’t care though. He would put up with just about anything as long as that meant having you around.

“And then he told me to test the car again, said it was fixed. Fixed my ass!” Charles tells you over FaceTime. You were sitting in your bedroom, painting nonsense on a canvas. You wore some old overalls with loose space buns. Strands of hair would hit the paint from how messy it was.

“No way,” you say, not looking up. Charles smiles fondly.

“You look lovely by the way.” Though, you don’t seem to catch his affirmation for you. Your eyes are focused on something out of frame, in front of you. A quick smirk appears on your face but slips so fast that he almost begins to think he’s imagined it.

“Thank you, Charles,” you reply with a much bigger smile now. “Hey, how about I meet you at your house at 9? I’ll cook you a nice meal, promise.”

Like always, he knows he shouldn’t ask and also knows he can’t say no to you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

That night when you step into his house he notices things he wishes weren’t there. Like how your hair was a tad bit messy or how there were light bruises on your neck. He knows those didn’t come from him. He’d always been mindful to mark you in places no one else could admire, just him. Something bugs him knowing someone has seen them already.

“I’m so sorry I’m late." You rush in with bags from the nearby market, the one just around the corner from his flat.

“No worries. So, what will we be cooking, my little chef?”

That night you seem so infatuated by him, he truly thinks this all was his imagination. Maybe the wind blew your hair on your way here; he should have offered to pick you up. Maybe he forgot he had also marked your neck; he’ll make sure to be more careful next time.

He wraps his arms around your waist as you cut pieces of basil. Giggling, you turn around to peck his lips. Craving more from you, he lifts you up onto the kitchen island. He stands in between your legs as you stare up at him, ever a vixen.

As you lock lips, he picks you up, you yelp all giddy. He makes his way over to his bedroom, your lips lingering on his neck, he almost drops you from how good it feels.

“Careful, don’t need another wack in the face,” you mumble from his neck, light spirited. He rolls his eyes at your comment, but yeah, he should probably focus.

Finally reaching his room, he kicks the door open so hard, it flies and instantly makes a hole through the wall. You gasp as he groans.

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” he murmurs as he takes you to his bed where he drops you. You giggle as your hair covers your face, he makes his way to hover over you and brush it away.

“You know I would do anything for you?” he asks, tenderness lacing his voice.

You stare back at him with bright and eager eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

He smiles as he leans down to kiss you and you instantly melt into the mattress beneath you. He kisses you so fast, so hot, that it has you feeling lightheaded. I’ve been kissed before but never, ever, like this, you think as he slips his tongue as a quick trick. You moan with pleasure. He smiles into the kiss.

He picks his head up to get a good look at the angel the universe had ever so nicely sent his way. He caresses you gingerly. “Are you sure, chérie?”

You nod up and down eagerly, ready for more he’s willing to give. You are so desperate you would gladly take anything as long as it's from him. A flash of sadness strikes your face before it’s replaced with a warm smile.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he comforts you as he begins to take a step back. You quickly hold onto his veiny arm.

“I want to,” you confirm. You bring him back to you as you kiss him for the millionth time that night. Even that would never be enough.

His hands make their way to slip your dress off. Once you're left in your matching lingerie, you push him on his back and straddle him.

“Holy shit,” he nervously laughs as you started to unbutton his linen shirt. He pulls his arm out as you sloppily brush your lips down his smooth chest, fingers tracing his firm abs. Then, as you’re about to pull his pants down, he grabs your hands firmly. You glance at him, confusion written all over your face.

“Ladies first,” he teases. You roll your eyes, but still slip out a quick, okay, before settling under him once again. He kisses down your neck gently as you hum out, finding peace with his lips hovering your body. Every new kiss he places on your soft skin makes you feel thousands of butterflies. You’d never experienced something like this before, you’ve never felt so flawless.

Clumsy fingers roam your back as he unclips your bra then strips you from your panties. Seeing you completely bare has his dumbstruck. This is something he could easily get used to.

His hands make their way to squeeze your tits, your head digs deeper into the mattress as you release a soft whimpers. Charles grows harder by the second, already getting rid of the rest of his clothes as quickly as he can.

He tugs you closer to him by your legs. A laugh rolls past your lips. Resting both arms by either side of your head, he pushes into you. Synchronously, you both let out a moan. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he grips onto the sheets.

You feel so tight around him that it takes all of him not to lose control. You throw your arm over your face, face scrunched.

Putting his feelings aside, Charles leans down and plants a kiss on your arm. “C’mon baby, not again. Look at me.”

“I can’t…,” you cry out weakly, “...too big.”

“You just have to adjust,” he reassures you as he begins to move in and out of you. Your arms fly up to his neck and you grab on tight, as if he’s keeping you ashore. You moan loudly.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers as he thrusts deep inside of you. Your velvety walls feel like home to him and he never wants to leave.

You squirm when his cock hits your sweet spot. You yell into the nothingness and your grip on his hair tightens so much, he groans at the sensation. His hips pick up speed, and suddenly, he’s kissing you again. You whine into his lips, needy for more. Harder.

As if he could read your mind, that's exactly what he does. Your lips form a silent O as you stare at him with eyebrows drawn together. He just feel so fucking good.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, voice deep. You shiver at the sound. “God, you feel so good, you’re doing so good,” he praises you as he now looks into your eyes. You wail in response, too fucked up to form any kind of sentence.

“I love you so much,” he announces so suddenly, you almost push him away. He keeps moving rapidly as he makes out with you eagerly.

As you kiss him back you realize something scary; you love Charles Leclerc. You think you’ve loved him for a while now, but having never been in love, you didn’t seem to notice the feeling. But you do now.

“I love you, too,” you murmur against his lips. When he pulls away you notice you’ve never seen him smile so big. You like being the reason behind it.

He immediately pounds into you harder, not holding back anymore and you’re both a mess. You moan so loud, you’re almost embarrassed but Charles seems to love it.

“If you love me,” he pants, “then tell me his name.”

He continues normally, but you swear you feel your heart stop. There’s no way.

“What are you talking about?” you manage to spit out, but the way he’s handling your body has you seeing stars.

“Please,” a desperate look flashes across his face, “just tell me his name.” His watch covered hand makes its way to your clit and he pushes his finger against it. God, his fingers are so-

“There’s no one.” Liar. “There’s just you.”

With that, you flip him over so now you’re on top of him. Hastily, you start to ride him, making sure to move your hips just the way he likes it. His head falls back against the bed frame as his fingers dig into your hips. You bite your swollen lips in slight pain, but also, just by looking at his current state.

Cheeks slightly pink with sweaty hair covering his face. Long disheveled hair that you pressed him not to trim quite yet. What a sight for sore eyes.

“Please,” he chokes out, “just tell me his name and I swear I’ll never bring it up again.” He opens his eyes to look up at you. His voice hitches when he sees you hopping on his dick, tits bouncing up and down. You throw your head back and circle your hips much harder.

“Fuck.” Charles gasps as he reaches up to attach his lips to your chest. He licks before softly biting down against your bud. You exhale sharply. He then lays back and holds onto your hips harder before helping you move on top of him. Wrapped around him, the motion between both of you picks up so fast you start shaking your head no.

“Yes, amour, say it. Please just tell me before I lose my fucking mind,” he grunts as he stares down at your juices as they make the filthiest sound against his own.

“I swear Charles, I promise, that I have never loved anyone the way I do you,” you confess as you sink your nails against his chest, red marks instantly mapping themselves down.

“Beautiful fucking liar.” Charles smirks as he moves his fingers against your clit rapidly. With that, your walls clench around him as you cum so hard around him he can’t help but follow. You moan loudly as you fall against his chest as he groans lowly.

Trying to even your breathing, you grab onto his hand. Instantly, he brings it up against his lips. Just the touch of his makes you want to ride him until you can’t no more.

You meant what you said that night. Though you both should have known better. Being naive can’t always last forever.

“Then she left a note saying it’s best we just remain friends,” Charles reveals a few nights later over dinner. Everyone shares glances of empathy to the distraught Monegasque. Even Lando.

“It’s alright man, you’ll be over her before you know it,” Lando states as he shares a knowing smile. Charles bites down on his tongue knowing all this pent of anger wasn’t towards Lando. Not even for you.

He would like to say that he learned his lesson and that he should have listened to everyone, all the warning signs that glowed above his head. But he knows damn well he would do it all over again if given the chance. He would say, do anything, to change your mind. To make you stay, but people like you never settled.

Moping, Charles changes the topic as he begins asking how everyone’s break was. He didn’t really care, but he tried to pretend.

Out of breath, Oscar rushes over to the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he sits down in between Lando and Charles.

“No worries, mate, Charles was just filling us in on his expired love life,” Daniel fills in, nonchalantly. Charles immediately shoots a dry frown. Daniel shares an apologetic shrug.

“Oh. That sucks man,” the young Australian replies as he gulps down some water. “Speaking of love lives, you guys won’t believe it! I just met the prettiest girl of my entire life just now outside of the restaurant!”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine

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eddieschains · 1 year

Text

Dream Come True

Older!Eddie X Fem!Reader

credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the older eddie edit <3

Word Count: 2.8k

TW// 18+, age gap (reader is early 20s, Eddie is 50s), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation, face slapping, creampie, let me know if i missed anything!!

It was your parents 25th wedding anniversary. They liked to make a big deal out of it every 5 years, throwing a big party and inviting as many people as they could. You never understood why they couldn’t just go out to dinner alone to celebrate instead of dragging you along to hang out with their old friends. But he made it all worth it.

Eddie Munson. Your dads friend from high school. He was kind of old sure, but he was damn sexy. He had the softest looking long curly brown hair, peppered with just the right amount of grey. The perfect amount of scruff around his face, messy yet neat at the same time. And his arms and chest littered with tattoos.

He played in a metal band that your dad was a part of shortly in college, until he decided he’d rather marry your mom and start a family. Bleh. You had watched all the videos of their shows when he was younger, and while you should’ve been impressed by your dads skills as a musician, you could never take your eyes off of Eddie.

He was still in the band, constantly in LA recording or touring the world. He always made time to visit you and your parents when he was back in Hawkins though. You hadn’t seen him in about 5 years, the last time being your high school graduation, when he could barely keep his eyes off of you. You thought since you were freshly 18 he would finally take you someplace to fuck you raw, but that might’ve just been wishful thinking.

In reality, he didn’t pay much attention to you when he visited. Nothing more than the usual “how have you been” or “how’s school going?”. But, that wasn’t going to stop you from continuing to try and get his attention.

You opted for a short black dress, probably showing a little more cleavage than you usually would, some high heeled boots, and a simple silver necklace. You were in the kitchen of the beach house your parents rented, fixing yourself a drink while you waited for the guests so trickle in.

“Honey, can you greet people at the door and take their coats?” You hear your mom call from the other room. You roll your eyes before taking a sip of your wine and making your way to the door.

You spend the next 30 minutes welcoming all of your parents friends, frustratingly having to answer the same questions over and over and using your best fake laugh to laugh at all of their dad jokes. You were just about ready to leave and scream in the bathroom until you saw the black mustang pull up. Eddie.

You fix you hair and push your boobs up a little more before he makes his way to the door. “Sweetheart.” He bows his head, making his way into the house.

“Eddie.” You do the same. You ask to take his jacket and hang it with the rest. You decide your door duty is over once Eddie arrives, following him into the house. “This is nice. Didn’t know your old man bought a new place.” He says looking around, taking in all the little details.

“Oh it’s not ours, they just rented it for the party. Always need to make a big deal out of their love.” You scoff.

Eddie chuckles, “Marriage is a big deal. You’ll find that out soon enough.”

“No thanks. Marriage is just a big money grab. Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life with the person I love without the governments involvement? Plus it’s harder to get divorced than it is to get married.” You respond.

“You’re a smart girl. What are you studying again?” He asks, genuinely interested.

“Psychology. I graduate in a couple months.” You smile proudly.

“Ah you gonna tug at my brain tonight?” He laughs.

This is your chance to make a move, you think to yourself. “I could tug at something else if you’d like.” You whisper, a smirk on your face.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat. “Uh i’m gonna go say hi to your parents.” He practically runs away. You would’ve been embarrassed by your boldness if you hadn’t noticed the way his cheeks turned red and his legs shook at your words.

You take your place back in the kitchen, avoiding conversation with the large group of people. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Eddie grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Can’t stand being out there any longer without at least one beer.” You chuckle, mumbling in agreement. “When did your parents become so prissy?”

“Oh you mean they haven’t always been like this?” You laugh. “Dad got a promotion a couple years ago so I guess he feels the need to impress them.”

“You should’ve seen him in college, when he was still in the band. He was wild.” Eddie laughs, recalling the memories.

“As wild as you?” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side.

Eddie’s cheeks turn red, “I’m not wild.”

“You expect me to believe that the man who’s been rocking girls panties off for the last 30 years isn’t a wild one?” You step closer to him, hearing how his breathing changes. “I’ve seen what those hands can do.”

“Hey… stop.” You know he only says it because he should, not that he really wants you to.

You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling his ear down to your mouth. “But i’m not wearing any panties.”

Eddie lets a soft moan escape his mouth before running off. “I need to use the restroom.” You’re left in the kitchen, giggling and smirking to yourself, waiting a couple minutes before following him.

You put your head up to the bathroom door, listening to him heavy breathing and muttering curse words under his breath. You open the door, locking it behind you.

“What the fuck?!” He whisper yells. “What are you doing?”

“Oh I thought that was an invitation. You know, tell the girl you’re going to the bathroom, she follows…” You jump up on the sink, spreading your legs a little wider. “And then the guy fucks her brains out on the sink.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, trying his best not to look you in the eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But you want to, don’t you?” You jump off the sink, pulling him towards you. “Don’t think I forgot about the way you were looking at my tits at my graduation party. Or the way your eyes immediately went down to my thighs when I greeted you tonight. You’re a dirty old man, and I want to be your filthy… little… girl.” Your words send shivers down his spine.

“Fuck it.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours. His hands immediately reach for your hips, his fingers digging into them sure to leave marks tomorrow. You wrap your arms around the back of his head, pulling on his hair. He lets out a moan, and you take the opportunity to dip your tongue into his mouth.

He taste just like how you imagined. A mix of tobacco and mint, followed with a slight flavor of the beer he just drank. He removes his mouth from yours, moving down your neck, sucking on that sweet spot just behind your ear. His hands travel down to your ass, squeezing and slapping as he continues his assault on your neck.

You twirl your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into you as you feel the heat between your legs growing more and more intense. He backs you up until your back hits the sink, a whimper leaving your mouth. He lifts the bottom of your dress, exposing your naked cunt.

“Fuck. You weren’t lying.” You chuckle as he continues kissing and sucking your skin, moving further down your body. “You did this because you knew I was coming, huh? Or are you just that much of a whore?”

You moan at his words, loving the way he says it. “Oh you like that? Like when I call you a fucking whore?” You mumble an mm-hmm right as he reaches where you needed him the most. “God you have such a pretty pussy, baby. Mind if I have a little taste?”

“Please.” You whimper, and he dives right in. His tongue drags from your entrance, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, Eddie.” You moan out as his tongue flicks back and forth.

He licks you up and down a few times before focusing on your clit. Attaching his mouth to your aching bud, and sucking it like it was his last meal. You couldn’t speak. It was like he took away your ability to form any kind of words. You’d never felt like this before, never gotten head like this before. He truly was a master, and not just when it came to music.

The filthy sounds of his tongue mixed with your own arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You feel him bring his fingers up to your entrance, playing with it while gathering your wetness. He looks up at you, his mouth still on your cunt, looking for permission to keep going. You nod, and without another word he sinks two fingers into you.

“Oh my- fuck!” You scream out before bringing a hand to your mouth, not wanting to bring attention to what was happening in here. You feel him smile against your pussy, pushing his fingers in and out of you.

His fingers were thick enough, you had no idea how you were supposed to fit, what you assumed, was his even thicker cock. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, not relenting his attack on your clit. He moans into your pussy, sending even more vibrations of pleasure through you. He seemed to really enjoy eating your pussy. Maybe just as much as you were.

He starts to move his fingers faster, flicking his tongue across your clit searching for your orgasm. “Shit, Eddie- Eddie i’m gonna- fuck fuck fuck.” You can’t even make out a cognitive sentence with the pleasure you were feeling.

“Go ahead baby, cum for me. Cum on my face.” That was all you needed to hear before your legs were shaking, closing in on his head as yours was thrown back, cursing his name under your breath.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, softly to help you ride out your high. Once your breathing starts to regulate again, he pulls out, placing soft kisses on your thighs before moving up to your mouth. “You okay?” He asks, pecking your lips.

You nod, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Placing your hand on the crotch of his jeans, you can feel just how much he enjoyed that. You palm at his rock hard cock through his pants, while he moans above you into the kiss.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, continuing to press into him.

“Not gonna last. I need to be inside of you.” He moans, shuffling his pants off as quickly as possible, and you realize that you didn’t have to assume his size anymore. He was big. The biggest you’ve ever seen. Thick too. If you had to picture the perfect dick, he had it.

“Jesus christ.” You mumble, earning a chuckle from him. He spits into his hand, stroking his cock to prepare himself.

“Can I see your tits?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls the straps of your dress off, nearly tearing them, and pushes the top of your dress down so that it’s sitting on your waist. “Oh my god, we’re you created by the gods or something?”

“I was created by your best friend.” You smirk, reminding him of who exactly he was about to fuck.

He groans, twisting his eyebrows up. “Don’t remind me.” He places his hands on your tits, rubbing and squeezing them in circles before catching one in his mouth.

You place your hand on the back of his head as he licks and sucks on your nipple, his hand playing with the other before switching places. Once he’s has enough, he steps back, grabbing onto his cock and sliding it up and down your folds.

“Ready?” He asks as you nod furiously. He slides just the tip in, testing the waters. You wince as he stretches you open. It hurts only for a moment, but the earlier tongue fucking definitely helped you get used to it quicker.

He pushes more of his length in, an inch at a time until his balls hit the back of your ass. “Shit you’re so fucking tight. Could bust right now.” He moans before pulling out slightly, and pushing back in.

You grab onto his biceps for leverage as he picks up the pace. You pull him closer to you, pushing his hair to one side while your lips find his neck. He groans at the feeling, grabbing the back of your neck as he rapidly begins thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my god- that’s it, fuck. Feels so good.” You moan in his ear. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, along with each of your moans. He moves his hands down to your hips, using them to fuck you back into him.

“Who would’ve thought my best friends daughter would be such a filthy fucking whore? Sucking my cock into her pussy like this? God you feel so fucking good on my cock like this.” His words continue to egg you on. You can’t say anything other curse words followed by moans of pleasure as he fucks into you.

You start to feel your high approaching again, embarrassingly quick and he takes notice. He pulls your head into his, pressing your forehead against his. “You gonna cum for me again? Gonna drench my fat cock with your cum? Hmm, baby?” You moan in response, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words, tell me how good i’m making you feel right now.”

You still can’t find the words, and that’s when you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. “Say. It.” He growls, his thrusts speeding up as his thumb takes place on your clit. He rubs perfect circles on your clit while awaiting a response before slapping his palm across your cheek once again. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Say it.”

“Feels so good Eddie. Love the way your cock fills my pussy, gonna make me cum- fuck!” Your body goes limp as your second orgasm crashes over you. Eddie picks you up by your ass, moving your body against the bathroom door.

“That’s right, dirty slut loves the way I feel inside of her.” His body is keeping you up against the door as he continues to fuck into you with a hurried speed, chasing his own high. “How would she feel if I filled her up with my cum?”

All you can muster is a moan, receiving another slap across the face. “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes please Eddie, fill me up. Cum in me. I wanna feel you, please please please.” The overstimulation is almost getting to be too much as you feel a tear slide down your face.

Although, it doesn’t last long as he gives you a couple more hard thrusts before you feel his seed coating your walls. “Fuuuck.” He moans out, his head falling into your neck.

He stills for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his own orgasm before lifting his head to kiss you. He wipes your tears away before slowly sliding out of you and placing you back on your feet.

“You’re something else.” He laughs, pulling his pants back up.

“So are you.” You smile, fixing your dress. “Who knew old dudes like you could fuck so good?”

He shoots you a look, making you giggle. “Don’t tell your parents about this.”

You furrow your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah let me just go down there and let them know their best friend just fucked the shit out of their daughter.” He laughs before exiting the bathroom and returning downstairs to the party.

You wait a couple minutes to follow him, not wanting to be suspected of anything. You make your way to your dad, hoping she didn’t notice that you and Eddie went missing.

“There you are honey. Oh what happened to your dress?” You look down, noticing the tear in your strap. You look over at Eddie, seeing the biggest smirk on his face as he sips his beer.

“Must’ve torn it this morning putting it on.” You respond, avoiding eye contact.

“Well you should go out a jacket on, make yourself look a little put together please.”

You sigh, walking away. “Yes daddy.”

You walk past Eddie as he grabs you arm, whispering in your ear. “Yes daddy.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #older!eddie #older!eddie fic #older!eddie smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie x fem!reader

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eyesofshinigami · 2 months

Text

3, 2, 1, Fight!

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: Meet Ugly, Steve and Dustin are brothers, pre-relationship

Written for the STWG daily drabble prompt: not a meet cute but a meet ugly

This is not at all how Steve pictured his Saturday going. He could be anywhere, instead, he’s standing in a comic book shop, fighting over a toy with another grown man who looks like he’s going to beat Steve over the head with it.

“Let go!” the guy yells, trying to tug the action figure out of Steve’s hands

“No, you let go!” Steve yells back, yanking it back. He has to give the guy props, though. He’s just as relentless as Steve is.

The guy sputters, an attractive shade of pink coloring his cheeks as his curly hair falls in his face. Wait, what? “Fuck off, why are you even here? Don’t you belong in a gym or something?”

Steve scoffs, still yanking. “Does it matter why I’m here? Just let go already!”

Dustin had been asking for this action figure for months now, talking about it and showing Steve newspaper clippings and TV commercials. Steve, being the good big brother he is, promised their mom that he would do his best to get it for him for his upcoming birthday. He’d be damned if he was going to let some punk, albeit a very attractive punk, take it away from him. Why did they only put three out on the shelf anyway?

They play tug of war for another few minutes, until the bewildered clerk, who had been watching their exchange, finally butts in and says, “Uh, I think I might have another one in the back? Can you wait here?”

They both nod, neither of them letting go of the toy. “I wish he would have said that in the first place,” Steve grouses, watching the clerk disappear behind a door. “Why they only put out a couple of copies of a toy I will never understand.”

It’s Hot Guy’s turn to sputter. “Toy? TOY? This, sir, is the limited edition statue of Kas the Betrayer that Wizard of the Coast put out to celebrate the anniversary of his DnD release! Not that you would care about any of that, you troglodyte.”

Steve has no idea what any of that means. “Oh, so that’s why Dustin wanted it. Makes sense now. He loves that guy.”

“Wait, it’s not for you?”

“Uh, no? It’s for my kid brother’s birthday. He loves that Dorks and Dragons game and he ran a Kas… uh… campaign? Last year? It was his first time. Kas is kind of a big deal to him.”

The other guy starts to look a little contemplative, but that’s when the clerk appears with another, much less rankled looking box. Steve immediately lets the one in his hands go and takes that one instead. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

The clerk shrugs and heads back behind the counter. Meanwhile, Hot Guy tugs his hair in front of his face. “Uh, look. I’m sorry I said such shitty things over a toy. It’s just, Kas is kind of a big deal to me too. You could have just said.”

Steve waves him off. “No worries, I get it. But now we both have one.” He pauses and considers a second. It’s worth a shot. “You could make it up to me over lunch in the food court.”

Hot Guy’s eyes go wide. “Are you serious?”

Okay, wow. “Well, I was, but you can just say no, you don’t have to-“

“No, no, no!” Hot Guy says, waving his arms around, nearly dropping the box he fought so hard for. “No, I’d like that. Eddie,” he says, holding out a hand. That pretty pink flush is back. Steve kind of wants to see how far it goes down.

“Steve. Now let’s go, before any more wayward nerds decide they want to fight us over these.”

Eddie, dork that he is, bows and motions towards the cash register, “By your leave, my prince.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He always did like the nerdy ones.

#les writes things #steddie #stwg #demogorgon_dailies

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mountainsandmayhem · 5 months

Text

Stay Still, Little Dove

Joel Miller x Female!Reader

18+

Series Masterlist

Summary: Joel takes matters into his own hands to deal with your newly insatiable sex drive with a little help from a u shaped friend. TW: softdom!Joel, female orgasms (like a lot of them), oral (fem!rec), this is all about her A/N: THANK YOU for all the comments, likes and reblogs on my last story! I fully believe only 1 or 2 people will read these and I'm just floored by the response so far. I wish I could write without a plot, but I added some backstory about these two. Word Count: 4.3k

Ellie has always been a tornado in your life. Her biological mom was your childhood best friend. She had her demons, so you can’t say you were surprised when during her weekend trip to visit you with her new baby she disappeared, leaving you with little Ellie.

Overnight, you went from a 22-year-old young woman starting your third year of your degree to a 22-year-old adoptive single mom pushing through your third year of college.

Your parents were helpful, driving four hours from the small town you grew up in every weekend so you could work or do homework. They offered to take Ellie for a while or help you find people to adopt her, but that little tornado of a girl was your priority and you weren’t going to abandon her like her mother.

She broke her arm at 2 on her big wheel, and at 3 she needed 10 stitches across her eyebrow from when she tried to leap from the kitchen table to the granite island. Safe to say the granite won as she still bears that scar today. At 4, she bolted up the stairs to the high dive and jumped off without an ounce of fear. Thank god she was already a strong swimmer.

She seemed to crave chaos, so when she befriended the girl with wildly curly hair on her first day of school you just shook your head, predictable little tornado.

Thankfully Sarah Miller was a sweet and kind-hearted girl, maybe even a little shy. It also helped that Sarah’s young dad, who didn’t wear a wedding ring, resembled a Greek god. Tall and broad with tanned skin, he owned some sort of contracting business based on the truck he’d do school pick up and drop off in. When the girls introduced you two, he flashed you a small smile, revealing that goddamn dimple.

You’re both pretty sure the girls played a hand in the two of you eventually getting together, granted they both conveniently don’t remember playing tiny matchmakers. They’d ask for sleepovers and playdates almost daily, or sign you both up to the same shift at school events.

“Mommy, I swear on the moon that the teacher picked!” Ellie said when you had the coat check station at the Valentine's Day dance. “Buuuut you might want to put on lipstick.”

It’s been a little over 14 years since then and he still sets your blood on fire with that dimple.

Both of you approached this new empty nest phase apprehensively, but it turns out that having the house to yourself (with no risk of one of the girls walking in) opened a whole new set of rather kinky doors. Not that you were necessarily vanilla before, but while they lived there you didn’t have ropes and paddles hanging on your bedroom wall, or the hooks on your four-poster bed.

You also never would have been how you are now, bathroom door wide open in only the trousers you planned to wear to work.

“Not that I’m complainin’ sweetheart. But why are you topless?” Joel asks on his way to the kitchen.

“It’s too damn hot in here.” You grumble, getting out your skincare and makeup.

Joel shook his head to himself as he walked to the kitchen. He knew better than to bring up that it wasn’t the temperature, it was you and your recent perimenopause diagnosis. He hated to see you suffering, but your newly insatiable libido gave him an idea.

As you get ready, Joel leans against the bathroom door frame drinking coffee, observing you through the mirror.

You see him most days in his typical work attire - dark jeans, a t-shirt with his company logo, and a flannel or denim button-up. But it will never get old to you. You almost find him sexier in this than in a suit. Especially when he has the cuffs rolled like he does today.

“Little Dove?” His voice is deep and scratchy.

A slight blush paints your cheeks, knowing that it’s going to be one of those days.

“Yes, sir?”

He slowly walks towards you as you lean into the mirror to blink on some mascara. He stops just a hair away from you, not touching you but close. Close enough for you to feel the heat coming off of him. He waits until you’ve put the mascara wand away, and uses his free hand to trace a line slowly down your spine.

A shiver runs through you, and you let out a small moan. Partly from the feeling of him, but mostly at the reprieve from the hot flash you’re experiencing.

“How many orgasms do you think I could give you before you beg me to stop?” He kisses the top of your left shoulder, watching your eyes widen slightly in the mirror.

Goosebumps spread across your body. If he wants to play, you’ll make it difficult for him. “Well, after the little kidnapping the other night you gave in after three.”

“This is about you giving up and not me giving in,” His free hand continues a light trail along your bare back.

“And didn’t you say you felt like you had done an intense Pilates workout the next day?” He adds teasingly.

You were hoping he’d forgotten about how you groaned as you lowered yourself into the bathtub to soak your sore muscles. Even though your hormones seemed to think you were a teenager again, your body took a little longer to recover. Joel cared for you in a way that only he could; making dinner, wrapping you in your beloved heated blanket, and gently massaging your hips and legs.

You don’t want to give up this easily so you scoff and say, “Please, old man. You’d get tired before I’d quit.”

The next two things happen so quickly that it’s over before the excited squeal leaves your lips. He spins you to face him and lifts you onto the countertop, caging you between his arms, his hands gripping the vanity on either side of you.

“Now now, Little Dove. I’d be careful who you call old.” His recently playful tone is back to a deep gravel-like command that settles right between your thighs.

“You will refer to me as sir in these moments and nothing else. Do you understand?”

You nod eagerly sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, fuck you love him like this.

He kisses down your neck towards your right breast. Pausing he adds, “Words, Little Dove,” before gently dragging your right nipple through his teeth.

You let out a desperate moan arching your back into the pain, “Yes, sir.”

Joel quickly steps back, taking his coffee cup with him. “Be a good girl today.”

+++++

You spend your workday trying not to think about Joel. You immerse yourself in your to-do list and your team gets a few projects done early and sent off for approval. You’ve almost forgotten about the morning events when you hear your phone buzz.

Joel: When I get home I want you in that little black lacy thing, Little Dove. I’m bringing home dinner.

You reply with a funny ‘yes, sir’ gif.

Joel: Oh, my sweet Little Dove. I’m almost starting to think you like it when I punish you.

You: Do your worst, I won’t tap out.

Joel: Tell me what you’re going to be doing when I get home.

You find a photo of you wearing the aforementioned ‘little black lacy thing’ and attach it to your message that says, “Wearing this, sir.”

Joel: Be kneeling beside the couch when I get home.

You: Yes, sir.

++++

The rest of your day goes by tortuously slowly, yet the drive home seemed suspiciously fast. You laugh to yourself picturing a speeding ticket in the mail and Joel’s reaction when you tell him he has to pay it since it’s his fault. Maybe you’ll ask him when he’s in a sir mood.

You hop in the shower, shave and touch up your makeup before clipping and clasping yourself into the outfit Joel loves so much. As you step back to admire yourself in the full-length mirror you realize certain squishy parts of your body don’t look great in this.

Focus on the positive, you remind yourself.

The deep v-halter of the one-piece garment accentuates your breasts, you spin to take in the low cut back and high cut cheeky bottom that highlights the globes of your ass.

The familiar sounds of Joel’s truck pulling up the driveway sends a rush of nervous and excited butterflies through your stomach. You hurry to the sitting room, grab a throw pillow from the couch and kneel.

Your eyes follow as Joel heads to the kitchen, holding a bag from your favourite sushi restaurant. He places it on the island before looking up at you with dark eyes

“Look at the ground and put your hands on your lap.” He commands.

You can’t stop your eyes from rolling as you look down and do as he says.

“Little Dove, don’t roll your eyes at me.” His voice deepens with every word, instantly setting your core on fire.

He’s silent for a moment and you can feel his eyes on you. “From now on when I say to kneel, this is how you’ll be. Understand?”

You squeeze your thighs a little tighter, breathing starting to shallow at the sound of his voice as he slips deeper into sir mode.

You reply with a breathy, “Yes sir. Sorry.”

Joel walks over and pets your head. “You look stunning like this.” He whispers, before turning and leaving you alone.

His words feel like warm honey being drizzled down your spine. No one makes you feel as desired as Joel and immediately your earlier body insecurities vanish. You can hear him moving things around the bedroom before he walks back to the kitchen but you don’t dare look up. You’re a good girl, Joel doesn’t like brats, and right now all that matters is pleasing him.

Joel sets up dinner, arranges the sushi on plates, opens the wine and lights a candle before sitting at the table, legs spread, facing you.

“Crawl to me, Little Dove.” His deep voice washes over you. Almost as if it puts you in a trance. You know your knees are going to regret this in the morning, but you’re so turned on that you don’t hesitate to crawl across the area rug and then onto the hardwood flooring Joel installed himself.

Stopping between his bare legs, his strong hand cradles your chin and tilts it up, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and tight black boxers. But it’s the sleek black remote control vibrator in his other hand that steals your attention.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He says with a soft moan, gently stroking your cheek. “Go put this in, and then come back and have dinner with me.”

He helps you to your feet and hands you the vibrator. He turns you towards the half bath off the kitchen and pats your bum gently while you walk away.

Joel has laid out everything you might need on the counter. After cleaning the toy, you push the thin fabric of your lingerie aside and slide it inside yourself. You can already feel pressure on that little spongy part inside you that Joel loves to tease. As you wash your hands you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

I can do this, you say to yourself.

As soon as you step out of the bathroom and make eye contact with Joel the toy comes to life. Your false confidence from a few seconds ago buckles along with your knees as you brace yourself on the door frame and let out a breathy gasp.

“I want you to keep count and thank me for each one, Little Dove. Understand?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you moan, crossing your legs and squeezing your thighs, all while maintaining eye contact.

The vibration stops, you take a few deep breaths before standing up tall and walking over to the table. Always the gentleman, he pulls out your chair and kisses the top of your head before taking his seat.

“Eat while we go over some ground rules, Little Dove.”

You don’t have to be told twice, you love sushi and you’re probably going to need your strength for the evening.

“You are going to need a safe word tonight.” Your mouth goes dry and you become accurately aware of the small remote control in his possession.

“We are going to use a colour coding system, much like traffic lights. If I ask you for a colour tonight you have three options. Green means you want to keep going,” he emphasizes the word you.

“Yellow means you need a break and will let me know when you’re ready again. Say red and we stop.” Joel pauses and looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, sir,” you reply in between bites.

He picks up his wine and takes a sip before continuing softly, reaching across to grab your hand. “But baby, you can say yellow or red at any time. If you need a break or reassurance, say yellow. And if it’s too intense and you need me to stop, say red. We’ve done our research on this. But you need to know that if you say stop, or that you need a break, or even if you’re crying and saying I’m hurting you, I will not stop. Colours only. Understand?”

You nod while taking a big mouthful of wine, the nervous excitement that you’ve been feeling all day courses through your body. As your wine glass is put back on the table the vibrating starts again, stronger this time.

“You should know by now that you need to use your fucking words, Little Dove.” He says darkly.

“Yes,” you stammer. “Yes. I under….I understand, sir.”

The vibrating stops and you let out a breathy, Oh god.

You both eat your dinner and finish the wine, this man could give you whiplash with how quickly he can go from sir to family man. He asks about your day and tells you about the new apprentice he’s hired. When you both finish eating he takes the dishes to the sink. He turns to face you, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. The sleeves of his t-shirt stretch over the ropes of muscles lining his biceps.

“Little Dove, do I have your consent to make you come until you use a safe word?”

Again, the whiplash.

Your mouth goes dry as you reply with his preferred ‘yes, sir.’

The toy comes to life again, on a higher setting than the last 2 times. You lean forward so your ass is slightly off the chair to ease some of the intensity. You’re not a stranger to a vibrator, but never one that’s pushed this firmly against your g spot and your clit. The seat of your chair is clamped between your fingers as you cry out in pleasure.

“Don’t make me tie you to that fucking chair. Sit down, Little Dove.”

You do as he says, letting out a desperate moan as the hard seat presses the two ends of the u shaped toy deeper and harder against your g spot.

“Oh fuck - fuck - m’gonna…” you close your eyes and your head falls back as the white heat in your center starts to reach its breaking point.

Joel strides over to you and grabs your chin, twisting you slightly to face him. “Look at me, I want to see it when you come.”

“J-Joel,” his hand doesn’t leave your chin and he watches you with such admiration as you start to come undone.

“That’s it, Little Dove,” he whispers as he places a few kisses along your jaw towards your ear adding, “Let go for me.”

Your orgasm hits you hard, spreading from the base of your spine and out to every inch of your body. Wave after wave flows through you, intensified by the look of admiration spreading across Joel's face.

“There you go - good girl.”

Your fingers start to ache as you fight to stay seated in the chair, his wishes are your command and you’ll do anything to hear him praise you again. You squirm against the seat as overstimulation starts to take over.

“Please, sir,” you beg, “fuck! I need…I need to move.”

“So beautiful when you beg, Little Dove….count it for me” He says.

“One sir, thank you.” It comes out weak and breathy, a voice you didn’t expect after only one orgasm.

“Give me a colour, baby.” His voice is almost soothing as he torments you with the vibrator.

Current state aside, you’re not giving up or giving in after one orgasm, even if it is still coursing through you minutes later.

“Green!” You scream, shifting yourself off the chair slightly as he switches to a new vibration setting. Its intensity varies and shifts, and the anticipation of never knowing what might hit you next is a new level of wonderful torture.

Joel slides your chair out and kneels in front of you, pushing your hips back down to the chair.

“I will tie you down if you don’t stay still, Little Dove,” he growls before slamming his lips into yours.

A second orgasm tears through your body, your hands move to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you try not to move. It’s no use, the vibrations are too intense and you buck your hips up while your head falls back breaking the kiss.

The kitchen fills with your cries of ecstasy. Somehow you manage to count and thank him for the second one before he turns off the toy and pulls you to your feet. You grip his strong forearms to steady yourself, your pussy still fluttering against the weight of the vibrator.

“You have five seconds before I turn this on high, Little Dove. Unless you can make it to the bedroom before that.”

Your legs feel like jelly beneath you, but your competitive side kicks in and you sprint down the hallway as he loudly and authoritatively counts to five. You almost make it through the bedroom when you feel the most intense vibration hit your swollen g spot. You stumble forward, folding your upper body onto the bed. Your brain scrambles to catch up to your body as it processes that you’re not in pain but instead in a state of agonizing pleasure.

Joel walks up behind you, pressing himself against your ass. “You’re doing such a good job for me,” he praises before landing a hard slap on your right ass cheek.

Your body is suspended in that moment right before you come. You almost feel like you’re floating and the pleasure is so intense that you can’t even make a noise as you clench the bedsheet in your fists to try to ground yourself.

He uses his body to pin you down, folding over you and whispering “Give me a colour,” in your ear.

“Green” comes out in a shaky whisper.

“That’s my girl.” He says proudly, biting your shoulder blade.

Again it’s his words that do it, my girl, and you finally tip over the edge and tremble underneath him. Joel kisses and sucks the skin of your upper back, every inch of your body feels encompassed by him and crying out for relief, but you’re not giving in.

“Ah - fuuuuck…” you feel like this orgasm has been going on for hours.

“I wish you could see how good you look right now.”

“Stop. P-please. Stop,” you beg in between gasps of air.

As you come down from your high the vibrating slows to a small tickle, not enough to make you come again but enough to remind you that it’s there.

Can someone die from an orgasm?

“Take off your clothes,” Joel growls in your ear, slapping your right ass cheek as he peels himself off of you. “I’m not stopping until you use the safe word, Little Dove.”

He pulls his shirt off and watches as you undo the clasps and clips of your lingerie and slide it off with shaky hands.

As you lay on the bed you say, “I’m not a fucking quitter, sir.”

Joel smirks, laughing through his nose a little as he wraps a silk cuff around each ankle, spreading your legs apart for him. “How many are we at so far?”

As he cuffs your wrists you reply. “Three. Thank you, sir.”

He kisses your forehead as he slowly removes the vibrator. “Fuck me,” he says, “look at this mess, such a good girl for me.”

You close your eyes and let the praise wash over you like a warm bath. Joel shifts his body between your legs and places two little kisses on your swollen clit making you whimper and suck your bottom lip between your teeth.

He uses two fingers to lightly circle your clit making you come instantly with a whimpering ‘four, thank you, sir,’ at the end.

Joel doesn’t stop, switching to use his tongue while keeping the same pace and pressure as you come again.

“Ah - five, thank you, sir!”

….and again….”fuck, six. Thank you, sir.”

...and again….”s-seven - oh god - thank y-you, sir.”

Your skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as a cool liquid drizzles down your pussy. You gasp at the new sensation, eyes shooting to his face.

“Stay still, Little Dove.”

As he runs his fingers up and down your pussy, the lube turns warm and tingly, heightening his touches. Joel draws circles on your clit with his thumb, pursing his lips and blowing cool air. The warmth turns icy cold, and when he stops blowing, heat rushes to your pussy, pulling another orgasm from you.

Yes, I’m certain someone can die from an orgasm.

“Count, Little Dove.”

A whine escapes your lips as you try to tug your legs together. His thumb has slowed down but it’s all becoming too much. “Eight. I can’t anymore, sir.”

He blows cool air again and the heat rushing has you keening all over again.

“Please, Joel. I can’t. Please.” Tears spring from your eyes.

“You’re ok. You can do this, baby.” Cool air hits your pussy again and you come apart. “Good girl. So gorgeous. Count it for me, Little Dove.”

“Nine. N-nine,” your eyes slam shut as he pulls away from you. “T-thank you, sir.”

Before you’ve even finished thanking him, he slides his middle finger inside you, lightly massaging your g spot that’s still so sensitive from the vibrator. He pushes one of his strong hands down on your mound as he torturously works you toward your tenth orgasm.

“No…please. Sir, I,” you gasp as you try to pull free.

“I can’t,” the pleasure is almost painful at this point as the pressure from your arousal builds. He knows your close, he’s been dying to make you squirt again after the other night.

“Color,” Joel says tenderly, slipping a second finger inside you and hooking the forward.

You swallow hard against your sore and scratchy throat. You whine ‘green’, as you arch your back to try to ease the intense mixture of pain, pleasure and pressure that you’re experiencing.

“Stay still, Little Dove,” Joel pushes harder on your lower belly. “Give me number ten. Show me, baby. Show me how good this feels.”

You swear that everything stops, including your heart and time, as you fall apart under his touch and gush all over his hand. The walls of your pussy are clenching around Joel’s fingers and you can feel a puddle forming underneath you. You think you hear Joel praising you, but the sound is muffled by your gasps and moans. If you lived in an apartment your neighbours might think you were being tortured based on the loud cries coming out of you. Joel is sure that he’ll be making you a hot toddy to ease your throat later, but right now he’s hyper-focused on getting you through this orgasm.

As you start to come down his hand slows, “relax, baby.”

“Red. S-stop. Fuck Joel, red.”

Joel gently removes his fingers, shifting quickly to undo your restraints. You’re shivering and exhausted as he pulls you into his arms and away from the soaked sheets.

Everything Joel Miller does is done with the utmost care and attention, including aftercare. Your heated blanket is already warmed up, tucked near the headboard. He pulls it over you and places a featherlight kiss on your sweaty forehead.

“I got you, darlin’. Shhh. I got you.” He holds you tighter as you melt into him.

After a few moments of silence, you tilt your face up to look at him. “Are you okay?” He asks gently.

You bite your bottom lip to stop a smile. “Ya, that was - amazing.”

You laugh a little and tuck back into his chest. “Are you sure? I’m so proud of you for using a safe word, but I need to ensure I didn’t hurt you.”

You shake your head and fight to stay awake. “No…you didn’t” you mumble sleepily, stifling a yawn. “I’m great - just one minute…then I’ll do something for you.”

Joel laughs softly and tilts your face up to his. He presses his lips to yours gently. “That was for me, Little Dove. Sleep for a little bit, I’ll wake you up for electrolytes and food.”

The warmth of your blanket takes over, you whisper an ‘I love you’ just as you drift off, thanking whoever brought this beautiful man into your life.

++++++++++

Taglist: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut

#joel miller #pedrohub #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel tlou #fanfic #fanfiction #joel miller smut #daddy joel #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #dom!joel miller #soft!joel miller

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starry-eyes-love · 3 months

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Nursing

Masterlist

Pairings | Husband Joel Miller x Wife F!Reader, No Outbreak, AU, One-shot

Summary | Your six week old daughter, Isabell, is fussy and won’t settle down enough to nurse from you. Joel, being your soft and understanding husband (and an experienced father) soothes you and shows you how to relax. Who knew seeing Joel sing to Isabell, and whispering soft praises into your ear would help calm your fears at being a mom.

Word Count: 2.7 K

A/N: This is a super cute, soft, and fluffy story. This one has been living in my head for a long time because well, being a mom sometimes is super hard. And no one talks about the difficulties with feeding your little one. I just wanted a cute fluffy story with Joel being the best husband in the world. Enjoy :)

Warnings | soft!Joel, fluffy!Joel, fluffy story, descriptions of struggles with feeding (nursing), Joel reassures you and tells you how great of a mom you are, age gap (but no specific age stated), slight body description but nothing too specific (reader just had a baby 6 weeks prior), Joel sings a lullaby, original character reference (Isabell, your daughter), this is just super fluffy so enjoy!

“Oh, I know baby, I know.” Joel said, slowly soothing his daughter while sitting down in the rocking chair. “I know, the world’s so big and scary, and you’re just so little. It’s okay, daddy’s here honey, daddy’s here.” You watched Joel slowly quiet Isabell as he gently rocked her. He slowly hummed to her the same lullaby that he hummed to Sarah when she was a baby.

You sat in the room that was washed with soft pastel colors, the warmth of the June sunrise gently creeping in through the half shaded window. It was early, the world not fully awake to start the day yet. You wished for a few more hours of sleep, something that you haven’t seen much of these past 6 weeks. You sat gently rocking back and forth in an old sewing rocker, one that was handed down through the generations of your family. The gentle creaks that it provided soothed you. It reminded you of the days when you were little, when you were the one that was fussy and needed to be gently rocked back and forth. Now, many years later and an adult woman, it was your turn to try to soothe the fussy child in your arms, Isabell, your daughter.

The tiny bundle of joy that you held in your arms was the reason for the lack of sleep that you and Joel had received these past six weeks. And right now, she was struggling to calm and soothe herself yet again. She was exceptionally fussy at the moment, struggling to nurse, and she was letting the entire world know how frustrated she was.

Sighing at your daughter you softly said, “You know little one, for someone so small you sure do fuss a lot. You’re just like your daddy, always fussing, aren't you?” With that statement your daughter opened her eyes and looked up at you, tears streaming down her little chubby cheeks. You gently touched her head, full of hair that was dark and curly, just like her father. She was a blessing, a hard blessing at that.

Joel and you had been married for eight years, trying to have a baby for the last six. You two didn’t think that it would happen, especially after all the tests were done. They couldn’t figure out what was causing your infertility issues. Then somehow by some miracle, Joel convinced you to go on vacation with just him for two weeks. It was everything that you two needed, a nice and calm relaxing vacation; one where you had conceived your daughter by the end.

Joel and you had gone back and forth over names for months after you found out you were pregnant. The two of you couldn’t decide on a girl's name. Every name that the two of you came up with just didn’t feel right. You didn’t want to know the sex of the baby ahead of time, you wanted it to be a surprise.

Joel was hell bent on wanting a boy, swearing up and down that you were pregnant with a boy. Then when your baby came out, after 18 hours of hard labor, you watched your husband absolutely melt at the news that he gave you a little girl. You’ve never seen your husband cry so much in his life, tears of joy as he held his little girl for the first time. When she was all dried off, he handed her to you while he kissed you gently on your head, saying that God fulfilled his promise to him. At the time you raised your eyebrows at your husband, as Joel wasn’t a religious man. But it was within that moment that the name Isabell came into existence. Isabell, name meaning God’s promise. Both of you felt like her name fit the entire situation perfectly. She was your miracle from above, one that you thought you two would never be able to have.

You were so lost in thought, remembering your daughter's birth as you continued to gently rock back and forth, not noticing Joel standing in the doorway. After a moment you heard him say, “I don't fuss darlin’. If anyone fusses, it's you baby.” He was leaning up against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and letting out yet another yawn. His curly hair was unruly and messy, looking like he just woke up. He had on black sweatpants with a gray T-shirt, with faded words of ‘Miller Construction’ on the front of it. It was the same shirt he had on when you first met, when he proposed to you, and when you conceived your daughter. Now instead of being new, it was worn but had a ton of memories associated with it. And it was your favorite shirt to steal to sleep in. It was then that you realized you weren't the only one not getting enough sleep recently, especially at the worn out look on your husband's face.

Your husband, the amazing and caring man that he was, helped you out as much as possible with tending to your daughter. He was an experienced father, two girls that he still cared for. Sarah, his oldest, was biologically his and now was 16. Ellie, who was his adopted daughter, was now 14.

In Joel's eyes, Ellie was just as much his daughter as Sarah was. Ellie's parents, his best friends, had died in a car accident when Ellie was 10. Joel had immediately taken her in, looking after her, and had requested to be her legal guardian. He was originally Ellie’s godfather, was present when she was born, and loved her like she was his own. A year after her parents had died, after all the adoption red tape was finally finished, Ellie Williams officially became Ellie Williams Miller, his daughter. It was Ellie's decision to take his last name on adoption day, still keeping her original last name with it.

“No Joel. I don't fuss, but you do, a lot.” You said, teasing your husband gently.

Being a new mother was hard, it wasn’t like the storybooks that you remember reading as a child. No story talked about the lack of sleep, the emotional ups and downs, the worry of not knowing what to do, and the anxiety of being home alone with a brand new baby that you didn’t know personally as your husband worked long hours. Intimacy wasn’t present at all for either of you, exhaustion being the biggest culprit.

‘No sex for six weeks’ the doctor had told you on discharge day from the hospital. At first you were upset at that order, but now, six weeks later, you have no idea how you would have had sex anyways.

Your body was a complete mess, bleeding for the majority of the past six weeks, something that was normal after delivery. Your hormones were chaotic, and you still looked pregnant as your womb slowly shrank back down to normal size. Sex was the furthest thing from your mind, and your husband’s too. But now by the end of the six weeks, you finally were settling into a routine. Life was 100% different, that was for sure, but you were finally finding comfort in it.

You were shook from your thoughts once again by the baby in your arms starting to cry, upset at the world about something. “Shhh, it’s okay honey” you said, picking her up and patting her gently on her back. After a few pats she immediately started screaming and crying loudly. Tears started to gather at your waterline, frustration at not being able to soothe her.

“Gimme her,” Joel said gently, stepping forward after seeing you get upset. You got up from the rocker willingly and handed him your daughter, tears streaming down your face.

“Aw now come on baby girl, what’s the matter?” he said, gently bouncing Isabell in his arms. It was in that moment that she let out a wail, telling her father, and the world, that she was upset.

Joel looked over at you and said, “Breathe mama, it’s okay” as he tended to his fussy daughter.

“I don’t get it Joel, I’ve tried everything. I keep thinking that she is hungry, but she won't nurse.” You said, crying right along with your daughter.

“Do ya have a fresh bottle for her darlin’?” he asked, rubbing gentle circles on his daughter's back, trying to soothe her as she continued to cry. You went to warm up a bottle of breast milk.

The first two weeks of feeding Isabell was hard, she wouldn’t always stay latched as you tried to nurse her. The doctor had told you to get a bottle that mirrored a human nipple, to try to get her to eat as she struggled eating in the first few weeks of life. You took her struggle personally, feeling like you were failing as her mother. But your doctor, and Joel, had both reassured you that this struggle was very common for babies in the first few weeks of life.

That’s why everyone said nursing was so difficult. Not only did it physically hurt to have her feed from you every three hours for the first six weeks of her life. But the hardest struggle was whether she would be able to stay latched on. For you, nursing was something that you wanted to do but this constant struggle was making it hard, and making you very upset. You just wanted to feed your baby, and not feel like a big fat failure as her mother. That was something the storybooks never seemed to mention. Oh the joys of motherhood.

As you handed Joel a bottle of warmed up breast milk, you watched him try to soothe his daughter. Joel was an experienced father, and always knew just what to say or do.

“Oh I know baby, I know.” Joel said, slowly soothing his daughter while sitting down in the rocking chair. “I know, the world’s so big and scary, and you’re just so little. It’s okay, daddy’s here honey, daddy’s here.” You watched Joel slowly quiet Isabell as he gently rocked her. He slowly hummed to her the same lullaby that he hummed to Sarah when she was a baby.

When he got Isabell to quiet down enough to feed her, he gently placed the bottle by her mouth, encouraging her to latch. She slowly accepted the nipple, quieting once she got some milk in her tummy. All you could hear now was the gentle creaks of the chair, and her gentle suckling noises as she was fed.

“There you go baby, just like that.” Joel said, rocking his daughter as he fed her from the bottle of your breast milk, gently singing the lullaby now outloud.

“Bye-o-baby, bye-o-baby, bye-o-baby, bye-o-baby bye. Daddy still loves you, daddy still loves you, daddy still loves you, my bye-o-baby bye.”

As you sat there and watched your husband feed his daughter, you started to cry, but this time it was tears of joy. Joel was the most tender and loving man you had ever seen. So patient and understanding, and so soothing, not only to your baby girl but also to you. “Ya wanna try to nurse her again baby?” Joel said quietly, looking up at you sitting in the corner, arms hugging yourself.

“No you got her to eat and-”

“C’mon darlin’, let's see if she'll nurse again” he said, standing and gently walking down the hall to your shared bedroom. You quietly followed, not wanting to disturb the sleeping teenagers in the room down the hall. You had no idea how those two girls could sleep through all of the wailing your daughter just did, but teenagers could sleep anywhere.

Once you got into your shared bedroom, Joel motioned towards your side of the bed and said, “Take off your top darlin’, and sit down. Don’t sit against the headboard though, I’ll give her to ya once you’re situated.”

You raised an eyebrow at Joel, wondering what he had planned for you, but you followed his instructions without question. You learned quickly with Joel that when he gave you parenting advice, especially with a newborn, that you should listen to him. He raised Sarah by himself, since she was a newborn as her mother had died a week after giving birth to his daughter. You didn’t know much of that story, something that Joel never wanted to talk about, so you didn’t press him. You couldn’t imagine being a young single dad, alone with his first daughter, trying to raise her by himself after he just lost his wife.

“Ok, I’m all set” you said, while looking over at Joel who was swaying side-to-side gently, holding Isabell.

“Ok little one,” he said, speaking to his daughter. “You need to eat from your mama, cause your mama is only trying to help you. I love feeding you baby girl, but mama needs to nurse you right now, ok? Daddy will stay right here though, so no fussin’.”

Joel slowly handed Isabell to you after taking the bottle out of her mouth. She immediately started to fuss. You tried to silence her by getting her to latch onto you right away, but once again, she wouldn’t latch on, so you couldn't nurse her. You were just about ready to give up when you felt your husband grab you by the waist and pull you backwards, situating you hard against his chest.

Joel had removed his shirt before he sat down behind you, his back was now against the headboard. He wrapped one of his arms around your side gently, holding Isabell’s head as he whispered in your ear. “Baby, ya gotta relax, you’re so tense. C’mon mama, breathe.” Joel was slowly kissing you on your neck and bare shoulder, attempting to get you to relax.

“You’re an amazing mom,” Joel said, whispering in your ear. “It’s okay to be scared, honey. Hell, I'm still scared, even with raising Sarah. But that’s normal with being a parent. But this honey, ya gotta relax and trust in your instincts. Isabell knows what she needs, baby. She knows how to nurse, she wants to nurse. But ya gotta relax so she can. She’s hungry mama, and she needs your milk. So give her what she needs.”

Joel was gently holding Isabell’s head at your nipple, trying to encourage her to latch. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. When you exhaled you tried forcing yourself to relax, to trust the guidance from your husband. As soon as you relaxed, you felt your daughter latch on where she finally started to nurse. When you opened your eyes, you looked down at her and saw her feeding from you. She had the most beautiful big eyes that you’ve ever seen. You sighed a content sigh, especially when you heard her make the cutest little suckling noises that she did.

“She looks just like you with those big eyes,” Joel said, holding you close to his chest and kissing you tenderly on the cheek. You were silently crying, emotions taking over you once again. You felt Joel wrap his arms around your waist and slowly massaged your belly, while gently brushing away the tears from your cheek.

“You carried her right here for nine months,” Joel said, laying his large palm over the lower part of your belly. “You gave me the best present in the world, another beautiful baby to love. So stop your fussin’, thinking that you’re not a good mom. Baby, your body has already done miracles. And I'm damn proud to be your husband, and the man that gave you her, our little miracle.”

You looked back at your husband, at the tenderness that he was giving you, lip quivering slightly. Joel leaned forward, gently kissing you on the mouth. You parted your lips and allowed his tongue to have access to your mouth. He gently massaged his tongue with yours; slow, delicate, and in no rush to advance it into something else. His kiss said everything to you, that he was proud of you as a mother, wife, and person. But most of all, this kiss told you that you were his true soulmate, and that he loved you unconditionally. When he pulled back, he gently wiped the tears from your eyes once again. He pecked your forehead before leaning back against the headboard and taking you with him.

You sat there, your bare back to his bare chest, breathing together in unison, as your daughter quietly nursed from you. You couldn’t believe that 12 years ago, a simple ‘hello, what can I get you’ in a coffee shop would lead to having a family with the man behind you. It’s been a long and hard road, but one that was worth it in the end.

End story

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

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uva124 · 2 months

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¡ Valentino redesing!

We finally have the baby!

(This redesign belongs to the Wish Au "Kingdom of wishes", written by @annymation and illustrated by @emillyverse and me)

This will surely be the redesign where I have the least things to say lol, but I still have some things to comment on so let's go!

At first I hadn't thought much about how I would redesign Valentino, what I was sure of was making him more adorable and cuter so that everyone would want to have a goat as a pet, because if I'm completely honest, Valentino's official design in the Disney movie I didn't find it adorable at all (sorry Disney artists, I know they put effort into drawing and animating but I just didn't like Valentino's design)

(Do you get my point? He's just not cute or adorable, and the voice they gave him didn't help either, or the face idk ,but I thought the joke about his voice at the beginning of the movie was funny ¯_(ツ)_/¯)

So I made a mental list of things I wanted to do (which aren't many if I'm honest): -Make it fluffier and fluffier -Give him other clothes -Add even one symbol in your redesign

Anny sent me several references of goats and concept art, among them I found this one, which I based myself on mainly because 1-I have always liked that animals had moles or spots on their fur or skin 2-When I saw that on their clothes You could see the seams that joined the different fabrics, I realized that it coincided with Asha's redesign (on the sleeves) so I was like: "AWWWWW it matches his mom's clothes!"

In the end I only added a part of it with a different fabric because I didn't want to complicate the design too much, but I liked how it turned out, I added some symbols of the tattoos that exist in the Amazigh culture, which is also to protect the person (or animal in this case) of the bad influences that are around them

I also liked adding that little ball of curly hair on our goat's little head, it just looks so cute!

FINAL COMMENTS!

As I said, this is not very long, but I'm satisfied with how the drawing turned out, I wanted to try something new that looks like the lighting was a sunset, I don't know if it's noticeable but at least it turned out nice lmao, as a curious fact, with this drawing I realized how MUCH my sketches change when I paint them in detail

…..BRO HOW THE HELL DID THIS CHANGE SO MUCH WITHOUT REALIZING ME? (ESPECIALLY ASHA)

Well that's all for now, until next time! ✨✨

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gglitch1dd · 2 months

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@genkioo submitted: Elloo Glitch!! This is my first ever post submission I just have something I wish to share and maybe put your own spin on it :)) So it's Shoyo's 3rd birthday, he's about to blow out his candles and then he says "I wish to be big brother" Izuku then glances at Y/N all smug but Y/N isn't even phased. The elder boys sighing in exasperation "great, here we go again" 😒 Cut to Izuku having to seduce convince (doesn't take much convincing on his part) his wife to have just one more little sprout 🌱

Hehehe, This is a good one.

Warning: Mentions of a past miscarriage, Izuku's raging breeding kink, hurt and comfort.

"-Happy birthday to you!" You all sang as Shoyo stood with a bright smile, his hands on the table as he looked at the star cake in front of him. Your little three year old was vibrating with excitement, looking just about on the cusp of an anerysm as he seemed just about to explode in happiness.

You chuckled as you looked over at your youngest son. You ran a hand through his curly hair as you stood with your boys there together. "Make a wish sweetheart."

Your sweet little boy looked up at you with bright green eyes, looking so excited. He looked so much like how Izuku looked at his age. Shoyo squeezed his eyes. "I wish..." He took a moment. "I wanna little brother."

Immediately you stiffened at the request, your face growing hot as your face fell. That wasn't the wish you thought he'd make.

Shoyo blew out his candles happily blissfully unaware of his request.

You fought the will to look at your husband but you failed as you looked up at Izuku. Looking at you with a smug left sided smirk on your face was Izuku. He moved his eyebrows up and down which made you laugh.

You didn't even get to speak when you heard a.

"NO!" You turned to Toshinori who sat at the opposite side of the table. He gave your husband a pointed look. "Respectfully, no! There's enough of us!" He pointed out to the four of them.

Izuku leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, putting his hands up innocently. "I never said anything." he stated despite looking the most smug you have seen him in a while.

"Yah but you were thinking something! Mom don't let that man touch you!"

"That man!?"

"Don't touch my mom!"

"Y/N please!"

You laughed at your husband as you packed away Shoyo's birthday cake into the fridge. Izuku had been begging you ever since the kids went to bed for the both of you to try again. "Izuku, we already have four boys." You reminded him.

"I know but we could always have more! I'm rich!" You chuckled as you turned to look at your husband who was motioning to himself with a bright smile. "Come on, what's one more little sprout?" He asked needly. "I promise you Y/N, we have one more and I'll never ask for another one again."

"We both know that's a lie." You stated.

"I'll even get my balls chopped off!" You looked back at him with unbelieving expression, both of you knowing that be was lying. "Please!" He begged putting his hands together. Watching your large husband who was over two hundred pounds of muscle and fat, beg you for another baby was humorous. "Just one more sprout."

You rolled your eyes as you stood against the counter. "That's a lot, Izuku. It's a whole six months of sleeping less, another sprout to drive everywhere, to enrol in school, to take and send to university. It's an over twenty-year commitment, and don't say that we have the money for it." You pointed out, making him close his mouth at the point he was going to make. "You're still very busy as the Number One and training Toshinori. Balancing four children is already a hassle as is."

You turned away from him, moving to wipe the counter of icing. Now it wasn't the fact that you didn't want another child, you loved every one of your sprouts and wouldn't regret them for the world. But, you weren't oblivious to the huge commitment that they were.

Besides, you knew you weren't exactly getting any younger. With four boys, a loving husband and a blessed amount of money all at the age of forty-one, you were ready to hang up the towel and call yourself happy with your life. You were a whole lot blessed than you ever thought you could be.

Izuku walked up to stand behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, and you knew you were done for. Slow kisses moved up your neck over to your ear. "Please..." He whispered in your ear, pressing his large tall body up against you, pressing you into the counter.

You closed your eyes as you tried to keep control of yourself. You took in a deep breath. "Izuku..."

"You know how much I love it when you're pregnant." He spoke lowly into your ear. His hands moved underneath your shirt, moving up and down your side. "You're so radiant and beautiful," He kissed your jaw. You let go of the cloth you were holding leaning back against his warm body as he held you. "So gorgeous as you're heavy with my child. There's nothing sexier." He whispered. "How you always..." You felt one of his hands sneak their way in front of you to cup your sex over your cotton shorts making you suck in a breath. You could feel the heavy bulge in his sweatpants calling your name that was against your ass. "You always get so needy when you're pregnant, sweetheart."

Hell, you were needy right now. A part of you wanted to just bend over the counter and let him have you. It had been a while since the both of you took sex out of your bedroom, for obvious reasons. It was late, the sprouts were asleep or at least in their rooms. You really could just risk it.

You moved a hand to rub behind his neck with a sweet hum at the thought of it all. Izuku treated you like a queen whenever you were pregnant. He would take so much time off of work to make sure that you were okay with the boys and Inko would often be here for the last few months of your pregnancy to help around the house especially with the boys.

However a thought struck you that made you still.

"Izuku..."

"Hm?"

"I'm not as young as I used to be, you know." You whispered. You didn't turn to face him, you didn't even try. You were quiet as you stared off to the outside. "Especially after Hero..." Your voice was quieter and you felt your husband stiffen.

You had both suffered a miscarriage a year after having Hero, who was currently now five. It was a scary moment, not because you were both particularly trying for a baby, but because it had never happened before. You had never been at high risk nor did you even know you were pregnant or for how long.

It was a terrifying moment in your life because you didn't know what was wrong and caring for a one year old by yourself while Asahi and Toshinori were in primary school, you didn't know what to do. It was after calling Mina who was luckily at home with Sero, did you leave Sero with Hero and Mina drove you to the hospital.

You had never seen Izuku look so terrified in his life.

You both had Shoyo two years later and when you did, it was an anxious time for the both of you but you were both so grateful when he was born a healthy little baby boy.

You were both silent as you stood in the kitchen. It felt heavy for a moment before Izuku moved you to look at him. "My love..." You looked up at him, his eyes looking at you genuinely warm and gentle. "If... if you really don't want to have another sprout, then we're done." You saw his eyebrows furrow as he looked at you deathly serious.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "No, Izuku, if you want-"

"No, I am dead serious. If you don't want to have another kid, I won't ever bring it up again." He stated seriously as he looked at you. "I might be the father of our children but you're their mother. Every single child we conceive together, you have a special relationship with them that I will never ever fully understand. If you are willing, we'll do this together, just like we always do. Even if we're scared."

You felt tears in your eyes as you gave him a smile. Surprisingly, one of the most attractive things your husband could ever do wasn't his body, or his job or even the photoshoots he did. It was when he was a good and loving husband and even a better father.

You blinked, letting tears fall as you nodded your head. Izuku smiled as he pulled you into his arms. You held him like that, enjoying his warm embrace as you rest your head against his chest. You heard the steady thump of his heart.

"One more." You whispered, nodding your head. "One more and then I'm finished."

"Are you sure?"

"Yah. Just one more sprout. Besides... I've missed seeing you hold a baby."

You could practically feel the smile on his face. "Really?" You nodded affirmitavely. "So just one more sprout?

"Just one more sprout."

-Glitch1d

#submission #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #Midoriya Family Shenanigans #dilf midoriya #dilf deku #dilf izuku x reader #dilf izuku midoriya

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ash5monster01 · 2 months

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Ground Rules

Pairing: Angus Macgyver x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, just two first time parents trying to figure it out

Summary: Much to your dismay your shared child seems to take after Mac and his curious ways. You had heard the stories about his unique childhood and if you didn’t get it under control soon, your daughter was bound to follow right in his foot steps.

word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

When you had first started dating Mac there had never really been any rules. It wasn’t until you moved in together you finally had to put some in place. You had tripped over one to many contraptions and been a little too close to some minor explosions that had you deciding on no experiments in the house. After a minor fight he finally agreed and Mac followed that rule to the best of his abilities and you appreciated him for it.

What you had never expected was having a kid just like him. You don’t know why it never crossed your mind that it was possible for your child to have Mac’s intelligence. To be honest you wished you would’ve and you could’ve prepared yourself for all that was to come with a curious mind desperate to learn. You had heard all those stories about Mac when he was a kid, blowing up football fields and smoking out labs, but none of it ever really felt real until now. They finally felt real because your daughter had now taken it upon herself to do science experiments anywhere she can.

You had left for only ten minutes. That was it. Ten peaceful minutes to go out and do some minor yard work. She was reading a Nancy Drew book on the couch when you left but when you had returned, the eight year old girl had covered the kitchen in what looked like some sort of green foam. It takes your mind only a second to go haywire, panic setting in, fear of chemicals, and misdirected anger at your husband.

“Jackie! What is going on?” you rush towards her, making quick work of pulling her away from the mess.

“Elephant toothpaste, I saw it on TV and Dad told me how to make it” you were sure smoke was steaming out of your ears by now. As proud as you were for how smart your daughter was, these actions could become hazardous.

“Honey, I need you to tell me what exactly is in elephant toothpaste?” you ask as calmly as you can, keeping your voice even as if to not scare her off.

“Hydrogen peroxide, yeast, dish soap, water, and food coloring for some fun!” she claps excitedly, eyeing that very mixture on the kitchen counter. Now calming over the harmless ingredients you look at where she has some foam now stuck in her curly blonde hair.

“All that made a huge mess in my kitchen?” you ask, reaching for a dish towel and wiping away as much as you can in her hair.

“Well I tripled the recipe for a bigger explosion” she says as if the sentence alone doesn’t make your heart stutter. Letting out a deep sigh you stand back up and start to guide her to the bathroom.

“You definitely are you father’s daughter” you mutter, hands squeezing her shoulders.

“You should’ve seen it Mom, it was huge!” she cheers excitedly as you start down the hallway.

“Let’s get you in the bath” you tell her and she just smiles wide, clearly content with what she had just accomplished and you now had to clean up.

Once filling the tub with warm water you help your daughter step out of her elephant toothpaste splattered dress and into the bath. Offering her a bath bomb she keeps her curious mind occupied as you step out and figure out how to prepare yourself for the cleaning you had ahead of you.

“What happened here?” you find your blonde husband with an amused smile on his face, eyes scanning the green foam.

“Someone decided to make elephant toothpaste, have any idea where she got that from?” you ask crossing your arms and Mac looks up to find you are not as amused as him in this situation.

“Shit baby I’m so sorry. I didn’t think she’d actually attempt it, much less inside the house” he says walking over to you and you sigh, trying your best to not place all the blame on him.

“It’s fine, I just have to figure out how to clean it now” you say, hands reaching up to push the hair out of your face. It had already been a long day and the last thing you needed was this.

“It’s okay, I got it. I’ve done elephant toothpaste a time or two” he says, hands reaching to squeeze each of your arms, and you offer a weak smile.

“She’s gonna be trouble, just like you” you say with an accusing finger and Mac smiles before pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Maybe, but at least I know how to handle it. When I was blowing things up I never had anyone who understood me” Mac says and you give him a panicked look.

“I didn’t say anything about blowing things up” you tell him, head beginning to shake and Mac quickly stops you.

“I know but I happened to remove an entire football field once in my life. Maybe I can keep hers contained to a small park or something” he teases but you give him a stern look that says you’re not ready to joke about this just quite yet.

“How about no explosions and no more experiments in our home?” you say and Mac clearly mulls it over. You know he wants to cater to his daughter’s curious mind, provide her with every opportunity he could to learn, but could that be done at the expense of your kitchen?

“One explosion and experiments in the yard?” he counter offers and you sigh.

“No explosions and experiments small enough to not alert neighbors in the yard” you finalize and he nods with a grin.

“I can accept that” he says before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now where’s our little scientist, I want to applaud her”

“She’s taking a bath, you can say hi after you clean up this mess” you tell him, hands pressing against his chest and in the direction of the green foam.

“And what about you?” he asks, a small pout to his lips and you slowly press a kiss to them. The pout gone in seconds.

“I’m going to help her out of the bath and then we’re going to set some rules” you tell him and he nods, saluting you as you walk back to the bathroom to find Jackie hadn’t even washed her hair yet.

It’s only an hour later you finally have the small girl in fresh pajamas, damp hair combed, and sat between you and Mac on the couch. The Nancy Drew book from before is open on her lap and you finally give Mac a look to tell him it’s time to set some rules and create boundaries for her.

“Jackie honey?” you coo, fingers reaching to push away the book for a moment.

“Yeah Mom?” she says, half distracted and trying to chase the page as it moves away from her.

“We wanted to talk to you about your little experiment today” you tell her and Mac nodded, blue eyes finding his daughter’s matching ones.

“Yeah honey, just a quick chat” and at her father’s words she finally closes the book on her lap.

“We love that you enjoy learning new things. It’s amazing the things you already understand, but we need to set some rules” you tell her and a sad look flashes across her features in seconds.

“You made a big mess today, one that worried your Mom. So there can’t be anymore experiments in the house” Mac says and the girls is instantly defeated, a gasp leaving her mouth.

“But Dad, it was just elephant toothpaste. It wasn’t dangerous!” she whines and Mac shakes his head, staying firm and on your side.

“Yeah but your Mom didn’t know that. So there is going to be no more experiments in this house unless approved and supervised by one of us” he tells her and her lip instantly quivers as her arms cross over her chest.

“But you and Dad can do as many experiments in the yard as you want and he’s also agreed to bring you to his lab at work once a week to learn something new” you comfort the sad girl, arm wrapping around her.

“You promise?” she asks, hopeful eyes looking up at her Dad.

“Of course honey, pinky promise. We want you to grow and learn but science can be dangerous and it’s important we treat every experiment as that” he tells her and she nods even though you know she’s not entirely on board yet.

“Does that mean I have to tell you about the habitat I’m growing in my closet?” she whispers and you flash a worried look to Mac who is trying his best not to laugh.

“Well, why don’t we go find out” he says, standing and lifting the girl to dangle over his shoulder. The giggles and squeals she lets out are a stark contrast to the somber mood she was just in and you can’t help but smile as you watch them disappear down the hallway.

“Is that a toad?!” you hear Mac’s voice bellow down the hallway and you are quick to stand to your feet and rush down the hallway.

“Oh hell no”

Taglist: @mayfieldss

Comment if you want to be tagged in any upcoming Macgyver fics <3

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authoreetea · 6 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬

pairing ; conrad fisher x reader

summary ; the three summers that connected you to conrad

warning ;

note! lover inspired 😛 i tried something new and wrote it in reader's pov or your pov, hope u like it!

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

🩷🎀

The coastal town of cousins was alive with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore while the salty sea breeze brushes through my hair, it was the beginning of summer and I wasted no time going to the beach of cousins.

I sat there on the sand, reading cheesy and cliche romance books that twelve year old me longed for such love, which was then interrupted by a group of guys laughter.

I looked up to see three boys, one with curly hair, another with black hair and pale skin. Yet all I cared about was the boy with light eyes and messy hair.

With his messy hair and sunkissed skin, and the way the sun shone in his eyes. The way he pushed his glasses up every time it kept slipping off, or the way he runs his fingers through his hair.

I was shocked when they all walked towards me. I looked up at them confused, "Hi?"

"Hi, can you join us? we were about to play catch but we're short one person, and Conrad here was too shy to ask." The one with black hair asked, receiving a nudge in his rib.

"He thinks you're pretty! What's your name?" The curly haired one exclaimed, he seemed to be slightly younger than the other two. Red rushed to my cheeks as the two bicker in front of me.

I smiled at him, my cheeks red as roses. "I'm y/n, what about you guys?"

The three boys introduced themselves, the curly headed one as Jeremiah, the dark haired one as Steven.

Conrad, as I'd come to know him, he shared the magic of Cousins beach with me on all three summers we connected.

🧸🖼️

The summer when I turned 15, unfolded like a delicate dance between Conrad and I. Underneath the starlit sky, at beach bonfires and friendly gatherings, our eyes met in fleeting glances.

Cousins beach became a place where I visited every summer, thanks to my father and his intentions to bring some fun into the family. Conrad became my best friend since then, so did his family.

It was a battle in my mind everyday as I had developed a crush on my best friend, each day at Cousins it grows. Our feelings danced around each other with each step echoing each other's unspoken thoughts.

It was a really hot day at cousins beach and you were dying to go out and buy some ice cream. Just as you were about to call Belly to buy some, your mother stepped into your room.

"Hey honey, Conrad's downstairs, I think he wants to go to the boardwalk." She says with her warm smile that always insinuates something else.

I try to pretend annoyed and roll my eyes but my red cheeks and smile gives it away. "Stop with that look, you always do that with Conrad. I swear we're just friends, mom." I say, but my mother knew better.

"I didn't say anything, sweetie!" She says, laughing at my expense. I bid my goodbye and walked downstairs to greet Conrad.

He was there, by the living room with his tousled hair and a white tee and khaki shorts. He smiled up at me, adjusting his glasses as he walked his way to where I was.

"Hi connie, you ready to lose at all the games?" I grin, teasing him. He laughs at me as he ruffles up my hair.

"You wish, sunny." he said proudly as I swatted his hand away from my head. The nickname was something he created the day we watched the sunset together as I read him my Pride and Prejudice book.

I like that he keeps the memory close to heart the same way I do. Conrad was always thoughtful, he wasn't great at communication but he showed it in ways many couldn't.

At ring toss, Conrad was determined to win. Our tongues were stained red and blue from the slushie and snow cones we've had through the afternoon.

"Congratulations! You have won a price, which one would you like?" The guy said in a monotonous voice as Conrad finally won a game of ring toss. He thinks thoroughly before choosing the cutest little bear with a pink ribbon stitched by its ear.

He walked his way to where I stood and handed me the light brown bear with its pink ribbon. He sheepishly smiles, "Here, I got it for you."

In that moment I almost melted in a puddle of admiration. "Really? Thank you, Connie!" I said gleefully

He grins at my reaction, unbeknownst to me that he was giving me such an adoring look. "It reminded me of you, you know, with the way you always have a ribbon in your hair."

That alone made me feel all warm, Conrad is observant and he recognizes everything around him, and he noticed the ribbons in my hair.

🍒 🌅

I felt that this summer would be different. I wanted to make it different.

This was the summer I would admit to my feelings and tell Conrad, my best friend, that I was in love with him. I've read books about falling for your best friend, and I hoped it wouldn't ruin our friendship.

It was the night of the fourth of July, everyone was celebrating. Susannah hosted a lovely gathering at their house, and I had planned to confess to Conrad this summer.

Conrad was the one constant in my life, he was always by my side. His presence became a steady anchor, that makes everything in my life a little bit better.

Our group, the younger people, all went to the beach and had a little get together. Secrets were spilled, so were alcohol, and laughter was shared.

Conrad was right next to me, he had his arm over my shoulder as Steven told a funny story from the country club.

"You should've seen his face!" Steven says, and everyone laughed louder. Taylor played some music and ushered everyone to dance, and of course Steven was up in a heartbeat, inviting Taylor to dance with him.

I smiled at them, winking at Taylor. Conrad stood up and grabbed me to stand up. "Hi, dove." He said, a mere whisper.

We were so close to each other that I almost threw up, luckily I did not. "Connie, do you want to dance?" I say, eyeing him with a playful smirk on my face.

He chuckles, "I wanna talk." He said, a smile playing at his face.

It was night time, 24 minutes past nine pm of July fourth, a summer I will never forget.

"What's up, Con?" I say, brushing the sand away with my feet as I waited for him to say something.

"Look up, the stars look really captivating tonight." He says, but he wasn't even looking at the stars.

looking up, I smiled. "It really does."

"Just like you."

With that, I almost gave myself whiplash when I turned to look at him with reddened cheeks and wide eyes.

Conrad chuckles, as he reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through mine. "You know, the last few summers have been something special, hasn't it?" He pauses, looking down at our hands.

I nod, a smile forming on my face as I held onto his hand.

"Each day I spent with you I felt something more different, something that I can't quite put into words." He says, slowly inching towards me. I could feel my pulse quickening.

I sheepishly smile at him, "What do you mean, Conrad?"

He smiles, his hands coming near my face to tuck the stray piece of hair on my face. "I mean... I've fallen for you." Conrad says

His ocean eyes were staring into my soul, unknowingly our bodies were getting closer and closer.

I looked up at him, my eyebrows furrowed together. He continues, "I've fallen for you head over heals, y/n/n."

I took a deep breath about to say something when colors of red, white, and blue were in the sky.

Fireworks, I smiled. I had the biggest grin on my face as I looked at Conrad again, cupping his cheeks and pulling him into a kiss.

He was shocked at first but then quickly kisses me back, his arm entangled around my waist.

"I've loved you three summers now, Connie. And I want them all."

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heartsofminds · 2 years

Text

Blooming (II)

So instead he settles for an affectionate squeeze to the right side of her face with his palm. “I wish you weren’t so young.” or Bradley Bradshaw is emotionally immature and he knows it, but she just wants to kiss him.

Warning: Contains curse words, a failed age-gapped relationship, and sexual connotations. 18+ readers, only.

A/N: Welcome to part two of my new series, Blooming. Here we learn about Rooster and Hangman’s past and his lack of emotional stability. Stay awhile, and enjoy 9.1k words in honor of our favorite aviator’s birthday.

Read Blooming and Blooming III here.

Bradley knows he has a temper.

One that makes his face hot and his chest flush a deep pink. His ears are always scarlet and the vein in the side of his neck attempts to become four-dimensional. The voices of everyone around him become muffled and he breathes deeply through his nose. His view of his immediate surroundings becomes blurred; almost as if he’s underwater and opening his eyes without goggles.

And although Bradley knows he has a horrible temper, he also knows that he desperately needs to work on keeping it in check. It’s been a long time since he’s blown up. It’s been an even longer time since he’s felt so angry that he couldn’t breathe; his lungs feeling crushed and like he’s up in the air with no oxygen.

He doesn’t know who he inherited his short fuse from. His mother was the most patient and kindhearted woman on Earth and his father, from what he had been told, was an oddball who was so obnoxiously goofy that nothing would ever be taken seriously enough by him to set him off in such a volatile way.

And then there was Bradley.

Bradley Bradshaw, who already had a chip on his shoulder from his father’s reputation, his mother’s death, and the fact that his beloved godfather didn’t believe in him enough to hold his own that he pulled his papers from the Academy the first time he applied and refused to acknowledge why Bradley was so pissed at what he had done.

So that’s how he found himself in a class with people younger than him, literal infants in his humble opinion, and was embarrassed knowing that he stuck out the minute someone asked him how old he is.

He made friends there, of course. He even had himself something sort of a girlfriend too. Her name was Tanner, and she was a knockout; tan skin and curly red hair with freckles that dotted her skin like how craters kiss the moon. But she was only nineteen and here he was at twenty-four; hopelessly in love with her and treading in the dangerous waters of knowing that their relationship was going to inevitably end. Mostly because they lived in such different worlds.

Venus always looks close to Mercury until you realize that they orbit at different speeds.

And despite it all, he was ready to bite the bullet for her. He was ready to settle down the minute she said: “Go.” He was ready to do any and everything she wanted if she just as much as felt the need to ask him. She was his everything because he had nothing and he knew it was a dangerous game to be playing; putting all that trust and responsibility in a person, let alone a nineteen-year-old girl. But Bradley pushed this fear aside and realized that this was his new normal. With his mom dead and Maverick out of the picture, she was the sole proprietor of his grounding and he assumed that he would be her’s as well.

Bradley knew that he liked being comfortable and because he loved this girl so much, he was willing to swim in a sea of unknowns and discomfort. It was uncharted territory but it couldn’t be so bad. And boy, how that came back to bite him in the ass.

While he did trust her fully (well, three-quarters of the way if you were to be exact), Rooster knew that they probably were not on the same page. Reading the same book? Yes. On the same page? Maybe sometimes, but definitely not reading the same paragraph and he’s for certain they’re not comprehending any of the words the same way.

He knew she was young and still in college, a breeding ground for meaningless hookups and boozy frat parties, but he never wanted to be too controlling. He had seen enough of that bullshit in his fellow midshipmen. He had witnessed the kicking of walls when their significant others pissed them off or even the disgusting “locker room talk” that he assumed all guys grew out of after they graduated high school. But with each “Her tits are huge!” and “God damn I’d do anything to fuck her!”’s he hears when getting dressed after an intense training session, he realizes that a lot of the people he’s around are still boys and teenaged ones, at that.

And then the realization clicks again that man, sometimes it fucking sucks being so old.

But despite it all, Bradley knew that he wasn’t in control of her and couldn’t make himself have the heart to if he tried. So he didn’t loom over her the way that he would’ve liked to sometimes and understandably, he did get rather jealous every now and then. And he was working on being more open and communicating what he’s feeling when he’s feeling it or whatever his friend Phoenix was always on about when he came to her with relationship troubles.

While Phoenix’s advice did work and he had admitted to himself that the female pilot is more emotionally intelligent and sensitive than she ever let on, the fights and disagreements still happened despite him using her tactics. Sometimes he would find himself shouting hurtful things at her or refusing to speak whenever she was attempting to rile him up so he would yell at Tanner. She had told him once during a late night pillow talking session that she picked fights with him so she would have some reason to actually be mad at him.

But whenever he felt his cheeks get hot and his ears turn red while arguing with her about spending too much time with one of her male friends (for what feels like the eightieth time in the nine months they had been dating), Rooster remembered that he was yelling at a nineteen-year-old girl, with turquoise bedsheets and fairy lights all around him in a shitty dorm room with a nosy roommate on the other side of the door.

So while Bradley does have a temper, he learned rather quickly when to pick his battles. He took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. He clenched his fists at his sides and closed his eyes. His thumb rubbed circular motions over his pointer fingers and he would picture his mom’s face, bleach blonde hair, and ocean blue eyes giving him a soft smile and saying, “You’re alright! Just calm down, babycakes.”

When he would get like that he would always think of what his mom would do and he knew that his mother was the kindest woman in history and that she raised him well. He would always see women as an extension of themselves and not an extension of him.

Girls have their own brains and own consciousnesses and own sets of morals. Bradley recognized that keeping his unwarranted thoughts to himself was easier than letting them out and causing an F6 tornado of problems that were just a poor projection of his own unhealed trauma and insecurities.

And while this along with Phoenix’s pep talks helped him be the best man and boyfriend he thought he could manage to be at the ripe age of twenty-four, Rooster realized that he had some shortcomings and that he kept failing to realize one thing: That not every girl he’s with is meant to be his.

One thing that routinely had Rooster seeing red regardless of how much self-soothing or how much he tried to focus on his mother’s voice in the back of his head is whenever Tanner would visit him on base.

Jake Seresin was not shy in the slightest and Bradley was (and still definitely is) convinced that God put him on this Earth to see if he had a hidden brain aneurysm because he’s sure one will erupt from how much stress the blond regularly puts him through. And yeah, Hangman’s annoying, and yes, Rooster is definitely not one of his biggest fans, but his girlfriend’s wandering eyes on the younger pilot wasn’t Jake’s fault in the slightest. But since he can’t force himself to be angry with Tanner, he settled for directing his anger towards Hangman and God, did that make his blood boil.

He had already brought it up to her numerous times before; telling her that he wasn’t trying to be a dick or prove that he was an Alpha male. Just that the idea that she always seemed more intrigued in what Jake had to say or was doing whenever she comes around bothers him like no other. Of course, that started a screaming match with her face as red as a tomato and his breathing resembling that of a woman experiencing contractions, but he had thought they worked it out.

Well, shit, the make-up sex they had after was enough of an agreement, he had thought, but obviously not because it was happened again and this time, it was enough to make Bradley lose it entirely.

Bradley knew that their relationship was probably coming to a close soon. He had a sixth sense for these kinds of things and he didn’t know if his intuition was really strong or if he just had a propensity to worry himself to death, but he felt like he could always tell when people’s feelings about him had shifted.

Well that, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Tanner was losing interest. She didn’t remember the small things he had told her in passing like she used to and she never divulged much into her daily life with him over the phone anymore. She always sounded tired. Bored, even, and he couldn’t tell if she was bored of the conversation or bored of him.

He chose to ignore it. He chose to ignore the sounds of unfamiliar voices in the back of their phone calls. He chose to ignore the fake interest she had while giving him the little reactions people usually have when you’re talking to them. He had caught her a few times laughing at morbid things he would say, which proved his theory that she was hearing him but never really listening. He chose to ignore the fact that she never told him she missed him anymore or that all the letters she would send would be signed with her name neatly at the bottom.

She clearly had surpassed the need to declare her love for him with a comma following her signature on a piece of stationery paper.

Bradley chose to ignore all of this because living in denial is always better than having the burden of proof thrown in your face for you to forcefully accept it.

So as a last-ditch effort to mend the relationship before biting the bullet and calling it quits with her, he invited her to the base to visit him. He made a deal with himself; if it went well, he would leave it alone but if she seemed like she’d rather be strangled with barbed wire than be there with him, he would let her go.

When Tanner arrived, it was all butterflies and rainbows. She engulfed him in a hug and kissed his face like crazy. He didn’t remember her being such a fan of lipgloss when he had seen her two months prior, but he figures a lot can change about someone when you very rarely see them. So when she laid sticky cherry flavored kisses on his cheeks and neck, he didn’t question her on it and relished in the fact that she was there with him and that maybe, quite possibly, she was still in love and that this was it for him.

She’s eager to hold his hand and to listen to his stories about whatever bullshit he has going on at the moment. She even gives him a rundown of her current friend group at college and what drama is brewing between whichever group of people and how she found out about it and what she intends to do to prevent things from getting so insanely messy.

She’s basically glued to his hip the entire weekend. Her hand is always twisting their fingers together and the band of her purity ring (which has definitely been rendered useless since she’s been dating Bradley) rubs against the junction between Bradley’s thumb and pointer finger and fits like a cog in a wheel; as if it had always belonged there. She smiles sweetly at him, and he has her full attention whenever he speaks or walks into a room.

When Tanner asks to use the bathroom and insists that she can find it herself without his help, Bradley doesn't think anything of it. She’s a big girl and as much as he wanted to go with her so he could soak up every second of the limited time they had together, he had to be laissez-faire. He couldn’t control her and he knew that lurking around every corner would make her feel like a child.

So Bradley settled on passing the time by sitting down and relaxing. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows rested on his knees and his legs were spread enough to be proportionate with his torso. He tapped his feet, drummed his fingers on his legs, and fiddled with his watch. He knew that she was a slow walker with zero sense of urgency to her. There were some exceptions to that; those only being if she was running late for class and she had an exam that specific period or if she was horny beyond belief and was begging him to “fuck the shit” out of her on a shitty ass college dorm mattress.

It didn’t seem weird that fifteen minutes had passed and there was still no sign of her. As a means to prevent himself from worrying to death or pacing around the base like a fucking lunatic, Bradley decided to busy his mind by going over his ever-growing “to-do” list that he kept in the back of his head.

Despite all the mundane tasks and intrusive and borderline obnoxious thoughts he had going a mile a minute in his brain, Bradley was surprisingly an organized thinker when it came to remembering all the things that he had to do. He carefully sifted through his responsibilities and assigned them blocks of time and where they would fit in his day before he checked his watch again and realized that an entire forty minutes had passed since he had last seen his girlfriend.

Something was off, and the familiar impending pit of doom that often plagued his stomach made a reappearance as he sped walked up and down the hallways of the base.

She’s fine, right? The base is huge and she’s terrible with directions so she may have just gotten lost, right? And figured that he would come looking for her, right? She’s fine. She had to be.

And when Bradley rounded a corner and was met with a supply closet at a dead end, he paused at a loud thump that followed a high-pitched moan.

“Oh God!” he heard a breathy squeak from a female voice, “Harder, daddy. Please, I’ve been so good!”

The pit in Rooster’s stomach turned into a ball of fire. He recognized that wheezy gasp anywhere. Hell, he had heard it two nights ago when he had her face down in the backseat of her 2002 Ford Focus.

He should be the only person eliciting those kinds of sounds from her. He had a death wish for whoever was on the other side of that metal door, because one thing about Bradley Bradshaw was that you never messed with anything that was his.

Rooster kicked open the door with his fists clenched to his side. He knew his ears were bright red and he felt himself starting to sweat bullets through his uniform shirt. The anger was hot as hell, and if he was in a better mood, he would make the joke that hell was right in front of him.

Her blouse was unbuttoned and it's been shifted over to one side of her chest, her nipple poking out through the gaped hole the button was supposed to secure. Her bra had long been taken off of her and the denim shorts she had worn to the base are hanging off of a random filing cabinet that was stored in there; showing that they were taken off in a frenzy.

And low and behold, the man of his disdain (even more so now than ever before) was in front of her, hoisting her up around his waist and fucking into her relentlessly. His uniform top was unbuttoned and his slacks were limp around his hips.

The sudden kick of the door opening did little to interrupt them, but Jake noticed Bradley standing in front of them; a damn near homicidal gleam in his eye and his entire body flushed pink with red hot anger. And like the asshole that Hangman is, he sent him a smirk and a wink before leaning forward to suck a hickey behind the redhead's ear.

“You son of a bitch!” Bradley screeched, “I’ll fucking kill you!”

He barreled his way into the small and rather dingy supply closet. Bradley grabbed Jake by the collar of his shirt and pushed him into the wall. Jake sputtered a cough; the wind knocked completely out of him.

His girlfriend (or soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, really) shrieked and gawked her eyes in horror at the scene taking place in front of her. Bradley wasn’t supposed to find them, and he wasn’t supposed to know that the reason for their break up was because she was unfaithfully faithfully fucking another man.

Tanner buttoned her blouse as fast as she could and pushed her denim shorts up her legs speedily. She had been embarrassed and ashamed before, but this was a whole new level. Not only had she been caught red-handed, but caught doing something dirty and quite possibly something illegal.

Hangman had finally caught his breath. His blue eyes gazed up at Rooster with a gleam of mischief. He knew that there was no way for him to charm himself out of this one, and if he was gonna get his ass beat, the least he could do was have some fun with it.

Jake sits up, tightening his belt his head, a smirk still on his face as he pulls up his pants and tightens his belt. “Oh look, it’s Chicken,” he scoffs, “I mean Rooster. How are you, man?”

Bradley seethed with rage. His fist went straight to Jake’s eye, the impact making the blond pilot stumble back a bit. Jake had to admit, Bradley was one strong mother fucker and his eye swelling shut definitely proved his realization right.

Bradley paused, trying to calm his breathing a bit before speaking. He knew that if he didn’t get himself under control, he may actually fucking murder Jake Seresin and although that wouldn’t be half bad, he worked too goddamn hard to get kicked out of the Navy and face criminal charges on the base.

His ears were still glowing red and his breathing even heavier than before. Tanner stood in the doorway of the supply closet in shock and utter panic.

“Ooh, you’re lucky you didn’t get my good side, Bradshaw,” Jake taunted, “But I’m sure Tan over there thinks every side is my good side. Don’t ya, baby?”

And oh shit, Jacob Michael Seresin did have a fucking death wish and in that moment, it was evident that he really didn’t give a fuck what Bradley could do to him. Any opportunity to get underneath Bradshaw’s skin was a golden one, and Jake just couldn’t bring himself to not be an asshole.

And oh, how Bradley fucking hated that. He grabbed the blond pilot by the collar and yanks him up to stand. He was too angry to speak. Shit, his brain was so fried from all the heat his body was exuding that he couldn’t even begin to think of words to put into sentences that would even make any fucking sense.

“Bradley, stop! Let him go!” Tanner yelled, and all of his senses in his body are turned off except for his tunnel vision sight and his sense of touch. That was made unmistakably apparent as each blow delivered to Hangman’s face and torso kept coming and coming and coming.

Jake’s face was black and blue and he’s sure he has baseball sized bruises all up and down his upper body, but he didn’t care. He finally had another missile to add to his arsenal of things to fuck with Bradley’s head. The result of that alone outweighed the healing time he would need.

Eventually, a commander walks by and pulls Rooster off of Hangman, and that was how he and Jake and Tanner all found themselves outside of Admiral Gadson’s office to tell their accounts of why Tanner’s bra was in the hallway and why Bradley’s face was beet red and why Jake’s right eye was swollen beyond belief.

Rooster sat straight up and looked ahead, choosing to ignore the sounds of Tanner and Jake’s hushed conversation beside him.

So that’s how Rooster found himself on garbage duty (”indefinitely”, Admiral Gadson had said, but he liked the kid and felt bad for him, so really, he said it meaning two weeks) and with no girlfriend.

And yeah, Bradley Bradshaw definitely had a temper and was definitely naive. And as he’s picking up orange peels and scrubbing dried piss off of toilet bowls, he made note of two things: One, he desperately needed to keep his temper in check and two, he would never make the same mistake to trust a young girl like that ever again.

Man, does it fucking suck being so fucking old.

ii.

(Y/N)’s body is on fire.

She’s not particularly hot, per se, but she most certainly is flustered. And for once, the source of her panic isn’t from a deadline or an application or some bill she had to have transferred over from her college apartment to the new one she would be living in come fall semester for law school.

No, (Y/N) is on fire because of the sandy-haired pilot beneath her right now.

Bradley Bradshaw’s old Bronco was a lot roomier than she ever anticipated it being, but then again, she wasn’t that great with dimensions (Damn you, astigmatisms.) and she wasn’t big on cars or motorcycles or boats or planes or anything that supplied humans with transportation, really.

She had just been responsible for closing the Hard Deck by herself again and like clockwork, the handsome aviator wandered his way inside to tell her about how he had misplaced his sunglasses and despite the fact that they were closed, he just had to find them tonight.

(Y/N) knew it was a ploy for him to get to talk to her alone. The mischievous glint in his eye when the words came out of his mouth told her so and besides, his beloved aviator shades were practically glued to his face. So how the hell did he manage to lose them?

“Crazy how they’re basically glued to your damn head and you managed to lose them,” (Y/N) teases, rounding out from behind the bar to help Bradley search for the glasses, ”How the hell are you a pilot? Get lost often, too?”

Rooster shakes his head, his gaze falling on the floor and his hands finding the sanctuary of his front pockets. The smile on his face gives his true intentions away, but he’s unaware that (Y/N) notices this.

“Directions are different than placement,” he jokes, “I do happen to be smarter than a fifth-grader, you know.”

The joke sits in the air for a few seconds before (Y/N) realizes that she has a stupid grin on her face and that damn, he looks really good in the lighting of Hard Deck.

“Obviously not because you can’t do simple math,” she chides, “I’m twenty-one. Not ten, jackass.”

“Hmm,” he leans on the side of the bar top with a smug look on his face, “Couldn’t tell. That baby face of yours says otherwise. I think it’s the dimples.”

She scoffs and puts her hand to her chest. “Jesus, Bradshaw. Weren’t you just trying to take me out on a date last week? Now I’m in fifth grade?” she starts looking around the bar floor for his sunglasses, “Seems pretty fucked up for a Navy man, don’t you think?”

“Pretty fucked up that you know I’m in the Navy and have a rank but refuse to use it when you address me,” Rooster quips. He starts to look on the floor of the booths near the area (Y/N) is searching.

(Y/N) stands up straight and crosses her arms. She takes a deep breath before approaching Bradley, putting a hand on his chest and giving him her doe eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” she adds extra thirst to her tone, ” How could I ever can I make it up to you? I’m just so young that I don’t know any better.”

Bradley grins and takes (Y/N)’s hand on his chest in his and entangles their fingers. He looks down at their conjoined hands, his pointer finger running across her newly obtained class ring.

His tongue comes out to lick at his bottom lip before his gaze shifts from their hands to (Y/N)’s face.

“I can think of a few things.”

He reaches up to grab the side of her face and pulls her in for a kiss. It’s soft, sweet even. It reminds her of how grooms kiss their brides during their wedding ceremonies. His lips are soft and plush, she thinks, and that was the best goddamn kiss she’s ever had in her entire life.

(Y/N) detaches their lips and reaches up, taking both of her arms and looping them around Bradley’s neck. His hands move to her waist and he leans down to kiss her once more. This time he deepens it. The kisses are still soft and on target, never leaving her lips once at all. He’s not messy or miscalculated. It’s almost eerie, how his kisses are deep and starting to get rough but yet he was still thoughtful and delicate with her.

His tongue swipes against (Y/N)’s top lip, and she opens her mouth to let it enter. (Y/N)’s not super experienced. She’s only ever kissed her college ex-boyfriend like this and they had broken up the summer going into her Junior year so it’s safe to say that it’s been a while.

The sparkle in both of their eyes says the same thing, and she’s taking his hand in hers and leading him out of the front door of Hard Deck. He hugs her from behind as she struggles to lock the door, the kisses he’s planting on her neck making her giggle and lose focus.

“Stop it, Bradshaw,” she says between laughs, ‘Penny’ll kill me if this door doesn’t get locked which means you can’t keep coming back to get me alone because I won’t be allowed to close by myself again.”

Rooster giggles into her neck, his chuckle and the hairs from his mustache tickling her neck.

“I bet I could sweet talk her,” he says, landing another kiss on the dip of skin just behind her earlobe, “She doesn’t call me sweet pea, for nothin’.”

(Y/N) turns around and kisses him on the lips. “You stole my nickname, you fucker, so matter of fact, maybe I won’t lock the door because you can’t be trusted anymore.”

Rooster brings her face closer to his again. His teeth tug on her bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to make her wince.

“She was my aunt before she was yours,” he says, lips grazing over hers, “Remember to respect your elders, chick.”

“Well if you’re going off of that guise, I’m not sure how Penny would feel watching us make out in front of the door when she watches the cameras back tomorrow morning.”

(Y/N)’s statement makes Rooster back up and embarrassment washes over his face. (Y/N) had only ever seen the pilot with a smirk on his face; confidence and glee the primary emotions energizing his expression. To see him embarrassed was a sight for sore eyes.

“Let’s move our transaction to my car, hmm?” he asks, hands finding her hips. (Y/N) nods eagerly and Bradley takes her to the beloved 1977 baby blue Ford Bronco that he had inherited from his father when he had turned sixteen many moons ago.

He opens the passenger door for her before walking to the driver’s side. (Y/N) climbs in and shuts it, and the soft sound of metal falling on the floor of the car can be heard. She cranes her neck and moves her knees to the side to retrieve whatever had fallen from the force of the door closing.

And fuck, Bradley Bradshaw was either blind or a liar because low and behold, his “lost” sunglasses are in her hand.

He shuts the door to his side of the vehicle and a small smile is on his face. He doesn’t turn to face her just yet. He knows that she’s found them and if he’s starting to figure her out as well as he thinks he is, he knows that her voice will be pipping up from the right side of his car in three, two, one-

“You know, if you wanted to make out with me, Bradshaw you could’ve just asked,” she says, placing the aviators in his cupholder, “I’m not a floozy, but I wouldn’t have said no to you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks, turning to face her head-on, “And I don’t think you’re a floozy, baby. If so, only for me, right?”

He gives her a smile and the inky blue of the California night sky paints a mural for her eyes. She never thought she would be into pilots, let alone older men, but yet, here she is in the passenger seat of a Ford Bronco, trying to debate if she should leave him hanging and only make out with him, or go all the way.

He’s so damn fit and such a good kisser. The way he looks at her makes her mouth water and the way he teases her makes her so fucking wet. The ball is in her court and the hard part isn’t playing, but deciding when to start.

(Y/N) leans over to kiss him again and this time, she grabs his face with both hands. There’s a warmth in the pit of her stomach and a hunger in her eyes. Bradley reclines his seat with one hand and guides her over to straddle his lap with the other.

He thought he was way past the need for messy sex in the driver’s seat of his car, but you can never set expectations without some minor setback now, can you?

(Y/N) is so goddamn horny and ready for him. She can’t remember being this desperate for anyone, really, and of course, she’s had sex before but she never remembers it being exceptionally good. It was just okay enough to get by and she always figured that she had enough time to have all the mind-blowing sex in the world the older she got. She was only twenty-one now, for fucks sake.

Bradley’s as hard as a fucking rock and he doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline pumping through his veins at fucking in the parking lot of such a popular place or if it’s exciting because he has a knockout sitting in his lap, her clothed cunt (that he knows has to be absolutely soaked for him) grinding like hell over his growing erection.

He’s not been this horny since high school and if he was in a clearer state of mind (and maybe a better man too, he thinks) he would’ve opted to have taken her to dinner and then back to his place. At least there he had a bed and a couch they could fuck like rabbits on. Both pieces of furniture are government property technically, but then again, so is he until his service duty is up, so what even is the big deal?

“Fuck, chick,” he breathes, grabbing her hips to push her down on his hardened clothed cock even more, “You’re such a good kisser.”

She giggles into his mouth and fuck, he’s a goner.

‘Yeah?” she asks, grinding herself even more onto his erection. She lets out a small moan (one that she thought Bradley couldn’t hear but his slight chuckle of amusement lets her know that she’s been caught) as the layers separating her bare pussy from his denim-clad package catches on her clit just right.

“Yeah, baby. You’re a fucking knockout.”

This makes her smile even more. Their kisses are sloppy now, the constant grinding crafting a veil of ecstasy around them both.

“(Y/N)?” he asks. His fingers unbutton her shorts and starts to slide them down her legs.

“Yeah?” she answers. Her cut-offs are completely off her legs and on the floor near Bradley’s feet. The lilac-colored panties she had on were completely soaked where her weepy hole sat.

If it was under any other circumstance or with any other person, she would find herself flushing pink and attempting to hide her face in her hands. But her arousal and also the fact that she feels so secure in what Bradley is doing with her prevents that.

“Are you awake?” he asks.

She doesn’t answer him, just continues to move her hips in circles in his lap. Her head is thrown back and the pressure and slight burn his jeans are providing her hardened clit feels like a slice of heaven.

“Sweet pea? Are you awake?” he asks again, but this time, his voice doesn’t sound like his.

It’s too high pitched; too womanly.

“What the fuck?” she questions and then she hears it again, and the view of her surroundings starts to blur and everything starts to fade.

She’s completely pantless standing in a sea of black and then she hears it again.

“(Y/N )? I’m headed out. Text me if you need anything!” and she recognizes it as her godmother’s voice. And then it clicks, and holy hell, the idea of Penny finding her like this terrifies her.

(Y/N) shoots up in her bed, the sleep shirt she had worn completely soaked through with sweat.

“Jesus Christ,” she sighs to herself, palms rubbing at her eyes to help process what the actual fuck just happened.

And as she stands in the shower with the cold water running and the sunlight shining through the stained glass window Penny had in her guest bathroom, she feels ashamed.

She just had a wet dream about Bradley Bradshaw like a fucking teenager and shit, maybe he was right. She was too young for him to take her out.

iii.

Bradley was always surprisingly nervous.

As a pilot, he was a total adrenaline junkie and small things that make his heart race satiate him enough to get through the day. He was naturally inclined to panic but every time his stomach dropped or he felt like his heart would stop from how hard the muscle was pumping, it filled him with a sense of euphoria.

Pilots can’t be nervous wrecks. Especially naval pilots, and that was a lesson he had learned rather early. He picked this up through recounts of his Uncle Mav and Uncle Ice’s stories when they would be in charge of watching him while his mom worked the night shift. The mission impossible-like stories replaced his bedtime stories when his mom wasn’t home and Bradley never had the heart to tell her, but he would rather listen to Maverick and Iceman before he ever heard her rendition of “Goodnight, Moon” ever again.

But one thing was sure and that one thing stuck with him forever. Pilots can’t be nervous. Getting nervous would get you killed; whether that be shot down, captured, or ejected from your aircraft was up to the pilot and the cockpit was already small enough as is. There is absolutely no room for such a large feeling like nervousness.

So his entire life up to this point at thirty-five years old, he always found a way to dodge his nervousness. Is it healthy? Not really. Does it help? Well, not really either but he doesn’t really have much of a choice now.

Wanting to ask a girl he liked out on a date? Oh, the fast beating of his heart when he approached her wasn’t nerves, it was just because he liked her so much. She thought that him saying his heart “Beats louder for you because it wants you to hear how much you mean to me,” was endearing and Bradley knew he was lying and he was literally about to shit himself from the anxiety looming in his chest.

He was the starting pitcher for the boy’s high school state game? He wasn’t nervous, just excited, he would say even though the blown look of his pupils and the gnarly sweat stains near his armpits told everyone else otherwise.

He was getting ready for his promotion to Junior Lieutenant and had to be absolutely perfect and could not afford to fuck up under any circumstances? Bradley wasn’t nervous. He was just so undeniably ready to work his way up the ranks. But really, his palms were so goddamn sweaty he’s sure that he grossed out two Captains and one Admiral when he went to shake their hands.

And there are so many other instances that he could name and correct his nervousness for another feeling, perhaps.

Unbeknownst to him, Rooster Bradshaw never really knew that thinking about his feelings this way was unhealthy and was probably (well definitely, really) preventing him from being a fully emotionally intelligent man the way his mother would have liked him to be.

So no, Bradley Bradshaw didn’t get nervous per se but when the dark-haired pilot walks into a room filled with twelve of the best naval fighter pilots in the nation, he’s alarmed. Bradley is competitive, no doubt about that, but at the end of the day he can’t help but remain the team player his parents had raised him to be.

His “no man left behind” mentality had gotten him caught up numerous times before and his need to ensure that everything was fair made him known to be a stickler.

But is he nervous? Hell no. Just slightly worried; scared, even because when the nation’s best is sitting in a squad room with their flight suits on and no information about what was going on, whatever was to come had to be huge; even bigger than all their egos totaled together.

Hangman makes some shitty joke about Bob’s glasses; something along the lines of “four eyes” and how the Navy doesn’t need satellite cameras to spy on people. They could just look through Bob’s glasses and see all that they need to see.

It earns a few chuckles from the other pilots sitting around and even if Rooster was itching to talk or do something to occupy his mind, he absolutely refused to acknowledge Jake Seresin more than what was necessary.

Phoenix walks to her seat and “trips” on Hangman’s chair, tugging the leg back not enough to pull him out from under completely, but enough to startle him and make him choke on the words he was fixing to leave his mouth.

Everyone chuckles a bit before they’re made aware of Admirals Simpson and Bates coming to speak to them. Bradley straightens up in his seat. He was always so painfully self-aware and he didn’t need something else to pick apart about the interactions he had had today while he lays in bed at night.

They’re given the run down of why they’re all there which, in Rooster’s mind, is always the same.

They get told how talented they are and how well they perform in their roles. It’s always one big confidence boost before getting pushed off the cliff to the reality of the situation. Because they’re so good they’re going to be shipped off to play mission impossible, and because it’s mission impossible, there’s an even larger chance that they won’t make it back alive.

Rooster’s had at least twelve of these talks in the last ten years he’s been flying and before, the thought of being up in the air, unaware if clouds and a blue sky were the last things he would ever see scared him.

But then he kept making it back and he kept getting “invited” (more like ordered) to carry out more prestigious and dangerous missions. So no, Rooster isn’t nervous at all. There’s nothing new to the expectations he and his fellow pilots are under. The word “curveball” ceases to exist in the Navy’s vocabulary, anyway.

And as much as he tries to be respectful and attentive, his mind starts to wander and the evasive thoughts that he usually has take precedence over what’s currently unfolding in front of him.

He looks the Admirals in the eye, but little did they know that his mind was far from the pupils of the respected Navy men in front of him.

It’s not until he hears the word that he freezes. His heart stops. His blood runs cold. His ears start to glow red and he has to flex his fingers on both hands repeatedly to keep it together. He’s not felt like this since high school when he had to give his Valedictorian speech.

“Maverick.”

He didn’t know that the word alone would make his blood run cold, but it does.

It’s then when he realizes that fuck, he should’ve allowed himself to feel nervous every once in a while because he’s not even sure what feeling he’s feeling right now is even called.

He’s scared. He’s angry. He’s hurt. He’s saddened. He’s resentful, and he guesses that all of this can be added up and made to equal out to simply being nervous.

Bradley figures that Maverick feels the same way too because it’s obvious that his gaze refuses to catch his the entire time he’s speaking. He hadn’t seen his Uncle Mav in years, and he certainly wasn’t planning on the first time he saw him being today of all days.

It’s hard to believe that he was his stand in dad for so much of his life. He was the guy that attended his Kindergarten graduation. The guy who taught him how to shave his face and how to talk to girls. He was the guy who came to as many baseball games that he was able to fit into his busy military schedule and the guy who he practiced his Valedictorian speech in front of for weeks. He was the same guy who held him when his mother finally passed away and the same guy who let him sleep in his bed while he slept on the floor when he had nightmares after her death.

Maverick encapsulates what Bradley’s childhood was and even though he can’t help it and wants to hate him, he can’t stop himself from looking at his godfather with child-like wonder.

But then Bradley shuts that down as soon as it enters his mind.

Fuck that.

He was Bradley then. He’s Rooster now, and Maverick had his chance and blew it.

Pilots don’t get nervous because it can get you killed. But what they don’t clarify is that you can be killed physically or emotionally and Bradley is too damn prideful to figure out which one they really meant.

iv.

It’s been two days since (Y/N) found herself closing the Hard Deck by herself with the unwarranted help of Bradley Bradshaw.

It’s been forty-eight hours since he flirted with her and offered to take her out on a date. It’s been two-thousand eight-hundred and eighty minutes since he smiled at her and asked her how old she was. And it’s been one-hundred seventy-two thousand eight hundred seconds since he laughed at her and told her that she was too young.

And although two days isn’t a long time (unless you’re five years old and your perception of one minute is a literal fucking second) it feels like a lifetime and God, the counting and the flashbacks and the remembering has been eating her alive; even more so than her being bored.

The embarrassment of her recent wet dream is all consuming too, but she knows she’s too shy to ever utter that admission out loud. It’s one less thing she has to worry about, but five new insecurities and emotions she has to face now.

(Y/N)’s kept her eye out for Bradley the entire night.

She had seen the familiar gang of Navy pilots come in. Hangman had come in and sat with her at the bar for a little bit, telling her about his day and throwing in some cheap flirtatious remarks here and there. She has half the mind to ask him where his friend is, but from the interactions between the two she had clocked from the corner of her eye two days prior, she knows better than to do so.

Jake would probably laugh in her face and accuse her of having some school girl crush on Bradley. The blond was relentless with his teasing, and if he had come across a weak spot, he would use it until the river of discomfort it caused the other person ran dry.

“Don’t look so sad, pretty girl. I’m here now,” he had said, and all (Y/N) could offer him was a free beer and a soft smile.

But that was two hours ago and the fleet of Navy pilots had long since left Hard Deck. Jake had mentioned something about early training tomorrow morning and how he had to leave so it left no surprise that once he headed out, everyone else who was in Miramar for the same mission followed.

(Y/N) is slightly relieved that she didn’t have to face Bradley tonight. She knows that she has a tendency to ramble when she gets extremely nervous and the fact that she dreamt about dry humping him in the driver’s seat of his car definitely adds fuel to the fire of embarrassment that burns deep in the pit of her stomach.

It’s a Monday night and the bar closes at midnight rather than its usual 1 AM. Aunt Penny had let (Y/N) close the bar by herself for the past two nights so when she had slipped out with some excuse about Amelia (which (Y/N) knows is bullshit and that her godmother was really going to visit Maverick, but nevertheless she doesn’t call her out on it) it was decided that (Y/N) was responsible and ready enough to close on her own.

Even though the bar has been closed since midnight, (Y/N) can’t help but take her time shutting down for the night with hopes that the brunette pilot would show face before she turned the lights off and locked the door.

The jukebox had been unplugged and the glasses had been washed and set out to dry. The bar top had been scrubbed clean and all the napkin dispensers were full. (Y/N) even went the extra mile and made sure all the bathrooms had soap and paper towel because she was that desperate for stupid Bradley Bradshaw to come in and kiss her breathless.

She doesn’t think of herself to be a hopeless romantic, but she does have a tendency to hope for the best and sometimes the best isn’t realistic in the slightest. She would probably never see him again and he probably was turned off by how young she was. He was probably ready to settle down soon and get married and be a homeowner and have kids and the thought of something so permanent made (Y/N) a little nauseous.

Sure, she wanted to be a wife and a mom and a homeowner but that’s some day and not any day soon. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to live by herself with no roommates yet, so how could she possibly be ready for marriage or kids?

(Y/N) then realizes that she’s being extremely theoretical and that she should just turn her brain off and stop being delusional. Bradley Bradshaw was not walking through those doors tonight and Bradley Bradshaw was definitely not thinking about her the same way she was thinking about him.

So as she scrubs the bar top counter one last time before she gets ready to leave, she hears the bell above the front door go off. She has half the mind to look up and to yell out that they’re closed, but she stays quiet. She figures the person who walked in would take the hint and see the bar basically abandoned and would turn on their heel and walk right back out.

But when (Y/N) doesn’t hear the bell ding again signaling that the person had left, she puts the rag down and looks up.

And holy shit, it’s Bradley standing right in front of her with his arms outstretched and leaning on the bar.

He’s wearing a gray t-shirt with “NAVY” written in the middle and black running shorts. He has on Birkenstocks and his sunglasses are pushed up to rest on the top of his head.

“Penny here?” he asks, “It’s kinda urgent.” His eyes look around, taking in the surroundings of the bar and fuck, he may be too late. Matter of fact, he knows that he’s too late.

(Y/N) shakes her head. “We close at midnight during the week and it’s,” she looks at her watch, “Nearing one-thirty. You missed her by like two hours, Bradley. Sorry.”

Bradley shakes his head and locks eyes with her. His eyes are filed with so much emotion and she can almost see his subconscious drowning in whatever sorrows he was battling with internally. He looks hurt, scared even. It was totally opposite the fire and childish twinkle they held two days prior as he mindlessly flirted with her when searching for his wallet.

(Y/N) knows something had happened but she figures that it’s not her right to pry. She’s quite a private person herself and knows how annoying it is when people try and get into her head.

Some things just aren’t for other people to know.

“Hey, why don’t we go for a walk or something as soon as I close this place up?” she offers.

She only does because she knows that he needs someone to talk to and something to take his mind off of whatever was troubling him, but she also does it selfishly; knowing that this was also an opportunity for her to get him alone and actually get to know who Bradley Bradshaw is.

He offers her a soft smile. “Yeah. Yeah,” he says, wiping the corners of his mouth with his pointer finger and thumb, “I would like that. A lot.”

(Y/N) offers a grin and a light laugh before exiting the bar and turning off the lights. He opens the door for her and she locks it, putting the keys in her car before they head out to the beach near the strip of buildings where the Hard Deck is located.

The inky blue sky takes (Y/N) back to her rather embarrassing but hot dream about the Lieutenant and she feels her cheeks getting pink. She thanks God that they’re outside and that it’s dark and that he’s not really looking at her because her sudden flush would be hard to explain.

While they walk down the beach they talk about any and everything.

She tells him how she choked on a Lifesaver once in first grade and cried so hard that she threw it up. He tells her about how he sliced the back of his ear open in third grade from climbing on top of his kitchen counter and banging his head on the door to his mom’s spice cabinet. She talks about how she had totaled her first car when she was sixteen because she was riding an old lady’s ass and didn’t have enough time to brake before a turn. He tells her about the time he concussed himself from hitting his head on the glass of his aircraft because he wasn’t strapped in tight enough.

The silences in between stories is comfortable and his voice soothes her. Her heart isn’t beating out of her chest like she thought it would be doing. She’s not anxious or panicked. She’s relaxed and she realizes then that that’s what Bradley Bradshaw’s aura does to her.

They walk back to the parking lot of Hard Deck and he walks her back to her car.

He opens her car door for her and she teasingly gasps, “Oh, what a gentleman, Bradshaw.”

Bradley gives her a grin, “Can say my momma raised me right. Nothing but the best for you, chick.”

Chick.

It makes her tingly inside that he calls her that. It’s her nickname for him and although it’s kind of funky, it’s sweet, in a way. Well, she relishes in the fact that Penny calls her sweet pea still so chick can’t be so bad in comparison to that. Besides, what else did she expect from a guy who goes by “Rooster” casually?

“Told you I wasn’t cheap, Bradley. None of this should be a surprise to you.” She smiles at him and he steps closer to her.

He looks down into her eyes and his hands go up to cup the side of her face and for a second, (Y/N)’s heart stops. Is this really happening, or is this some plot to another one of her embarrassing wet dreams again?

Bradley wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her so fucking bad but it’s almost like there’s some invisible force preventing him from moving. He knows that that’s not true and that the force is himself because he tends to be his own worst enemy in situations like this.

So instead he settles for an affectionate squeeze to the right side of her face with his palm. “I wish you weren’t so young.”

And with that, he walks to his car and shuts the door, starting his car and sitting in it until (Y/N) decides to pull out of the Hard Deck parking lot.

He wishes she wasn’t so young and that he wasn’t so old as he drives back to his government supplied housing and little does he know is that (Y/N) lays in bed with a frown on her face thinking the opposite.

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