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roosterforme · 8 months

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How You Play the Game Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley wins a box seat ticket for the first game of the World Series final, he doesn't think his day could get any better. But when he's given a seat in the press box by mistake, he meets a gorgeous sports writer from New York. And he has one of the best nights of his life.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and smut (18+)

Length: 6300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Bradley was half asleep, sipping on his coffee while he drove to North Island from his house in the soft pre dawn light. He really hated these early training days that started at six o'clock and didn't end until after dinnertime. He'd be in the air all day, and then he'd probably be too tired to stay awake to watch game one of the World Series.

Everyone on base was excited that the Padres were playing the Angels. A Southern California showdown for the ages. Tickets to game one in San Diego were selling for almost a thousand dollars per seat, but the sports radio host Bradley was listening to was giving them away.

Bradley yawned as the host asked, "Who was the first major league baseball player to pitch a ball over 100 miles per hour?"

"That's easy," Bradley mumbled. "Nolan Ryan." And then he realized that it was 5:30 in the morning and perhaps nobody else who was listening knew that fact. "Huh," he grunted, reaching for his phone at a red light. He dialed the number and was shocked when he got through to the host.

"Good morning, caller! What's your name? Where are you from?"

"I'm Bradley. From Coronado."

"Do you have an answer for me, Bradley? Which major league player was the first to pitch over 100 miles per hour?"

"That would be Nolan Ryan."

"You sound confident in your baseball knowledge," the host replied. "Double or nothing? I'll upgrade your ticket to a seat in a box suite if you can tell me which team Ryan was pitching against."

Bradley smiled to himself as he pictured the boxes of his dad's old baseball cards that he still had in his garage. "He was pitching against the Chicago White Sox."

And just like that, Bradley was the proud owner of a suite ticket for game one of the World Series at Petco Park later that night.

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Your flight from New York to San Diego had been delayed so many times, you were a little surprised you managed to get to your hotel in your rental car and then make it to the game on time. At least you'd been able to start writing your article on the flight. Unless the game went into extra innings, you should be able to finish by your midnight deadline. Because if there was one thing the New York Times didn't mess around with, it was the hard cutoff for your submissions.

As you made your way to the media entrance at Petco Park, you pulled out your lanyard with your credentials and looped it around your neck. As soon as someone learned that you were a sports writer for the most prestigious newspaper in the country, they were either impressed or they did a double take. You were a freshly thirty year old female with a ten year career in sports journalism, and you didn't take shit from any guys about it.

In fact, you loved it when men tried to one up you. Because they never could. You knew more than they did about sports, you were an amazing writer, and you found pleasure in shutting them down. Preferably in front of their friends. And then they would inevitably try to ask you out. And you would shut that down, too. It was a game that you were very good at now.

As you were scanned into the ballpark by a security officer, you quickly made your way up to your assigned press box. You expected the heavy hitters to be there. And of course you'd be the youngest, and probably one of just a few women in attendance. As you climbed the narrow stairs and swiped your badge one last time, you opened the door and strolled past a table filled with food and drinks. And then you saw them: Carl from ESPN, Jack from The Chicago Tribune, Harold from the Los Angeles Times, and Quincy from the Philadelphia Inquirer. You would keep your guard up, because it was just a matter of time before one of them made some sort of comment about your ability to do your job.

The room was already filling up as you claimed a spot on one of the narrow counters where you could set up your computer and get to work. You removed your lanyard and tossed it next to your stuff, and then you waved to Raya from MSN Sports, the only other female in the room. When you turned to grab a drink and some food, you noticed the flash of a handsome face and a mustache. And then you stifled a scream as you saw and felt a plastic cup of cold beer meet your chest before soaking the front of you completely.

"Oh, fuck!" came the deep, raspy voice of the most handsome man you could remember seeing in recent history as he stared at your chest. You supposed it was a fair trade, because you couldn't look away from his face no matter what you did. He was hot; all tan skin, brown eyes, and wavy, brown hair. And the blush that crept in and colored his cheeks made him look boyish as he glanced up to meet your eyes. "I'm so sorry!"

When he swallowed hard, and his eyes drifted down to your chest again, you looked down as well. Great. Your light blue lace bra was plainly visible through your white blouse, and the beer was even dripping onto your jeans and your new, white Chucks.

You just shook your head and shrugged. "It's okay. Shit happens. But why did you bring a beer in here?" you asked. But he still looked so embarrassed and flustered, you decided to mess with him. "Who do you write for? I'll send them my laundry bill."

"Write?" he asked, and yep, that was confirmation that he had the sexiest voice you had ever heard.

"Yeah," you said, feeling a little flustered yourself as you reached for some napkins to dab your shirt dry. "Tampa Bay Times? Boston Globe? Oh Lord, don't tell me you're from Barstool Sports. I don't recognize you, and I'm pretty sure I'd remember you." That was a lie; you would definitely have remembered him.

"No," he said, watching your every move. "I don't write."

You laughed as his gaze flicked up from your chest to your eyes when you looked up at him. "That explains the alcohol, then. But why are you in the press box? Did you get lost up here?"

He smirked at that. "No. I won a radio contest and got a seat in a box suite. But somehow my ticket got mixed up, and they sent me a media pass instead."

"Really?" you asked, eyeing him up and down now. "I had to pay for a four year journalism degree for my media pass, and you're going to tell me I could have just listened to the radio?"

His laugh was infectious and his smile made you a little giddy as he held out his hand to you. "I'm Bradley. I don't think I could manage to write an article about sports, even if I was getting paid to do it. You must be very talented." You preened a bit at his words as you shook his hand. "And I'm really sorry about the beer," he added, gesturing to your shirt. "I'd offer to get you a drink or dinner, but the food in here is free, and you're actually working. So, I'll just stand here like an idiot and keep shaking your hand and apologizing until you tell me your name and tell me to stop. I'm really sorry about your shirt." He was still shaking your hand, and now you couldn't stop smiling.

You told him your first name and then you said, "You can stop shaking my hand now, Bradley."

"Let me grab you some water?" he asked, and when you nodded, he turned toward the bar in the far corner. And you took in his tall frame, broad shoulders and massive biceps which were highlighted by his Padres shirt.

"Oh no," you whispered to yourself, still mindlessly dabbing your wet blouse with some napkins.

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Bradley turned toward you with two water bottles, and thankfully this time he managed to keep the drinks in his hands. You were so fucking cute, and your wet shirt was doing crazy things to him. He couldn't stop smiling, and when you looked up at him and cautiously accepted your drink, you were smiling too.

"Thanks for not drenching me again," you said, tapping your drink to his. And then Bradley heard an older guy call your name, and you turned in his direction.

"Nice shirt," he shouted so everyone was suddenly looking your way. "That how you plan on getting an exclusive with one of the players? Sex sells now? I thought this was about the game."

Bradley was appalled that another journalist was talking to you like that, but before he could say that your wet shirt was actually his fault, you were shouting back at the guy.

"Harold, you couldn't even drag your sorry, old ass down to the field fast enough to get an exclusive with the mascot. I don't know how you're not retired or dead yet. Didn't you cover the 1922 World Series?"

Bradley watched Harold purse his lips at you before he turned away and took a seat. And when Bradley glanced down at you as you sipped your water, you looked completely unfazed. And he was ridiculously turned on.

"Damn, nobody should be messing with you," he said, thoroughly impressed. "You're an Ace."

You just rolled your eyes, but you looked very pleased by his words. He already knew he wanted to talk to you all night, but now you were setting your drink down next to your computer and opening it as you sat. "This is a boys club. Just a dick measuring contest. I can't let up for a second or I'll get steamrolled."

Bradley let his eyes dip down to your damp shirt as he asked, "I don't want to commit another beer related crime. You seem to know how this press box stuff works. Mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all," you told him as you licked your lips. "As long as you don't spill anything else on me."

Bradley eased himself down on the stool next to yours, and his knee brushed your thigh. He watched you filling out a baseball stat sheet while you opened up a document on your computer.

"So what was the trivia question?" you asked as you sipped your water again.

"Trivia question?" he murmured, watching your lips wrap around the rim of the bottle before you took a drink.

"Yeah, isn't that how you won the pass? For the box seat? Even though you're slumming it with the journalists now?"

"I wouldn't call this slumming it," he said, eyeing your pretty face. "But yeah, they asked who was the first pitcher to throw a ball over 100 miles per hour."

"Oh. Nolan Ryan. Angels versus the White Sox. Nice," you said as you smiled at him. Fuck. You liked sports. You wrote about sports. You were gorgeous, and you knew more about sports than he did. Bradley let his mind drift to peeling off your damp, white shirt and licking the taste of beer off your chest while you moaned baseball stats and ran your fingers through his hair. He could definitely get into that. He briefly wondered if you were going to be at the next game here on Sunday.

And then you were keeping the game stats in your notebook at the same time you typed up notes, and Bradley realized he had missed the first few pitches. "Oof, that was a sloppy curveball," you muttered as you peered down at the field before checking the overhead screen. "He's supposed to be their Ace."

"Nah, you're the Ace," Bradley said, and you turned to grin at him as your fingers brushed against his. There was not a lot of room at this little countertop, and when you tried to nudge his arm out of the way, he wrapped it around the back of your stool.

"How am I supposed to keep my stats with you taking up so much space?" you asked, but your tone sounded playful, and you leaned a little closer to him. "You're massive."

Those words spoken in your voice had his cock stirring. "Yeah well, not a lot I can do about that, Ace."

That grin was back as you tapped the end of your pencil against your lips, and his gaze followed the motion. "So what do you do, Bradley? I'm going to guess you're not a waiter since you can't walk without spilling drinks. And you're definitely not a writer."

"I'm a pilot. A naval aviator," he told you softly, running his thumb along your back and watching you bite your lip.

"Fascinating," you told him before returning your attention back to the game and scribbling down the pitch count. And that's when Bradley's gaze landed on your badge which was sitting next to your computer.

He recognized your full name immediately. "Holy shit. You write for the New York Times."

"Yeah," you replied, turning to look at him before pulling your lip between your teeth again.

"Ace. I recognize your name. You're the best sports writer in the country."

Bradley was blushing, he knew he must be, but your bright smile was focused on him, and he couldn't keep his fingertips from drawing lazy shapes along your back where his hand rested.

"You know me?"

He nodded and raised an eyebrow at you. "You're famous. I read your articles all the time. I downloaded the New Your Times app solely for you."

When you laughed and gently bit the eraser end of your pencil, Bradley groaned. "You're funny," you told him.

"You're gorgeous." The words were out his mouth before he could stop himself. He thought about apologizing, but then you leaned in a little closer and ran your pencil eraser up his thigh along his jeans.

"Stop distracting me," you whispered, kissing his cheek before returning your attention to your computer. Your lips had brushed the end of his mustache, and he could still feel the soft sensation there as you gazed at him from the corner of your eyes. This was going to be a long night for Bradley.

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Bradley had called you��gorgeous. He was playful, and he kept a smile on your lips. When he made a comment about the Angels' catcher, you told him, "You're completely right. I'm adding that to my piece." And he blushed that deep shade of pink again.

"Damn, Ace. I'll be thinking about your voice when I read your article tomorrow morning."

"Mm," you hummed, marking down another strikeout. "It would be fun to read it to you. I think you'd blush. The whole time."

His lips were parted, and he looked a little surprised. "It would be the filthiest of dirty talk," he muttered, and when you giggled, he grinned.

You had to bite your lip against the desire to kiss his cheek again. "World Series articles and pitching stats? That's what's gonna do it for you, Bradley?"

"Shit, how dirty can you make those pitching stats?" he whispered, thumb still skimming along the back of your shirt.

"You'd be surprised," you told him, shooting him an innocent look as he nodded at you.

"I'm sure I would."

The more you scribbled down in your notebook as the game progressed, the closer Bradley got to you. His big palm was warm on your back and you found yourself leaning into him more and more. By the eighth inning, his leg was pressed up against yours and he just kept getting closer.

"Ace, you're killing me," he murmured, taking your pencil and erasing the sloppy note you had written about the Padres relief pitcher. "Let me help."

You laughed as he rewrote your note very neatly followed by what you assumed was his phone number. Oh, he was a bold one. Very handsome, very funny and very bold.

Without a word, he handed your pencil back to you. "What am I supposed to do with that?" you asked, tapping his phone number with the pencil.

His breath was warm on your cheek as he said, "Save it in your phone. Call it. Text it. Let it know when you're in San Diego. I don't know, Ace. I just like you."

Your lips parted right as the Padres catcher hit a home run, and as everyone else in the ballpark erupted in cheers or groans, Bradley pressed his lips softly to yours. And then you tossed your pencil aside and ran your hand up along his neck. His lips were soft, but damn, his mustache was rough and you liked it.

You pulled back a few inches. "And if I text you, you're going to write back?" you asked.

"Immediately," he promised.

"Well then maybe I'll save your number."

He groaned softly as you marked down the home run. "Are you covering game two on Sunday?" he asked as the ninth inning started.

"I'm covering every game," you told him, letting your hand rest on his thigh. The soft noise he made had you scraping your fingernails softly along his jeans as he watched your hand instead of the game. "I'll be back and forth between San Diego and Los Angeles for the next two weeks or so, if they go to seven games. Which, in my professional opinion, they will."

After your fingers grazed his zipper, you watched his head tip back, the veins in his neck working as he swallowed. You were pretty turned on now, too. And the way he was responding to you was making things worse by the minute.

"I'm gonna have to drop a grand on a ticket to see you back here on Sunday, aren't I?" he asked as you shrugged and ran your finger along his belt loop. Then you released him and turned back to type a few sentences for your article.

"Listen," you told him without looking at him. "There's no guarantee I'm even going to let you have my number, so I wouldn't worry about that just yet."

He was quiet for a beat as you typed away, and then he said, "How about you let me buy you a drink for real? Right after the game tonight?"

"I have a deadline to meet," you told him, and he looked disappointed as he nodded. "But my article is almost done. And my hotel is right across the street. We could go to the bar there?"

"Absolutely," he murmured, his fingers still at your back. "Anywhere you want."

As soon as the game ended with a Padres victory, you tossed your computer and notebook into your bag, and you were on your feet next to Bradley. "Let's get out of here."

You took his big hand in yours, glancing up at him occasionally as you tried to beat most of the crowd to the exit. And each time, he was looking back at you, smiling. You led him across the parking lot, and your hotel was in sight when you pushed him up against the brick wall outside of the ballpark. Bradley welcomed your body against his, and he looked at you like he couldn't believe this was happening just before you kissed him.

It was dark over here, even the streetlights were dim. His hands were on your back as your fingers tangled in his hair, and you were rubbing yourself gently against him.

"Ace," he grunted against your lips. "You gotta let me buy you that drink."

You could feel him growing harder for you as you kissed him and tasted his tongue. Suddenly the hotel bar was the farthest thing from your mind. It had been replaced by thoughts of your hotel room bed instead.

"Come on, Bradley," you whispered, linking your fingers with his and leading him further down the sidewalk. He went with you willingly, leaning down to kiss your cheek and your neck as you waited in a crowd of people for the light to change at the crosswalk.

"You smell good. Like the beer I spilled on you," he groaned, holding you close. The movement of his lips had his mustache prickling your neck. You wanted to feel it on all your sensitive skin. You wanted to see if you could make him blush in bed.

You and he stumbled across the street and into the hotel lobby where you eyed the bar as he wrapped his big hand around your waist. You looked up at him and asked, "Wanna skip the bar and go up to my room? Find out if I taste good like the beer, too?"

The sound of Bradley's groan as his hand slid down to your butt had you pressing yourself against his thigh. "Lead the way, Ace."

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The elevator ride to the top floor was filled with the sound of kissing as well as the little gasping noises you made. Your hands were at the fly of his jeans as he pushed you back against the wall and devoured your mouth. Bradley was so hard and ready for you, he was honestly surprised. He just met you. This was not a usual occurrence for him.

"Bradley," you moaned, unbuttoning his jeans as the elevator jolted to a stop. You abandoned his jeans for his hand and pulled him down the hallway, running toward your room and laughing. You stopped in front of one of the doors and started to dig in your bag.

He stood behind you and ran his lips along your neck as you gasped for him. You were so responsive, stroking something deep down inside of Bradley every time you reacted to him. He wrapped his hands around to the front of your jeans and started to play with your button as well. When his fingers met the soft skin of your belly, your head tipped back against him.

"I can't find my room key," you moaned as he ran his hands up inside your shirt. He watched as you gripped the bag with both hands and let your eyes drift closed.

"You're not really trying very hard, Baby," he said with a smirk. He couldn't believe you right now. So pretty and so lost to his touch. He was throbbing and aching for you, too.

"Because you're teasing me!" you complained with a laugh. But then you turned in his arms, and suddenly Bradley's hands were on your bare back. Your eyes were wide, bag clutched between your body and his. "This is... not something that I usually do. Especially not when I'm on the job." Your voice was soft, and as you nervously bit your lip, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"Same, Ace," he promised with a smirk. "In fact, I've never had a woman seduce me this quickly before. You're irresistible."

Your laughter was the best thing he had ever heard. "I thought I was the one being seduced here?"

"No," he said, reaching into your bag and plucking out the key. "You're in charge." He handed it to you, and you wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck and kissed him hard before you turned and unlocked the door with your other hand. You pulled Bradley with you as you stumbled backwards into the dark room.

As you searched blindly for the light switch, you pushed Bradley against the wall. You had your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and your tongue was in his mouth as you located the switch.

"That's better," you mumbled breathlessly as you turned on the light, and Bradley pulled away from you a few inches.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he whispered as he tightened his right arm around your waist. He wasn't being shy about how hard he was for you, and you weren't being shy either. You whimpered as you rubbed yourself gently against him, and he ran his thumb along your cheek and down to your lips. "I haven't been this turned on in so long."

Then Bradley watched you reach down and pull off your white shirt in one smooth motion, leaving you in that sinful looking blue bra before him. You were stroking him through his jeans with your right hand when you whispered, "I thought you were going to taste me, Bradley." Your eyes were wide and innocent looking as you challenged him.

He nodded slowly. "I wanna taste you everywhere." Then he scooped you up as you laughed, and he carried you to the king sized bed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "You gonna let me do that?"

"Yes," you whispered right next to his ear, and Bradley eased you down onto the bed with his body weight on top of you. As you started tugging on his Padres shirt, he managed to remove his shoes before reaching down both of your calves and yanking yours off. He tossed them blindly behind himself, wincing as he hit the wall with both of them.

But you just laughed and pulled his tee shirt up, leaving him in his white tank. You were holding his shirt in your hand as he pressed his lips to yours. "You taste so good here," he whispered, running his tongue along your bottom lip as you wrapped your leg around his hip. Then he kissed your chest before licking a stripe across the top of your lace bra as you bucked your core against him. "Fuck," he groaned. He licked and sucked on the top of your right tit. "Your skin tastes like that spilled beer. I love it on you."

"Well then, you better clean me up with your tongue, since it's your fault in the first place." You tipped your head back, and arched your back off the bed, and Bradley followed your lead, letting his big hands find the clasp of your bra. You moaned softly as he unhooked it and moved his fingers around to ease the fabric away from your body.

"God damn," he groaned before taking your nipple between his lips. Your fingers were tight in his hair as he sucked on you, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your other breast.

"Bradley!" you cried out when he rubbed his mustache across your nipple. He was dying to fuck you, but you were letting him tease the hell out of you, and he was loving this.

"You like that?" he asked, enjoying all the cues you were giving him. He couldn't stop grinning as you whimpered a soft little yes before pulling his undershirt off.

When you ran your fingers through his chest hair and down his abs, Bradley swallowed hard. Because you didn't stop there. You reached right for his unbuttoned jeans and eased his zipper down. He held himself over you, looking down into your needy eyes as you ran your fingers along the elastic of his underwear before delving inside. You licked your pouty lips before you wrapped your hand around his cock, and then you closed the distance up to his lips with the softest, sweetest kiss. You stroked him slowly while barely brushing your lips against his, and it was driving him absolutely insane.

"Ace," he grunted, and you squeezed your hand around his cock and giggled while he moaned for you. Then you gasped and let go of him. "What's wrong?" he asked, immediately pulling himself away from you while he panted.

Your eyes looked concerned, so he put a little more distance between your bodies. "I don't have any condoms," you whispered as you eased your hand away from him.

Bradley pressed his lips to your forehead. "I think I have one in my wallet. It's new."

"Oh," you gasped. "Should have known," you told him. "You're pretty gorgeous, too."

Bradley wanted to ease your mind, let you know that he didn't hook up with a lot of women anymore. He wanted to tell you that the condom was there for just a special occasion like this one. He wanted to explain to you that the last few he'd had in his wallet had been sacrificed to Jake when he'd been in a pinch at the bar.

But you were easing him onto his back, and he supposed it probably wouldn't make much of a difference. It wasn't like you were going to want more from him than just tonight. Besides, he hadn't had anything that wasn't casual in a very long time.

You were on top of him now, straddling his waist in your unbuttoned jeans, and you were reaching for both of his hands. And when you had your fingers laced with his and pinned his hands over his head, Bradley closed his eyes and enjoyed your touch. Your lips were soft on his face and your thumbs were stroking along his palms in a way that was not only turning him on more, but also providing him with some comfort.

When you whispered his name, he opened his eyes and he felt surprised by the realization that he only met you tonight.

"Maybe you should get that condom ready?" you asked softly, rolling your hips against Bradley's torso.

"Yeah," he grunted. And then you were easing down his body, taking his jeans and underwear with you. Bradley propped himself up on one elbow as his cock sprang free. You made eye contact with him, lips parted on a soft whimper.

"Bradley," you sighed, tugging his jeans, underwear and socks completely off.

Before you tossed everything aside, he mumbled, "Grab my wallet, Baby." Your eyes met his with so much need before you focused on taking the leather out of the pocket of his jeans, it had him reaching for you.

You shoved it into his hand before you scrambled back up his body and brushed your fingers through his hair, kissing his lips like he was every goddamn thing you wanted.

Bradley removed the condom and tossed his wallet onto the floor. Then he had you underneath him again. You still smelled like the spilled beer as he kissed his way along your chest, and you were trying to wriggle out of your jeans. "I can take care of that," he whispered, pressing the condom into your hand. Then he had every scrap of fabric removed from your body, and he didn't know if he could handle how perfect you really were. "Ace," he groaned when you eased your feet up his biceps and let your ankles rest on his shoulders.

Bradley's lips found the inside of your right thigh as if he was drawn to you like a magnet. Your eyes were half lidded, and you had one hand in his hair and one on your tits. How was he going to recover from this?

"Let me taste you," he begged, and when you nodded, his lips were on your pussy immediately. He groaned, already addicted to the way you tasted here too. He kissed along your slit and buried his nose against your clit.

"Oh!" you gasped, tightening your grip on his hair and spreading your legs wider for him. Bradley's cock was throbbing against the bedding as he slid his tongue up through your soaking wet pussy until his lips were wrapped around your clit.

"Yesss," you hissed, gently riding his face as you whispered his name. And with each stroke of his tongue, you got a little louder, your fingers pulled his hair a little more. Oh, he was so fucking turned on for you, he wasn't sure he'd last more than a minute once he had that condom on.

"Bradley!" you gasped, pressing your heel into his back while he sucked on your clit. "Put the condom on."

It took him a little bit to get his lips away from your pussy, because he really wanted to get you off with his mouth. But then he rationalized that you wanted him to get you off with his dick instead, and that sounded perfect, too.

"Okay," he panted, brushing his wet mustache against your belly as you opened the condom for him. He rolled it on and kissed your lips as he pressed himself to your core. Now you were holding him in place by his hair as you returned his kisses, softly moaning into his mouth as he pressed his tip into you. You felt warm and tight and perfect, and as you took every inch of him, he stroked his thumb along your cheek.

"Oh god," you whimpered, frantically kissing him and licking his mustache. Your voice was coming in little gasps, and he loved the sound of it.

Bradley withdrew and thrust back inside you, and you rolled your hips with his. "You gotta tell me what you like, Ace. I want to make you feel good."

He watched your eyes go a little wider before you reached for his hand. When you took his index and middle fingers between your lips and started sucking on him while he fucked you, he groaned. "Baby. God that feels fucking great. But don't make me cum yet."

With a soft whimper, you swirled your tongue along his fingers before popping them out of your mouth and guiding his hand down between your bodies to your clit. Bradley had to suck in a deep breath and think about one of his superior officers leading a boring lecture to keep himself in check. He never felt close to the edge this fast, but as he ran his wet fingers along your clit and fucked you into the bed, he knew he could cum if he let himself.

"Bradley," you whispered, and he buried his face against your neck. "Harder."

He bit his lip and fucked you harder while you whined his name, and he kept his fingers on your clit, trying to work you up. He needed to get you off. He absolutely needed to do this. Because he was hoping you'd call him or text him. He wanted you to save his number and use it. He was already dying for more.

"Ace," he groaned, pressing his lips to your neck as your fingers drifted down his shoulders to his back.

You moaned, "I like it when you call me that," so Bradley pressed the nickname against your lips with his until you were gasping and clenching around him. When you came for him, you took his fingers from your clit and laced your hand with his as his movements grew more erratic.

He was saying something as he came inside you, but he wasn't exactly sure what. And you were looking up at him with a soft, fucked out smile and pushing his hair away from his forehead with your warm hand. And then you let him collapse on top of you while he was still buried inside you, and you ran your fingers back through his hair.

Bradley settled his cheek against your chest and let himself enjoy the feel of your breathing evening out after your orgasm. You were still making soft sounds as you rubbed your calf along his leg. He could have stayed just like this all night. You felt that good.

Just as he looked up at you, about to ask if there was any way you'd want to see him again this weekend, you laughed softly.

"Wow. That was fun."

Fun. He wanted to be more than a fun time. "And good, I hope?" he asked softly.

"More than good," you whispered, laughing again. "Amazing."

Bradley smiled at you, and he knew he was blushing. "Yeah. Amazing is the right word for it."

And you were smiling so much, Bradley laughed as you tried to hide behind your hand. He leaned in and kissed your wrist. "Ace, I-"

Bradley jerked away from you as an alarm went off somewhere in the room. When you sat up, he gently eased himself out of you with a grunt.

"That's my thirty minute warning," you told him, scrambling out of bed. "I need to finish my article and submit it."

"Oh," he said, watching you bend to locate your phone. "Right."

You looked at him and licked your lips nervously as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. And then you bent to start retrieving your clothing, and Bradley's heart sank as he stood as well. Wordlessly, he went into the bathroom to take care of the condom and wash his hands, and when he came back out, you were dressed in your underwear and the white shirt he had messed up.

"I guess," he whispered, pulling on his own underwear, "I should go then."

You pressed your lips together and nodded slightly. "I guess so."

"Okay," he said, quickly getting himself dressed in everything except his Padres tee. He just held that while he looked at you. "You have my number."

"I do," you whispered.

"You can use it," he told you with a smile, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek. And then your lips were on his. And then your fingers were in his hair again.

You moaned and then pulled away from him, and Bradley forced himself to walk backwards to the door, not wanting to take his eyes off you.

"Bye, Bradley."

He didn't want to say goodbye to you, so he said, "See ya, Ace," and then he was out in the hallway with the door closing behind him.

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

Oh, Bradley! I love Ace, and I hope you do, too! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@yaboid19

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@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

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979 notes · View notes

fridaysvalentine · 2 years

Text

still my favorite part of last night, the dodgers sounding the la kings goal horn after mookie’s homerun during la kings night 🥹

0 notes

what-shitfuckery-is-this-ew · 6 months

Text

BOYCOTTING FOR PALESTINE

The Official BDS Boycott Targets

Events:

EUROVISION. IT IS IN OUR TOP PRIORITY TO BOYCOTT EUROVISION

Giro d’Italia and Tour de France (these are past campaigns as the events have finished)

Consumer Boycotts - a complete boycott of these brands

Disney (SPECIFICALLY MARVEL)

Intel

Axa

Puma

Carrefour

Cevron

Caltex

Israeli produce

Re/max

Ahava

Texaco

Siemens

Sodastream

Intel

Organic Boycott Targets - boycotts not initiated by BDS but still complete boycott of these brands

Macdonald's

Dominos

Papa Johns

Burger King

Pizza Hut

Wix

Divestments and exclusion - pressure governments, institutions, investment funds, city councils, etc. to exclude from procurement contracts and investments and to divest from these

Elbit Systems

CAF

Volvo

CAT

Barclays

JCB

HD Hyundai

TKH Security

HikVision

Pressure - boycotts when reasonable alternatives exist, as well as lobbying, peaceful disruptions, and social media pressure.

Google

Amazon

AirBnb

Booking.Com

Expedia

Teva

Here are some companies that strongly support Israel (but are not Boycott targets). There is no ethical consumption under capitalism and boycotting is a political strategy - not a moral one. If you did try to boycott every supporter of Israel you would struggle to survive because every major company supports Israel (as a result of attempting to keep the US economy afloat), that being said, the ones that are being boycotted by masses and not already on the organic boycott list are coloured red.

5 Star Chocolate

7Days

7Up

Apple

Arsenal FC

ALDO

Arket

Axe

Accenture

Ariel

Adidas

ActionIQ

Aquafina

Amika

AccuWeather

Activia

Adobe

Aesop

Azrieli Group

American Eagle

Amway Corp

Axel Springer

American Airlines

American Express

Atlassian

AdeS

Aquarius

Ayataka

Audi

Barqs

Bain & Company

Bayer

Bank Leumi

Bank Hapoalim

BCG (Boston Consulting Group)

Biotherm

Bershka

Bloomberg

BMW

Boeing

Booz Allen Hamilton

Burberry

Bath & Body Works

Bosch

Bristol Myers Squibb

Capri Holdings

Costa

Carita Paris

CareTrust REIT

Caterpillar

Coach

Cappy

Caudalie

CeraVe

Check Point Software Technologies

Cerelac

Chanel

Chapman and Cutler

Channel

Cheerios

Cheetos

Chevron

Chips Ahoy!

Christina Aguilera

Citi Bank

Carrefour

Codral

Cosco

Canada Dry

Citi

Clal Insurance Enterprises

Clean & Clear

Clearblue

Clinique

Champion

Club Social

Coca Cola

Coffee Mate

Colgate

Comcast

Compass

Caesars

Conde Nast

Cooley LLP

Costco

Côte d’Or

Crest

CV Starr

CyberArk Software

Cytokinetics

Crayola

Cra Z Art

Daimler

Dr Pepper

Del Valle

Daim

Doctor Pepper

Dasani

Doritos

Daz

Dior

Dell

Deloitte

Delta Air Lines

Deutsche Bank

Deutsche Telekom

DHL Group

David Off

Disney

DLA Piper

Domestos

Domino’s

Douglas Elliman

Downy

Duane Morris LLP

Dreft Baby Detergent & Laundry Products

Dreyer’s Grand Ice Cream

eBay

Edelman

Eli Lilly

Evian

Empyrean

Ericsson

Endeavor

EPAM Systems

Estee Lauder

Elbit Systems

Expedia

Forbes

Facebook

Fairlife

Fanta

First International Bank of Israel

Fiverr

Funyuns

Fuze

Fox News

Fritos

Fox Corp

Gatorade

Gamida Cell

Glamglow

General Catalyst

General Motors

Georgia

Gold Peak

Genesys

Goldman Sachs

Grandma’s Cookies

Google

Garnier

Guess

Greenberg Traurig

Guerlain

Givenchy

H&M

Hadiklaim

Huggies

Hanes

HSBC

Head & Shoulders

Hersheys

Herbert Smith Freehills

Hewlett Packard

Hasbro

Hyundai

Henkel

Harel Insurance Investment & Financial Services

Hewlett Packard Enterprise

HubSpot

Huntsman Corp

IBM

Innocent

Insight Partners

Inditex Group

IT Cosmetics

Instacart

Intermedia

Interpublic Group

Instagram

ICL Group

Intuit

Jazwares

Jefferies

John Lewis

JP Morgan Chase

Jaguar

Johnson & Johnson

JPMorgan

Kenon Holdings

Kate Spade

Kirks’

Kinley Water

KKR

KFC

KKW Cosmetics

Kurkure

Keebler

Kolynos

Kaufland

Kevita

Knorr

KPMG

Lemonade

Lidl

Loblaws

Levi Strauss

Louis Vuitton

Life Water

Levi’s

Levi’s Strauss

Land Rover

L’Oréal

Lego

Levissima

Live Nation Entertainment

Lufthansa

La Roche-Posay

Lipton

Major League Baseball

Manpower Group

Marriott

Marsh McLennan

Maison Francis Kurkdjian

Mastercard

Mattel

Minute Maid

Monster

Monki

Mainz FC

Mellow Yellow

Mountain Dew

Migdal Insurance

Marks & Spencer

Mirinda

McDermott Will & Emery

Motorola

McKinsey

Merck

Michael Kors

Mizrahi Tefahot Bank

Merck KGaA

Micheal Kors

Milkybar

Maybelline

Mount Franklin

Meta

MeUndies

Mattle

Microsoft

Munchies

Miranda

Morgan Lewis

Moroccanoil

Morgan Stanley

MRC

Nasdaq

Naughty Dog

Nivea

NOS

Nabisco

Nutter Butter

No Frills

National Basketball Association

National Geographic

Nintendo

New Balance

Nutella

Newtons

NVIDIA

Netflix

Nescafe

Nestle

Nesquick

Nike

Nussbeisser

Oreo

Oral B

Old spice

Oysho

Omeprazole

Oceanspray

Opodo

P&G (Procter and Gamble)

Pampers

Pull & Bear

Pepsi

Pfizer

Popeyes

Parker Pens

Philadelphia Cream Cheese

Pizza Hut

Powerade

Purina

Phoenix Holdings

Propel

Ponds

Pure Leaf Green Tea

Power Action Wipes

PwC

Prada

Perry Ellis

Prada Eyewear

Pringles

Payoneer

Procter & Gamble

Purelife

Pureology

Quaker Oats

Royal Bank of Canada

Ruffles

Revlon

Ralph Lauren

Ritz

Rolls Royce

Royal

S.Pellegrino

Sabra Hummus

Sabre

Sony

SAP

Simply

Smart Water

Sprite

Schwabe

Shell

Soda Stream

Siemens

StreamElements

Schweppes

Sunsilk

Signal

Skittles

Smart Food

Sobe

Smarties

Sephora

Sam’s Club

Superbus

Samsung

Sodastream

Sunkist

Scotiabank

Sour Patch Kids

Starbucks

Sadaf

Stride

Subway

Tang

Tate’s Bake Shop

The Body Shop

TEVA

Tesco

Twitch

The Ordinary

Tim Hortons

Tostitos

Timberland

Topo Chico

Tapestry

Tropicana

Tommy Hilfiger

Tommy Hilfiger Toiletries

Turbos

Tom Ford

Taco Bell

Triscuit

TUC

Twix

Tottenham Hotspurs

Twisties

Tripadvisor

Uber

Uber Eats

Urban Decay

Upfield

Unilever

Vicks

Victoria’s Secret

Vaseline

Vitaminwater

Volkswagen

Volvo

Walmart

Wegmans

Waitrose

Woolworths

Wheat Thins

Walkers

Warner Brothers

Warner Chilcot

Warner Music

Wells Fargo

Winston & Strawn

WingStreet

Wissotzky Tea

WWE

Wheel Washing Powder

Wrigley Company

YouTube

Yvel

Yum Brands

Ziyad

Zara

Zim Shipping

Ziff Davis

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seungmoonandstars · 3 months

Text

Kim Seungmin/gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

rating: fluff -`♡´- (contains some very light smut and teasing)

Post-first pitch Seungmin. I was going to get into heavier smut, but it just didn't seem necessary. Just wanted to write cute whiny Minnie and try to unblock my brain.

Thank you for the reblogs! 🤍🤍🤍

★────★────★

Seungmin can’t sleep. He’s buzzing with adrenaline and leftover excitement —the afterglow of his trip to throw a first pitch at a major league baseball game. It’s happened and it’s done, and he still can’t believe he threw the ball right down the middle. No dirt, no accidental curve, no slip up on the mound.

He talked about it all night, and you listened happily until both of you finally dozed off.

“Hey…hey you up?” He turns over in bed and gently pokes your side, the spot he knows is ticklish.

But you don’t stir, so he whines a little. “I can’t sleeeeep.”

You grumble and roll onto your back. “Huh…what’s wrong pup? It’s so early.”

“I can’t get back to sleep”

“Do you want some coffee? Are you hungry?” You pick up your phone and look at the time, then to the window to see some faint morning light starting to show in the sky.

“No, I wanna pitch some more,” now he flips onto his back, shaking the bed, and mimics a throw toward the ceiling.

“Mmm yeah, you did a great job. I thought you had a headache.”

“I feel better. Will you be my catcher?”

Your eyes pop open and stare at him. The grin on his face is undeniable—cute, sincere, so eager. There is no such thing as saying no to Kim Seungmin when he gives you those eyes. But…

“I would love to be your catcher…but there’s nowhere to do it. We can’t do it in the apartment unless we wanna break something. And I think it’s raining.”

“No, it stopped! Let’s go out, just for a few minutes…just a few throws.”

“Okay, give me a minute to finish waking up”

“I’ll make coffee when we come back in”

—

It’s nice outside. Not warm, but not too chilly. The smell of rain is still in the air, and it feels like more is coming. Best of all, it’s quiet and empty—it doesn’t feel like there are any prying eyes. You watch as he flexes his gloved hand open and closed, tosses the ball (not the one he threw hours ago, but an older, more loved one) into the air and back into his bare palm.

“Are you ready?” He peeks back at you from his pretend pitchers mound and smiles.

“Yes. Don’t do a splitter, I’ll miss it.”

“No splitters.” He readies himself and winds up, and it happens so fast you’re surprised you have time to react. It’s way too early for this.

“Oh, good catch! I taught you well.” He holds up his glove and waits for your return throw.

The sun is mostly up, but it’s so overcast it might as well be twilight. Still, you can see Seungmin’s big smile glowing at you from this distance. He hops on the balls of his feet a few times while he waits for you to get ready.

“How does your shoulder feel from all the practice yesterday?”

“Not bad,” he throws you another, slightly harder pitch, but you catch it. “Throw me a good one.”

Seungmin catches your attempt at a ‘good one’, but he has to jump forward a few steps to get there. “I’m still stiff from sleeping, I guess.” He rolls his shoulder and shakes his arm a few times.

“You’re what?” You giggle and stick your tongue out, "you’re stiff? That sounds nice..."

“Dirty mind,” he smiles at you and licks his lips, and now your eyes drop and watch his sweatpants as he takes a few more steps toward you. "Come on."

“Come? What do you want me to come on?”

The look he gives you is a bad attempt at being annoyed. His giggle floats all the way over to you with his pitch, and the throw this time is soft…a little high. When you look back up from your glove he’s already splitting the space between you in two, grinning stupidly, biting his lip.

“We’re done already?”

He grabs your hand without a word and pulls toward the entrance… "we could just do it out here, ya know" …into the elevator, still silent as it slowly rises up and up to your floor. Your hand is squeezed tight in his warm grip, and he swings it a few times as the doors finally slide open.

It doesn’t take much to see he’s been on an adrenaline high for hours, even as he tried to sleep, and it was no fun not being able to go with him on his little trip—you felt lonely all day. But he’s home now, and he’s all yours again. And he’s definitely wide awake. Now you are, too. No coffee needed.

Still he doesn’t say anything, but he’s humming happily to himself.

“Minnie?”

“Yes love?”

The door closes behind him, and he’s all over you. Lips kissing and teeth biting, hands pulling at your sweatshirt, trying desperately to get it off. You pull away and do it for him, and you feel his hand run up your sides, under your shirt. It’s off and on the floor. His eyes move down your body, and slowly back up to your face. You know what he’s waiting for—Seungmin likes it when you undress him. He prefers it, actually.

Now you can see what’s going on in his pants, he can’t hide that. Before you go for his shirt, your hand slides down his front for a feel. Seungmin is ready to go, now, and you’re surprised he’s being so patient. You grab the hem of his shirt and lift, revealing his heaving chest and shoulders, and as you run your eyes over his neck and collarbone, he pulls his arms back and stretches.

A moment later you’re up and clinging to him, fingers clawing into his back. Then you’re on the kitchen table, legs wrapped around his hips. His dick, still tucked away in his sweats, pokes into you as he kisses your chest and neck, squeezes playfully at your thighs. It’s more forward of him than you’re used to.

“You are not fucking me on this kitchen table, Seungmin”

“Aw, whyyy?” He pulls you against him and stares hard, “please?” The puppy eyes again. Cute and sincere and so, so eager.

“The couch is right there”

“But you’re already on the table”

The warmth of his hand is on you, down your stomach, underneath your clothes, fingers teasing.

“Yeah, yeah I am…”

“Lay down,” he whispers.

“Ooh, you’re cute pup”

“Please”

You shake your head, “gonna have to make me.”

Seungmin swallows hard, and you watch as his eyes trace along your neck, and your chest. He rarely makes you do anything; he’s usually the one being made to do things, and he likes it that way.

“Make me…pleeaase?”

“Please?” He grips your thighs and pulls until you’re snug against him, cock pushing right where you need it to. “Uh…make you…hmm,” he starts, and you think he might do something, but he hesitates.

“Look at me”

His arms wrap around your waist and squeeze, and he looks. Eyes big and dark, cheeks blushed. Seungmin is too soft for this. He whines and throws his head back.

“C’mon big boy, make me”

“But…” Seungmin laughs, kisses your throat.

“What do you think about when you’re all riled up and horny and I’m not there to fix it?”

The sound of his breaths and needy whimpers is driving you crazy. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep going like this—all you have to do is stop teasing and take over—get him to the couch, fuck him until he begs you to make him come.

“You…taking care of me.” He says it so softly, so sweetly. “Making me feel good.”

It sends a shiver up your back and down your arms. "I wanna make you feel good.” Once again, denying him is useless. Seungmin is your prince; your sweet little pup. You will take care of him and give him what he needs, whether that means waking up at dawn…or this.

“Pick me up”

He grabs your hips and holds you close to him, but his eyes linger for one more long moment.

“Pick me up…and take me to bed”

#kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #skz seungmin #sub!seungmin #sub seungmin #seungmin x you #kim seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin #kim seungmin fanfic

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zackcollins · 2 years

Text

Back in Style || BAL vs TOR || 06/14/22

29 notes · View notes

jinwoowoo · 1 year

Text

Ballgame Date

Male reader x Kep1er Chaehyun smut

Length: 4481 words

Tags: Voyeurism, blowjob

Chaehyun hops on her feet as she walks with you inside the baseball stadium, happy that you took her invitation to a ball game date. Though you are not a fan of any sports and prefer playing video games instead, seeing your girlfriend happy after winning some preseason pass to watch her favorite baseball team gives you a little fluttery feeling in your chest.

"Why is the stadium so empty? Shouldn't it be at least half filled?" You asked after noticing the lack of people to watch the game, far from what you expected when you watch major leagues with her during your home dates.

"Hm? This is normal, YN. People don't usually watch preseason games unless they are a reporter or someone from the league management. Teams that fight before the regular season are just practicing to see their opponent's current strength and test out their own." Chaehyun explained sternly, raising a finger as if she were your mother scolding you for something you did wrong.

Raising your hands in defeat, Chaehyun smiled softly and nudged your chest with her elbow before taking you to one of the thousand empty seats. She personally picked the seat near the dugout and bullpen of her favorite team so she can watch them closely and see who will be on the lineup this season.

After minutes of waiting, the players slowly filled up their benches and start warming up on the sides. Chaehyun stood up and starts calling out her favorite team, cheering the team captain and ace pitcher particularly. The two looked at her and waved their hands, smiling at her and bowed slightly to acknowledge Chaehyun's presence.

You would be lying if you didn't feel a sudden pain in your chest when you saw Chaehyun smiling from ear to ear after she got recognized by her idol players. You haven't seen her that happy much lately, especially when you two are tired from work and didn't have much time to bond with each other. That's why you let her bring you to a ball date to make up for the lost time.

Sensing the sadness by her side, Chaehyun took a glance at you. With face dropping low, hands holding the armrest and eyes staring to the ground, Chaehyun knows that you are being jealous of her favorite players right now. She returned to her seat and leaned towards your stomach, head tilting to face you and block your sight.

"Why are you frowning, YN? You don't wanna watch baseball? We can go home if you feel uncomfortable." Chaehyun asked softly while holding your cheek with her closed fingers, hands forming like a paw and massaging your cheekbones in circular motion.

"It's nothing, Chaehyun. I wish I'm just as cool as those baseball players." You replied, still a bit sullen.

"But you are the coolest person for me, YN. You are always there when I need you. Spoiling all my whining and pampering me. Please don't be sad" Chaehyun smiled and pecked your lips, rubbing her nose to yours right after.

Your lips curved into a smile because of Chaehyun's cuteness and sweet words that tickled your heart. You patted her head and brushed her hair while putting her back in her seat, holding her hand and intertwining your fingers while Chaehyun leaned her head on your shoulder. Everything seems fine and you felt happy again, but it didn't take long because of what happened next.

Chaehyun's happy mood turned sour when the opponent of her favorite team started dominating. The ace pitcher stood on the mount and shut down the batters of the opposing team during the first inning, gaining them a huge lead with 3 points. However, during the 2nd inning, the coach of her favorite team called for a timeout and switched their pitcher with their new member, causing the team to lose its advantage and got dominated.

"The new pitcher is dog shit! Boooo!!" Chaehyun chanted along with some fans you can count on your fingers.

Getting a bit embarrassed by your girlfriend's action, you pulled Chaehyun back to her seat and covered her mouth, hushing her. "Stop it, Chaehyun. The coach must have a reason to switch players. Who knows? Maybe he wants the new pitcher to taste the pressure of a real match so he could expect what to face during the regular season."

"That is still not an excuse, YN. His pitches are too weak and predictable. They don't even hit the center of the catcher's gloves. I thought he was playing for a local high school division." Chaehyun explained angrily, crossing her arms and puffing out some air to blow off some steam.

Having zero knowledge about baseball, you just nodded at Chaehyun's explanation and pulled her towards you, letting her lean on your chest while you hug her arms and lightly pat her shoulder. You are trying your best to keep Chaehyun calm, but the new pitcher is still hitting your girlfriend's nerves especially when she keeps hearing the bats making contact with the pitches he made.

In the end, the fifth inning ended with 0-3 standing during the first inning down to 9-4 in favor of the opponent team- a much more disappointing result than you expected. Chaehyun is in pure dismay seeing her favorite team getting punished by their opponent. You don't want to see her being sad like this, so you offered her to buy some snacks during the intermission before the game resumes.

Dispirited, Chaehyun only nodded and stood up, walking out of the stands towards the back of the stadium where the snack bars could be found. She looked like a kid holding the sleeve of your jersey shirt after losing her favorite stuffed toy, head hung low and dragging her feet on each step. After wandering around, you finally found a snack bar that is open during the game.

"What do you want to eat, Chaehyun? They got turkey leg and sandwiches. Do you want some beer? Maybe not…" You asked as you read the portion of the menu hung on the wall.

"I want hotdogs on a bun, babe. A lot of it. Also extra large cola and two big turkey sandwiches." She replied softly.

Nodding, you ordered six hotdogs on a bun, two large turkey sandwiches, and two extra large cokes for Chaehyun while you got yourself a corndog and pineapple juice. You looked at your girlfriend and saw her lips slowly forming a smile after smelling the food being cooked. She opened her arms and hugged you tight, looking at you with a pout on her lips.

"Thank you, YN. I feel extra hungry because of that newbie pitcher." Chaehyun mumbled.

"It's fine, Chaehyun. We are still on a date so let's enjoy the rest of the game. Just promise me not to shout something bad at the players, okay?" You said and pecked Chaehyun's lips, earning you a soft nod from her.

Good thing the staff prepared your snacks before the game resumed. Since you ordered a lot, they let you borrow a tray to carry all the food in exchange that you bringing them back after the match. You went back to the stands where you two were sitting before but Chaehyun suddenly hugged your arm tight, stopping you in your tracks.

"Let's seat somewhere else, YN. I don't want to watch this game this close when they are losing." Chaehyun whispered which made you look around.

"Are you sure? Is it okay if we go seat somewhere else far?" You asked and Chaehyun just nodded.

"The upper decks are empty. I don't think they would mind if we take a seat or two."

Nodding at her request, you led Chaehyun to the far right of the stadium where she can still watch the game and have proper shade from the sun. As soon as you two sat down, you placed the tray of food on the empty seat beside Chaehyun. She immediately took a big sip of the extra-large cola, quenching her thirst after shouting a few minutes ago.

As soon as the 6th inning came, you don't know what to watch anymore. While the match piqued your interest as Chaehyun's team pours their dedication to catch up for the points they gave away during the previous innings, your girlfriend beside you is having an adorable making.

Chaehyun's cheeks are puffing with the food you ordered, taking bites of the turkey sandwich and hotdogs alternately. She squeals every time a new flavor hits her taste buds, swallowing the chewed food right after and cleansing her palate with the cola before eating on a cycle. You didn't even get a chance to taste the corndog you ordered since Chaehyun ate it too. All you can do is just rubbed Chaehyun's back, helping her so she won't choke on her food.

It is only the 7th lower inning of the game and Chaehyun already finished eating the rest of the food. She took a huge sip of the second extra-large cola, burping cutely while patting her filled stomach. Even if you are hungry as well, seeing Chaehyun smiling with a face messed with ketchup and mustard makes you feel full already. You took some pieces of tissue to wipe her lips, still taking care of your childish girlfriend.

"YN, I still want some hotdogs," Chaehyun said as you wipe plump cheeks.

"Okay, babe. Just stay here and behave, okay? I will buy more food for us."' You said and stood out of your seat, only to be dragged back down by Chaehyun.

"Not that, YN. I want your hotdog"

"W-what?"

The sound of the bat hitting the baseball acted like a bell when you realized what Chaehyun wants. Smirking menacingly, Chaehyun stood up and grabbed your thighs, pulling them until your ass is on the edge of the seat before straddling your lap. The last thing you saw was the batter of the team reaching the first base before Chaehyun completely blocked your vision, leaning forward to kiss you.

Your mind went into a panic state thinking that people might see you and Chaehyun making out in public. You want to grab her shoulders and push her away, tell her to make a room for you two but the way she grabs your Jersey's collar to pull and kiss turns you submissive.

Hungry for more, Chaehyun won't just settle for sloppy wet kisses. She wants to taste you, to feel the passionate love flow between the two of you. From holding your Jersey's collar, Chaehyun slid her hand down and lifted your shirt, caressing your abs while sticking her finger on your navel.

The warmth of Chaehyun's palm on your stomach subconsciously made you moan, giving Chaehyun the opportunity to push her tongue inside your mouth. You almost choked out when Chaehyun's frenzied tongue licks the insides of your oral cavern. Trying to calm her down, even just for a little, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked it hard, swallowing her saliva and pinning her tongue on your palate.

"Babe… Slow down…" You moaned between the kisses but Chaehyun is unstoppable right now, eager to send you to the second base.

Raising her hips and slamming them back down, Chaehyun pressed her crotch on your boner intently, showing you how much she needs you. You groaned between the kisses as she keeps grinding on you, and you don't care anymore if people are watching you and Chaehyun right now.

Your right arm hooks at the back of Chaehyun's waist, pulling her closer to your body and assisting her in grinding on your lap. Your other hand caresses Chaehyun's smooth tummy, lifting her clothes a little to fondle her enormous tits.

Chaehyun moaned sexily when she felt your hand squeezing her boobs. Your fingers press her soft fatty flesh delicately, palm pressing down on her nipples and kneading her doughy teats. If there's something you wish to hold forever in your life, that would be your girlfriend's sensitive breasts.

Moans calling out each other's names can be heard coming from the two of you. Chaehyun is basically fucking you right now, just still on full clothes. It already came to the point that you want to pin Chaehyun down on the floor and fuck her, not giving a shit about what people might say. Already had enough, you stopped groping Chaehyun's tits and held the waist of her pants, putting your thumbs on the garter and about to pull them down only if Chaehyun didn't stop you.

"No YN… I said I want to eat your hotdog…" Chaehyun panted as she pulled away from the kiss.

She removed her hand from your shirt and unbuttoned your pants, unzipping the zipper right after. Holding the waist of your pants and boxer, Chaehyun then kneeled in front of you and tugged them down to your ankles.

Your hard and erect cock stood proudly, veins popping out with glans glistening with precum. She immediately grabbed and stroked you, pumping the shaft fast and spitting on it.

"YN… Try to be quiet, okay? I don't want to get banned from entering the stadium because of you…" Chaehyun whispered, giving you a little warning to remember.

Spreading your legs apart and scooting close between your thighs, Chaehyun's face is just two inches away from your dick, the same distance as the current runner on the home plate before he was called out. Chaehyun sticks her tongue out, wet tip tracing the veins on your shaft while keeping eye contact with you.

"Chaehyun… Oh god…" You moaned, feeling Chaehyun's tongue finally reach the tip, flicking the oozing slit of your glans and slurping the released precum.

Loving how your body shuddered on the jolt of feeling she gave and your reaction, Chaehyun released your cock from her hand for a moment to tie her hair, something you watch a lot of times and give you a major turn-on every single time. Now that her long hair is out of the way, Chaehyun leaned back to your cock.

"My cute boyfriend YN~ thank you for always spoiling me. Now let me spoil you this time~"

You swear you almost came when Chaehyun laid your cock into her palm and rubbed her cheeks all over it. Her cuteness matched with her soft cheeks feels so illegal yet so good, especially when your cock is grinding all over her beautiful face.

After rubbing your dick all over her face and worshipping it, Chaehyun gives your cock some wet kisses, engulfing the shaft on her lips and sucking to give it hickeys. She grabbed your cock by the head and pushed it close to your abs, leaning down further to give your balls some sucking too.

Already wet and licked on all sides, Chaehyun decided to take your pleasure to the next base and hit the third. Grabbing your dick from the base and giving you short shallow strokes, she parted her soft lips to take your glans inside her mouth. One strong sip from Chaehyun already sent you to the bliss of arousal. A small amount of precum was forced to be sucked out of your tip, making Chaehyun swallow thickly.

"Babe… Take it slow. You are gonna make me cum so fast" you panted, feeling the force of Chaehyun's suction force you to squirt more precum.

Chaehyun giggled and sent vibrations to your cock, giving you exotic pleasure. Smiling, she paced down her blowjob since she wants to suck your dick longer and hold your orgasm as much as possible. She already forgot the game as she found something more fun to do. Switching from deep head bobbing and a combination of jerking off and sucking the head, Chaehyun tries a variety of blowjobs and sees which one you like the most. She even took her phone out of her pocket and put it on the camera, taking a selfie of her sucking your dick with a victory peace sign near her eye.

Though you enjoy the pleasure Chaehyun's mouth gives, you can't just idle and have to make her feel good as well. Taking the phone out of Chaehyun's hand, you switched the camera into a video recording one and take a video of your girlfriend sucking your dick. Your other hand holds her cheek and caresses its softness to your palm, giving her some nice soft slaps that make her wince a bit for the video.

"Pull your shirt up, Chaehyun. I want to feel your boobs in my hand." You demanded which Chaehyun complied.

Lifting her jersey shirt up, Chaehyun's boobs which were as white as steamed buns made you drool inside your mouth, creating a deep cleavage when her sports bra can't contain its fullness. Leaving her cheek to touch her boobs, Chaehyun moaned instantly when you cupped her udders and squeezed them firmly.

Satisfied with her expression, you leaned down a little to grab Chaehyun's sports bra and pulled it up, freeing her jiggling boobs from its tight confinement. Zooming the camera a little, you focused on capturing Chaehyun's soft boobs on your palm. Your thumb and index finger hold her erect nipple, twisting and tugging it before you release and watch Chaehyun's boob bounce back due to its elasticity.

The pinching, tugging, and rough groping on Chaehyun's boobs made her tear up in both pain and pleasure. Her hands gripped hard on your thighs, holding for her dear life and trying not to moan out loud. Seeing the tears forming in her eyes, you stopped groping Chaehyun's boobs for a moment to wipe them off, cupping her cheek again and rubbing your thumb on her skin after.

"Do you like this Chaehyun? Sucking off your boyfriend's dick because you hate watching your favorite team lose its match?" You asked in a condescending tone, yet Chaehyun only nod fast to agree. "Such a slut… I bet you didn't really bring me here to watch the game. You just want to suck my dick in public and show everyone how such a cockslut you are."

Chaehyun nodded once more, loving how your giving and loving demeanor flipped and treated her like a slut. Groping her boobs for one last time, Chaehyun winced and shuddered as you let go of her tit to hold the back of her head. Bucking your hips forward, you pushed Chaehyun down and forced her to take your dick down to her throat.

Chaehyun's loud gagging served as music to your ears as she struggled to take adjust to your girth. Yet instead of pushing her hips away to breathe, she took the challenge and kept still like the good girl she is even if her airway is blocked. Her white skin turned pink due to the lack of oxygen. Her grip on your thighs is weakening, giving you the sign to finally let go of her head.

As soon as you let go of her head, Chaehyun tilted her head back and breathed deeply, gasping for air to recover the oxygen she lost. Your cock is covered with Chaehyun's mucus and spit, making a slimy silk strand of mixed fluids connect your dick and her face. After regaining her energy, she goes back to lapping her tongue on your messy dick, licking it like a dog enjoying her favorite bone. If that scene alone doesn't lead you near your orgasm, I don't know what will make you cum anymore.

"I'm close, Chaehyun… Do you want me to cum on your face? Or should I just feed you my cum instead? Are you even a good slut to receive my cum?" You asked as you feel your ground tightening, balls are done loading up and waiting for a release.

Chaehyun freed your cock out of her hungry mouth again, her chin and cheeks are messy with her own saliva. "Please give me a facial, YN. I want to feel your thick cum on my skin."

Different from what she wanted to do in the first place, you nodded and took her hand from your thigh and let her jerk you off. Reaching your limit, you grabbed the back of Chaehyun's hair and tugged it downward, forcing her to tilt her head back to display her cute beautiful face as your target.

"I'm close, Chaehyun! Shit, you always feel good!~" you groaned as you felt your cum already at the tip of your dick.

Hearing your words, Chaehyun sped up her hand until you reached your orgasm and blasted your load on her face. Your first load shot like a bullet and hit Chaehyun right at the center of her nose, splashing outward to her nose bridge and lips. The second and third load, thicker and much larger in volume thanks to the weeks you didn't have sex with Chaehyun, shoots out like a web string and dragged from her chin up to her forehead, covering most of Chaehyun's face. The rest of your load jetted out on her soft cheeks, masking her face entirely with nothing dropping off due to how thick your semen is.

"Holy shit Chaehyun… You look so gorgeous with my cum all over your face…" You panted as you flop down to your seat.

With Chaehyun's hair still on your hand, you brought it forward and wrapped it around your cock, using her smooth silky locks to wipe your dick clean and release what was left on your urethra. You then pressed the stop button on Chaehyun's phone to stop recording, saving it so she can watch them later.

Chaehyun stick her tongue out and licked her lips, savoring the taste of your creamy cum before speaking. "YN, pass me some napkins, please. Your jizz feels warm on my skin, but they are sticky and messy."

While laughing at your girlfriend who's trying to find the tray blindly, you helped her out and placed some napkin on her hand. She wiped her eyelids clean first to regain her sight, cleaning her cheeks and forehead right after. After cleaning the mess, Chaehyun looked at the used wet napkins with your cum on them.

"Do you want to see something cool?" Chaehyun asked which made you tilt your head in confusion. She suddenly takes all the cum-soaked napkins and put them in her mouth, chewing them like it is pieces of gum.

"Yah! What are you doing, Chaehyun? Those are dirty!" You scolded Chaehyun but she only smiled back.

A weird erotic feeling hits you when you saw her chewing them as if they were a delicacy, you even hear the sloshing sound of your cum in her mouth as she passes the fluid from one cheek to another. Acting like a dog owner who got his pet put something bad in its mouth, you tried to squeeze Chaehyun's cheeks and take the tissue out of her mouth, but it only resulted in some of the white translucent fluids seeping at the edge of her lips.

After acting like a naughty kid, Chaehyun made a loud swallowing sound as she ate your cum and the napkins, opening her mouth right after to show you that she ate it all.

"Hihi~ thanks for the hotdog treat, YN." Chaehyun giggled as she put her clothes back in order. She then realized that the game hasn't ended yet and looked at the scoreboard. "What happened to the game already?"

Rubbing your temples as the headache caused by your naughty Chaehyun kicks in, you pulled your pants and boxers back up, tucking them clean to remove the evidence of a blowjob. You grabbed Chaehyun by the waist and let her sit on your lap, back facing you so you can lean your chin on her shoulder and grab her tits.

"Omo! They managed to catch up! Fighting, team captain!" Chaehyun screamed as she cheer for the team captain.

The game is almost a cliche of every baseball drama. It is the final lower inning of the game, bases are loaded with two outs already, putting the last hope on the team captain of Chaehyun's favorite team.

As the pitcher draws his hand and finished his form, he threw an amazing fastball that flew toward the home plate. The team captain braced his hips, swinging the bat in full might and sent the ball flying up towards the left field.

The loud clashing sound made everyone silent. Chaehyun followed the ball with her sight, hands clasped tight while praying for the ball to fly outside the field. Sadly, it was a few feet away from the stands and the left fielder jumped high to catch the ball, resulting in a flyout.

"Fuck! That could have been a grand slam if the ball flew further." Chaehyun groaned as she kick the empty seat in front of her, frustrated.

"It's fine, Chaehyun. Your team fought well even if it is just a practice match." You said as you pulled her up to her feet and grabbed the tray you had to return.

"Really? I was determined to let you hit a home run if they got a grand slam." She grinned but you shrugged her words off as if you don't what she was saying.

Chaehyun wrapped her arm around yours and went out of the stadium, returning the tray you borrowed to carry all of the food you ordered. Still sulking and ranting, Chaehyun keeps murmuring how close the game was, repeating what she was saying as if she was chanting a curse.

"Aigoo, my Chaehyunie. I'm pretty sure they will practice hard to win their next match. Don't worry, I will buy the season pass for the upcoming season so we can watch them every time they have a game."

"Really? Yay! Thank you, YN~ I will get you to hit the fifth base when we got home." Chaehyun chuckled as she lets go of your hand, heading out first toward the parking lot.

"Eh? But there are only four plates on the field. Right miss?" Still baffled, you asked the staff of the snack stall.

The girl only giggled and leaned closer. "Fifth base means she's letting you fuck her ass, mister."

"W-what?!" You gasped in disbelief. Just then, you remembered what Chaehyun said a while ago. "What about homerun? Does it mean anything?"

"Let me think… I think it means letting you have sex with her. Good luck, mister. It looks like your girlfriend wants something to happen tonight."

Laughing at you, the girl brought the tray back to the kitchen and left you baffled. You quickly looked around and saw Chaehyun standing at the exit, winking. This cutie, you thought. Now that you know what Chaehyun wants, you ran as fast as you could chase her. Chaehyun sees you running towards her and quickly turned around the corner, still acting like a kid.

#chaehyun smut #kep1er smut #Kpop smut

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erodasfishtacos · 2 years

Text

Loving You is Easy (Demi)

prompt: my baby 🥺 mlb!harry’s exploration of his sexuality and coming out.

word count: 14.3k 🥲

warnings: topics of sexuality, identify issues, bullying, toxic masculinity, smut - 18+ minors dni

Take The Hint takes place in the middle of this fic & so you might want to reread first or when Harry starts to mention YN.

This fic is my baby. I’m so so proud of it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Please please like, follow, comment, and reblog ❣️

And I really would love to hear your thoughts so please send me a message about the fic ❣️

Assumptions.

That’s what Harry’s life has been based upon since he was in little league because of his perceived dominance and masculinity.

It happened nearly every game, he’d always draw attention because of his skill.

Even at such a young age - as soon as he could bat without the tee to hold the ball, people knew that he was something special.

Women would pinch his cheek and tell his mother to watch out because he was going to be a heartbreaker with the ladies - men would chuckle and joke that they were going to have to hide their daughters from him.

It doesn’t get any better as he grows up, it actually gets worse.

The more notoriety he garners, more attention and not just based on his athletic abilities, his looks landed him almost just as much.

He was good-looking and had above average athleticism, he was irresistible for people to leave alone.

He can’t count the number of times that men have asked him how many girls he had fucked that week because he just had to be getting it all the time.

In all this time of feeling wanted, Harry had never felt more alone.

He felt like there was something wrong with him.

There had to be - because he wasn’t living up to any expectations that society has set for him and had made abundantly clear since he was young.

He was meant to have a girl on his arm, who had to be the societal standard of beautiful who would follow him like a puppy.

Since he was a young teenager, always playing on baseball teams much higher than his age level - coaches and scouts knew that he was destined for the major leagues and it was just a matter of time before they snatched him up.

Girls in high school would swoon over his chiseled jaw, the way his biceps flexed, and the baseball bleachers were riddled with gaggles of giggly girls watching him practice on the pitch.

He didn’t have a break, there wasn’t a day of practice that didn’t go by where girls weren’t coming to watch him as he played.

It was supposed to be flattering but to Harry, it was just frustrating to constantly have all these girls gawking after him when he wasn’t interested.

Harry knew that he should be enjoying all the attention from the female gaze, at least, that’s what he thinks because of how often people are making assumptions about his private life.

But that’s all these things were…

Assumptions.

Harry didn’t care about girls or dating in middle school, never really gave it another thought when he never developed any crushes on the pretty peers who were very much interested in him.

It wasn’t until high school that he realized that there was something wrong with him or so he thought that he wasn’t normal like the other kids.

Harry began to realize that he didn’t have the same interests and urges as his friends who were constantly drooling over girls in short skirts or commenting on their appearances.

He could look at a girl and think she’s pretty but he didn’t have some deep primal urge to ask her over his house so he could get his rocks off like his friends did.

It only became an issue when his so-called friends started teasing him about his lack of social life with the ladies.

They would ask him if he was gay or asexual, asked him if he was still a virgin with all the date offers he gets.

He didn’t know what he was - he didn’t know if he was gay or asexual, he wanted to have sex but he didn’t just want it to be random.

Harry now realizes it wasn’t harmless teasing, not with how much emotional damage it had on his psyche to constantly be questioned about his sexuality.

He hadn’t known what he was.

It had been a late night practice and everyone was talking about the upcoming prom dance.

“Who are you taking, Styles?” Cody, one of his teammates asks as he packs up his bag with his equipment.

“Er, not sure,” Harry shrugs, attempting to come off nonchalant and unbothered by the question - despite how cocky he appeared, he was the furthest thing from confident internally about the topic.

“Come on! I know Lana and Jessie already asked you and they’re the hottest girls in the school! Lana’s tits are massive,” Seth chimes in, offended that Harry would have the nerve to turn down the girls of his teenage dreams.

Harry feels his face get hot because he knows what this is going to turn into very quickly - as it always did.

“Is it because you’re taking your boyfriend? Or yourself? Your hand can’t be your only date forever!” Cody crows, Harry’s hackle standing up at the jab and he feels himself getting hot.

“Mind your own fucking business,” Harry huffs out instead, swinging his pack over his shoulder and turning on his heel to leave.

“You know for how good you are at baseball, nobody would know you’re a virgin. Great in the field, a dud in the sheets,” Conner can’t help but add in, all the boys were chuckling as they changed.

Harry is still trying to be the bigger person by continuing to walk away but when Seth snickers, “Y’know what I think? He’s so good at baseball because he’s making up for his small dick.’

Everyone has a breaking point.

They had managed to get Harry to hit his, which was an accomplishment but the subject of his sexuality had become more and more tender over the past few months as he really started to understand his dilemma.

Harry drops his bag at his feet, storming towards Seth with his fist coming up, raised and about to swing when their coach appears to stop anything from happening.

Seth is frowning with his hands up in surrender, eyes wide as he realizes Harry was actually mad, “I was just joking around with you. Take a fucking joke.”

“The only joke in this locker room is your baseball abilities,” Harry snarls back, it was quite the insult coming from their captain and Seth's face drops even more than before.

“Styles, hit the road,” Coach Greggs orders, pointing towards the exit of the lock room with a serious expression - disappointment in his star player’s behavior.

When Harry gets home, he bypasses his mum and sister without even a hello before he’s running upstairs to his room and slamming the door shut.

He hates feeling like this.

Like he didn’t even know who he was.

How difficult could it be to figure out what or who you’re attracted to?

He was trying to convince himself he wasn’t broken, he knew all his body parts worked, it wasn’t anything but pure mental blockage.

Thinking about having someone lay next to him in his bed, they’re kissing, taking off clothes - Harry likes the idea of that.

However, it’s not just anyone, it’s not a random hookup.

He imagines it being someone he’s in love with, he’s so fucking fond of, and they know each other so intimately - its just them in their little world, no one else had this experience but them together.

But that doesn’t make any sense.

That’s not a thing.

Harry always felt normal beside this but this was major.

This was detrimental that he figured out what his issue was or he would never have a partner, get married, have kids.

Sure, he'd probably be a successful baseball player but may be the oldest virgin on this earth if he didn't shake this feeling.

Harry decides that same night that he's going to go against his instincts and just ask a girl to the dance - maybe once he put himself out there it will change.

And as Harry was thinking about it, he wouldn't necessarily be against asking a boy either but he's not sure he's ready to explore that idea right now.

He didn't feel excited at the aspect of having a date but instead just a sad relief that his teammates won't bother him anymore.

It felt lonely and isolating.

Harry brings flowers the next day, he knows which girl he wants to ask, Yazmin - he knew she had a crush on him and she was nice, not overly concerned with what others thought of her.

The other reason he is choosing her is because she is one of the many who had made it extremely obvious that she would instantly say yes to him if he asked and he was really not trying to get rejected either.

He feels bad he's not very enthusiastic when she accepts and draws him into a massive hug with her face buried in his neck.

To avoid coming off as rude, he hugs her back until it becomes too much for him and he's pulling back with a forced smile.

The lunchroom is filled with envious glares from other girls who had either been dropping hints to Harry that they wanted to go with him or they'd be too nervous to be forward and are boiling with envy.

Yazmin begins to talk about colors, her dress, everything that people should be looking forward to for the event.

Harry...well, he was just hoping that after he asked her and she accepted that he would feel something, anything towards her whether it was a bit of fondness or admiration.

There wasn’t a question that she was pretty, her long thick black curls that fell down her back, her warm brown eyes, and wide smile.

But there was nothing, absolutely nothing that was attracting him to her at this moment as she babbled on about cool versus warm tones.

After baseball practice, he wanders in to his mum and sister sitting at the dinner table - just beginning their meal as they chat.

When he drops his backpack and duffle bag near the entryway and joins them - he's tired from all the drills and doesn't say anything more than 'hi' as he begins digging in.

"Mrs. Fields told me today that you asked Yazmin to the dance," Anne smiles with bright eyes, she was proud that he was putting himself out there - she worried about him.

Harry feels his stomach churn, he's short when he replies, not looking up from his plate, "Yeah."

"I'm so happy for you, this is going to be so exciting," Anne says before taking a sip of her tea and patting his hand.

"She's pretty too," Gemma adds to the conversation, "I think you guys are going to make a cute couple."

"I'm not dating her," Harry says sharply, using a bit more force to stab at his vegetables, "It's just an invite to a stupid dance. That's it."

"I know, dear. It's just that we haven’t seen you interested in any girls at your school and I want you to enjoy your high school experience-"

"Can I not enjoy high school without a girlfriend? Is me not being not a star athlete enough?" Harry is getting loud which isn't like him to every raise his voice at his mother, "Why does everyone fucking care? I just want to be left the fuck alone about it!"

With that, Harry is slamming down his silverware, snatching his backpack off the floor, and storming up to his room with the door shutting and the lock being flicked.

Harry doesn't come out of his room that night and refuses to speak more than a few words to them through the door.

The next morning when Harry comes down for school, dressed and ready to go, Anne tries to smooth over the situation.

She didn't know what was going on with her son and that was a new uncomfortable feeling for her - usually he was open about everything with her.

Anne didn't know what she said that had triggered the response he'd given and despite how much she wanted to talk to him about it, she knew that she shouldn't force him.

"Harry," Anne speaks up when he steps into the kitchen to make his morning protein drink, " I want to talk about last night."

"There's nothing to talk about, s'fine," He brushes off stiffly as he reaches for one of his shaker bottles and container of protein mix.

"There is. I clearly upset you last night," Anne's voice is soft and cautious, "I'm sorry. I love no matter if you want to date or not, I'm proud and excited for you no ma-"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Harry bites back as he tries to scoop out the powder, hands shaking with some strong emotion, and it spills onto the countertop.

"I didn't say there was," Anne furrows her brow, she felt like they were on two difficult wavelengths and not really speaking the same language - having two different conversations.

"Shouldn't everyone care that I'm lined up to go pro or that with all this training, I still get straight A's," Harry scoffs as he pours the water and shakes it harshly, "Why is everyone so focused on who I'm going to sleep with?"

And with that, he's grabbing his stuff and leaving the house - Anne stunned as she sits at the breakfast nook unsure of how an innocent conversation at dinner has led to an ongoing tense back and forth with her son.

Yazmin is all over him and Harry is quickly realizing that him inviting her to the dance was also interpreted as him asking her to be his girlfriend.

But when she sat down next to him at lunch, her hand moving to intertwine with his - he didn't push her off but instead could only think about the whole lunch period about how he didn't want to be holding hands with her.

However, he noticed that all of his friends had their girlfriends cuddled up on them too and seemed to enjoy it when their girl curled into them or kissed their cheeks.

He played along.

In the locker room, after practice, well Harry wishes he could skip changing and go home because he was starting to not enjoy this time around his teammates.

"Yazmin, man," Hunter laughs as he sits on the bench to kick off his cleats, "It's no surprise you wait until the last minute to ask a girl out and you pick the hottest girl at school."

Harry shrugs as he shoves his jersey into his duffle, shoulders already tensing because of the conversation topic, "Yeah, she's nice.”

"Nice? You mean has nice tits," Luke adds and the other boys howl loudly as they mock breasts with their hands coming up their chests, "She's got huge ones. Let me know how they look when you get her topless."

Harry shakes his head, face turned away towards his locker- even though his teammates are being pigs, he wishes he could relate in a way.

He hadn't even looked at her chest or maybe he had but it didn't elicit any type of sexual response that made him want to get her naked.

It seemed like every other guy in the room had the identical response except him - normal teenage boys cared about boobs, really no matter who they belonged to.

"Yeah, I saw Casey's pair last night," Josh adds with a cocky smirk, "Let me touch 'em and everything."

Luckily, that conversation distracts the boys enough to lay off of Harry - now to focused on Josh's experience with his girlfriend.

They don't even notice when he slips out the door to head home as they all joke around and share stories.

Life was just..

Harry was miserable.

He dreaded going to school because of all the eyes on him, the fact that Yazmin wanted to be with him every free second, or his friends who were always talking about something girl or sex-related.

At practice, he got hounded by his teammates about the same things everyday and had to hear tales that he didn't assimilate to in the slightest.

At home, he was now in this weird limbo where he knows his mom and sister feel like they're walking on eggshells because of his moodiness that he refuses to talk about.

The ideas of relationship and sex were closing in on him from every angle and he just didn't want to talk about it.

He wished that when he was born someone just smacked a label on his forehead that said 'gay', 'straight', 'asexual', something so that he didn't have to figure this out himself.

Why was it so fucking difficult?

He felt broken, like his brain wasn't functioning correctly because he couldn't even decipher his own thoughts or feelings.

He'd always felt like this in a way but now that he is at the age where people begin to get into relationships and have sex - it's in the forefront of his mind.

He just has to get through the dance with Yazmin, that's it - he at least has to try to see this through with dating her.

Harry knows he's been pulling away from his family too but he doesn't feel like he's able to help it - he can’t explain what’s going on and he doesn’t want to be shunned by them too.

Because he feels like if he talked to them he'll blurt out, "I might not be straight" or "I don't know what's going on with me."

He used to think that he thought about it a lot but ever since he asked Yazmin to the dance - the only time he doesn't think about it is when he's on the field or working out.

Baseball is his only escape.

When all the boys are going out after the game, the weekend before the dance, they were all inviting their girlfriends to join them.

He didn't want to be an asshole so he knew it was only right to invite Yazmin too - he didn't want her to feel left out.

When they're all in the pizza shop, it's nearly ten at night, and they're all still sipping on Coke and eating pizza after winning the game.

Yazmin is sat next to him in the long booth, their thighs smooshed together, and she wraps her arm around his - resting her head on his shoulder.

It's a nice gesture and Harry feels guilty that he wants to push her away so he lets it happen and tries not to think too much about it.

The conversation turns into the afterparty for prom, they were renting a cabin in a nearby state park, and were planning to drink and have a campfire.

Harry had agreed to go but he really hadn't thought of the implications until Harry is driving Yazmin home that night and she seems nervous in the passenger seat.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asks as he navigates out of the pizza's shop's parking lot and towards her house.

"Yeah. It-It's just, are you excited about the dance? You weren't very talkative in there," She points out, she seems a bit disappointed but hides it behind a small smile.

Harry sighs, he doesn't know how to address it, so he lies, "I am excited, really. It's just been crazy with baseball. I'm sorry it didn't seem like I was in there. Just tired, I guess."

Yazmin perks up immediately, "It's okay, I just wanted to check. I'm used to you being really outspoken and talkative so I was just making sure."

Harry moves his hand over to her, resting it on the lower part of her thigh, near her knee, and squeezes, "It's gonna be fun."

"I can't wait for you to see me in my dress," She replies, her smile widened with his touch as she moves to put her hand over his.

"I'm sure you'll be gorgeous," He fake smiles, keeping his eyes on the road, they're nearly to her house and he presses the gas pedal a little harder.

As they pull up, Yazmin takes a deep breath before asking, "Are you going to bring protection to the cabin?"

Harry gives her a puzzled look, confused for a second by what she means by protection and she grimaces when she realizes he's confused.

"Condoms? I'm on birth control but I want to make sure we're being safe," She adds sheepishly, looking down at her hands.

How was she already talking about sex when they haven't even went further than kissing?

He didn't think he'd be expected to get intimate with someone this fast in a relationship.

"Oh, er," Harry stammers, just as embarrassed as her, his throat felt tight," Yeah, I'll definitely bring some. If that's what you uh, if that's what you want to do."

For objectively being the most popular boy in school, it was really quite ironic how backwards he was compared to the other people in his grade.

He was eighteen, everyone already assumes that he lost his virginity by this point, and it shows - he wonders if she can tell.

"I'd like to," Yazmin responds before leaning over to kiss him, she parts her lips and Harry matches her but it doesn't feel as nice as he thinks it's supposed to.

They kiss for a while in the car that night until his lips are puffy and swollen but Harry doesn't even remotely feel a twinge of any arousal.

As he drives home that night, he punches his steering wheel a few times- letting out frustrated screams into the car because he just wants to be like everyone else.

The actual event of prom goes fine.

It's easy smiling for pictures, eating at a fancy restaurant, and then going to the hotel where they all dance around to the music without anything being too serious.

The issue comes when they get to the cabin and everyone is starting to disappear from the campfire up to their own bedrooms with their significant others.

Harry waits as long as possible, until the flames legitimately start to fizzle out - he hadn't even touched any alcohol, neither had Yazmin.

She was getting impatient as she begins to wrap their hands together and kiss at his neck before finally asking, "Ready to go to our room?"

Harry agrees because he can't stay out here forever, he had bought condoms even though he was pretty sure they wouldn't be using them.

He bought them in the hopes that maybe, magically that once his body knew he had the oppurtunity to have sex that he would be interested enough to do so.

When they're up in the bedroom, Yazmin is on him, her lips finding his and kissing like they were that night in the car.

He can tell that she's nervous too but she seems much more excited and eager as she tugs off his shirt and runs her hands over his stomach before going for his athletic shorts.

She kneels down and Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut because when she pulls down his shorts - he's not at all hard.

It doesn't seem to deter her, she leans down to begin to stimulate him, and nothing happens as she does it - it’s not those amazing fireworks that his friends talk about.

He knows there’s a silent tear slipping from his eye when she finally pulls back when she realizes something isn't right.

"I'm sorry," Harry says with the most embarrassment he's ever felt in his life, "I'm- I'm sorry, Yazmin."

Yazmin pulls his shorts back up for him before standing in front of him, she puts her hand to his jaw and says quietly, "Look at me."

Harry blinks his eyes open, trying to hold in his tears as she looks at him with a concerned expression.

"Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn't mean to force you to do -" She begins to apologize profusely, getting upset herself.

It snaps him out of his own mind and his voice is firm when he interrupts her, "Hey, no. No, you didn't do anything wrong, I promise. It's me, you're-you're wonderful and pretty. It-s me."

Yazmin’s face washes with relief as he speaks, she reaches to take his hands but it's more of a friendly gesture.

"Are you..." She trails off, not wanting to make any assumptions about him.

"I don't know," He says honestly, choking up a bit on the words, "I'm really trying to figure it out and I just feel broken. This proves I am."

"You're not broken, Harry," Yazmin smiles as she shakes her head like he’s silly, "You're just figuring it out and that's okay."

"I know you don't owe me anything after all this but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone," Harry mumbles as he laughs a big self-deprecating.

"My lips are sealed. If anyone asks, we had amazing hot sex," She giggles as she walks over to her bag to pull out pajamas, "Want to watch a movie?"

And his prom night actually wasn't as awful as it started out, Yazmin and him laid in the massive king bed and watched a few older horror movies and made fun of the bad acting.

At some point they drift off to sleep, when they wake up, they're not necessarily cuddled together but Yazmin's arm is slung over his stomach.

He thinks to himself, this isn't too bad, and just that little thought alone makes him feel like he may not be as lost of a cause as he sometimes feels.

Yazmin and him stayed friends after they 'broke up' and she never spoke a word about what happened that night and to her, he'll always be eternally grateful that kind, understanding people exist.

The summer before college, he realized that he needed to actually take the time to explore his sexuality through research instead of continuing a pity party for himself.

He could narrow down that he wasn't entirely straight because the idea of him being in love with someone other than a female didn't sound obscure or unappealing to him.

He didn’t think it mattered who he fell in love with, it wouldn’t be purely based on their gender.

The idea of sex didn't repusle him, he wanted to have sex and he knew that he wasn't asexual.

He wanted to have a partner and have sex.

That's when it stuck with him.

Everytime he thought about having sex with someone, it was a partner, someone he was in a strong romantic relationship with - but he didn't think that was a specific sexuality.

One day, he's watching some reality television show, and when they're introducing the contestants - someone on the screen identifies themselves as demisexual.

He'd never heard that term before and he curiously puts it into the search engine on his phone to figure out the definition.

That's when he reads the definition that changes it all.

"Demisexuality is a sexual orientation in whcih a person feels sexually attracted to someone only after they've developed a close emotion with them."

Harry felt like he was having an epiphany and that the world fell still for a moment - it was like finding the puzzle piece he had been missing for years of his life.

It finally fucking made sense.

It made so much sense that he started crying, full on sobbing as he held his head with disbelief that something clicked.

Anne, who was in the kitchen, making dinner, hears the sniffles and rushes in, concerned when she finds her son crying which was completely out of the norm.

"Harry, honey," Anne coos softly, sitting down next to him and brushing his hair off his forehead before wrapping her arm around his shoulders, "What's gotten you so upset?"

"M'not upset, mom," Harry chuckles as she tries to wipe away some of his tears with the sleeve of her shirt, "I just-, I don't know how you'll react when I tell you."

"Is it bad?" Anne asks worriedl, tugging him in closer like he was still a little boy and not a big, tall athlete that was way larger than her.

"I-I'm, it's about me," Harry stutters, his thoughts now racing for a different reason, this wasn't on how he planned to tell his mother any of this but he didn't want to lie to her either.

He wanted to be himself and he wanted his family to know who he is.

"I've been struggling with, erm, who I am for a really really long time," Harry begins, his eyes glued to his feet, "And I..I finally figured it out."

"I'll love you no matter what you're going to tell me, Harry Edward,” Anne says firmly, tilting his chin so that their eyes meet and he can tell how serious she is.

"I'm pansexul and demisexual," Harry breathes out, saying it into the unvierse for the first time, it felt like a massive weight has been lifted off of his chest, "It means that I am attracted to people regardless of their gender and that I'm only sexually attracted to that person after we established a emotional bond.”

"How long have you known?" Anne asks as she holds him closer.

"I-I've known that I wasn't st-straight for a long time but I-I didn't know what exactly I was until now," Harry stutters out through tears, Anne can't remember the last time she saw her son cry and his face was damp with emotion.

"I am so proud of you," Anne murmurs but her voice was firm and serious, she moves to cup his cheeks until he's making eye contact with her, "So so proud of who you are."

"Y-You're proud of me?" Harry repeats back in a whisper, his heart felt like it was beating fast enough it was going to leap out of his chest.

"Of course I am," She laughs softly, like it was ridiculous that he could think that she wouldn't be filled with pride, "I love you so much. My little boy."

She kisses both of his cheeks before wiping the tears away once more.

Anne isn't expecting it when Harry hugs her tightly, his face tucked into her shoulder as he hides away for a moment.

She rubs his back lightly and just holds him as he sniffles, she hadn't cuddled him like this is so long but he clung to her for a long while as she whispered words of love.

Gemma is the second person that he decides that he needs to come out - he's not as worried about her reaction as his mum but it still wasn't going to be fun for him.

She had gotten home from work and disappeared into her room to most likely working on college homework like she did nearly everyday.

Harry knocks and when she calls for him to come in, he's sheepish as he comes to sit on her bed next to where she has her textbooks splayed out.

"I have something to tell you," Harry starts off after taking a deep inhale of breath, why was he so nervous? It was just Gemma.

But everyone reacts differently, people he think would be supportive of him may not agree with it and give him pushback or worse disown him.

He was nervous because he couldn't lose his sister but he also couldn't stand not living his truth any longer.

"If you took my laptop charger one more time and broke it, I swear to -" She begins with a frown as she closes her book to glare at him.

"No, it's...well," Harry begins to trip over what he wants to say and now maybe isn't the right time, maybe he should think it through more than this, "Forget about it."

Gemma realizes quickly that something isn't right, she reaches out to grab his arm and tug him back down, "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I have something that I want to tell you," He reiterates with a sigh, "I just don't know how you'll feel about it."

Harry explains what he had explained earlier to his mother to her, she listens intently and doesn't try to crack any jokes while he's speaking.

After he's done with what he feels like is rambling, he hesitantly looks up to meet her gaze.

"How did you think I would feel?" Is the first thing she asks.

Harry's brow furrows in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"You said you were worried about how I would feel about you telling me," Gemma explains from before he told her.

"Ju-Just that you'd be disappointed in me," Harry hates that he's been crying so much lately but he begins to sniffle.

"Oh, Harry," Gemma titters, swiping her school things off the bed so she can drag him into a hug, just like his mother did, "I would never be disappointed in you for being who you are. I love you. I'm happy that you finally feel like you've figured it out."

"I hope I find someone," Harry chuckles, wiping his face on his hoodie, "I hope I find someone who will understand, that I'll be able to fall in love with and have a normal relationship."

"It will happen," Gemma hums as she pulls back, "Just like with you figuring this out. It won't happen overnight. Now get out, I have to study."

It really doesn't happen overnight or anytime soon.

He will say that getting in to college and knowing his sexuality even if he hadn't been with anyone had let him slip back into the cocky role that he was used to.

Harry had no problem flirting with girls and guys at frat parties to keep up appearances - even though he wasn't interested in sleeping with them.

It kept his teammates from questioning him because when they saw him at parties, giving a girl his million dollar smile and telling her she's cute - they figured he was sleeping with them.

He didn't enjoy going to parties because it was only fun to fake flirt for a little bit before he wanted to leave because people were trying to get him alone in a bedroom.

Luckily, baseball and sponsorships took up a majority of him time so he wasn't expected at many frat celebrations with how rigorous his workouts and training schedule were.

Tonight though, he didn't have an excuse to not come because they had three days off that weekend.

Everyone convinced him to come, it wasn't a bad time really but he couldn't drink because he'd be kicked off the team if he got hit with an underage drinking fine.

(They definitely wouldn't kick their star player off the team but he would be in deep shit and would much rather avoid that.)

Harry had been trying to get to know people on campus, trying to create the emotional attachment that he was searching for but it wasn't easy.

It felt fucking impossible.

He learned very quickly that he couldn 't just will it to magically happen and that he has issues building those bonds with anyone.

There was a girl named Halee who he had been talking to for the past few weeks, they met in one of his statistics classes and he tried to make an effort with her.

He took her out to dinner twice, listened to her talk for ages, and he waited to feel the spark after consistently seeing her for a month.

There was nothing there.

She was at the party tonight, they hadn't gone any further than making out because Harry didn't want to force himself to do that.

Halee manages to get him alone in his frat bedroom later that night, stating that she needed to talk to him alone, and he knows it’s bad that he’s hoping she wants to break up.

But when his bedroom door shut, her lips were on his and she was pushing him back towards the bed - the exact opposite of what he wanted.

When he falls backwards onto his bed, she's crawling on top of him to straddle him, never taking her lips from his as her thighs come onto either side of him.

Harry's hands come to her hips, knowing he should try to enjoy it but also that it was no use despite how hard she grinded her hips into his.

After a few minutes, she pulls back and palms at him - completely expecting to find him hard and ready for her but...nothing.

He's not hard.

Halle gives him a confused look, she'd never had an issue with a college guy’s libido before, and she knew she was attractive.

Harry can feel his face turning red with shame but manages to give her a reasonable lie, "I think it's just because I've drank so much. I'm pretty wasted."

That seems to satisfy her concern because she giggles and drags him back to the party, promising that they can try again when they haven't been drinking so much.

However, he knows that's not going to happen because he fully plans on sending her an 'im sorry, its just not working out' text tomorrow morning.

Harry doesn't stay at the party much longer before he's retreating up to his room and locking the door to shut everyone out.

Sure, he's become more acepting of his own sexuality but it doesn't mean that it doesn't fucking suck that he can't just have a casual hook up.

The fact is the only sexual interactions he's had are where girls are coming onto him, he has to make an excuse or they'll see he's not physically into it which makes everything ten times worse.

Harry feels that sinking feeling coming back that he remembers well from his senior year of high school.

He remembers thinking that because he finally identified what sexuality he was that it was the code to cracking his life long struggle.

He wonders often whether he's truly waiting to meet the right person or if it's just something that is wrong with him.

The fake flirting, turning people down who come onto him, dating people he has no real interest in.

At some point it doesn't feel worth it to try to find his person , he wonders if there just isn't a person for him and that's a really lonely thought.

(Take The Hint) - One Shot

This girl makes him want to scream.

He didn't mean to break her fucking ipad and she has the nerve to run to the school newspaper and write an article about him.

He had apologized when it happened but she hadn't been willing to accept it, that wasn't his fault.

Harry had never had such a critique in a school paper before and he wasn't going to stand for it.

He doesn't know why he feels the need to go back and forth with this journalist from the paper but he can't stay away.

After their back and forths, he finds himself bringing her food a few times to the newspaper's office after he gets done with a long day of training.

Harry's intruigued that this girl doesn't seem to give a fuck about who he is and really hasn't given him the time of day.

But he finds himself looking forward to picking up a sandwich for her so that she can try to refuse it and give him a shy smile when he doesn't take no for an answer.

It sounds a bit dumb, Harry has spent so much of his time worried about finding the right person or building this emotional bond that he fucking misses it when it's right in front of him.

When YN walks out onto the field that day, leans over the fence and connects their lips for the first time - his insides feel like they're going to combust.

His stomach feels warm with excitement, he's eager to kiss her back, he wants to kiss her back and not stop for anything.

When she pulls away, he wants to pull her back, and join their lips again - he's never wanted to do that before.

Then when she asks, "Are you going to ask me out or what?"

Holy fucking hell.

He has never said yes sooner.

Harry was an idiot.

He didn't see that their back and forth over the past few months (even if a few of those were fights) was flirting and building this god damn connection.

It didn't seem like it at the time because in the past, he had to make conscious efforts to build relationships.

It happened naturally with her, he didn't have to think about 'wanting' to kiss her, forcing time together - he wanted to do all those things without having to plan it.

As he's walking back to the frat from practice that night, his mind is racing because he thinks he might have finally done it.

He found his person.

Harry didn't want to give his hopes up but he just hasn't felt like this before - he's had hundreds of opportunities with the smartest, most attractive people and he's never gotten that warm feeling in his stomach around any of them.

He was thinking about the next time he would get to kiss her and really kiss her - it made him feel something new but it was thrilling.

Harry has never felt more nervous in his life, he'd changed his outfit at least five times, and fluffed his hair a hundred more.

It was funny, outside looking in, despite how cocky Harry appeared to everyone - he really wasn't like that at all.

He hoped that YN would like him and he was worried because even though she forgave him, they really didn’t get off on the right foot.

There was another anxious thought bubbling up, what if he's getting too excited and it is another relationship that falls flat.

Harry nearly wants to back out because he doesn't think he can be let down like that again - he just wants to be loved and love someone.

They're set to meet at a small italian restaurant off of campus, Lorenzo's, and Harry arrives first.

Shet not there yet but he's also a few minutes early, he's trying to talk himself out of a nervous breakdown when a group approaches him, a group of middle-aged men who want to talk to the Harry Styles.

Harry smiles politely, answering questions about the upcoming games, and what he thought of their last win.

When they finally bid him goodbye after a few minutes, the group disperse and waiting patiently is YN with a small smile.

"You're really popular, huh? The Harry Styles," She greets, it was teasing but not in a mean way more curious than anything.

And Harry's mouth felt dry because she looked fucking beautiful like the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

In a form-fitting orange dress, her skin tone was complimenting the vibrant color and her curves were other worldly. ***

Harry knows, absolutely knows he wasn't just trying to make this work, he was undoubtedly attractive to her.

It was the fact that he wanted to see what lay beneath the dress, the way her breasts sat made it hard to control his gaze.

More importantly, her smile was wide and heartbreakingly gorgeous as she stared a bit confused, waiting for him to say something.

"You are gorgeous," Harry manages, it wasn't a line, it was the truth, "Sorry, you took my breath away for a moment if I'm being honest."

YN lets out a shy giggle, her hands smoothing the sides of her dress as a nervous tick, as she steps closer to him.

"You don't look too bad yourself, quite handsome actually," YN compliments, reaching out for Harry's hand so he can guide them inside.

The cocky attitude drops over dinner, well it never appeared in the first place, and YN was appreciative of that.

YN was intelligent, funny, kind, and quite honestly, everything Harry's ever wanted as she snorts out her drink at a dumb joke he makes.

She kicks off heels halfway through the appetizer and rests her foot on his thigh like they've known each other for ages.

He can't help but reach down and squeeze her ankle, fingers dancing along the ridge of the bone, and laughing when he tickles her enough to make her squeak.

For the first time, it doesn't feel forced, he doesn't have to remember that he should want to touch his date.

Harry is interested in everything she has to say from her experience on the newspaper to how she accidentally broke into a museum while she was in high school.

He finds himself laughing genuinely, not counting down the minutes until the date is over, in fact, he doesn't want it to end.

"You're actually a nice guy," YN murmurs towards the end of dinner when their plates are near empty, "Who would have guessed."

Harry winces at the dig, putting his silverware down and looking at her seriously, "I am sorry about how I treated you. I was being a douche. I don't always feel like I have a lot going for me and baseball is what I'm good at and to have that article written was a hit on my ego."

It was the most honest he's ever been with someone but he didn't even think twice about revealing his most vulnerable thoughts to her.

YN's face twist in confusion, "What do you mean you don't have a lot going for you? You have a guarantee in going pro, you have a ton of friends, and you have no shortages of girls around you."

Harry knew he wasn't ready to delve into his sexuality conversation with her, he hasn't ever talked to anyone outside of his family and Niall about it.

Instead of admitting what really makes him feel low - his sexuality and lack of relationships, he just shrugs and says, "I don't know. It's just..It's not alway easy."

"I imagine, it's a lot of pressure on you at all times. Everyone watching your every move," She agrees, her eyes are soft and she can tell Harry's thinking about something.

She doesn't force him to tell her, instead she reaches across the table for his hand and takes it in hers - but she doesn't let go.

Throughout dessert, they hold hands across the table until Harry is feeding YN a piece of strawberry cheesecake and it ends up on her lips instead of in her mouth.

"You did that on purpose," YN laughs, her tongue peeking out to wipe the sweetness away but misses the corner of her lips.

"Missed a spot," Harry chuckles, he leans over to wipe it off with his thumb and when he does, she takes his thumb in her mouth - just for a mere moment to lick it off with a cheeky smile.

Harry feels himself actually start to harden in his pants and he almost wants to panic because that's never happened before - even when girls have tried way more sexy things to get his attention.

It had been a simple but intimate gesture, it wasn't even groundbreaking to YN, she went back to eating her gelato without another thought about the interaction.

Harry had to will himself to calm down, his mind racing to her plump lips and the way it wrapped around his thumb.

If he had any doubt that YN was his person, it was completely gone now - he hadn't even known her long but to say he was infatuated with her was an understatement.

He couldn't find one thing about her that he didn't like from her beauty to her intellect to the way she giggles with a little snort when something was extra funny.

It felt like his world was shaping to revolve around hers but that scared him on the same end that he hadn't known her that long - their emotional connection was just that strong.

After the date, Harry offers to walk her home because she lives in the campus dorms - just like at dinner, very soon into the walk she takes off her heels and shoves them in her purse.

Harry doesn't know if he should make a move, this was all so fucking new, and he felt like he was years behind on what he should know, basics about dates.

YN wasn't hesitant or coy, she quickly intertwined their hands as they walk, bumping shoulders as she points out where her classes are at certain buildings and what she hates about some of her awful professors.

Harry wants to cry because it's just so nice to hold someones fucking hand, that's all he's wanted for so long.

When they arrive at her building, YN digs out her keycard, giving him a pouty expression, "I'm sad our date’s over. I really did have a good time."

"I had an amazing time," Harry tells her seriously, "Will you go out with me again?"

YN squints up at him, with puckered lips, "I'll have to think about it."

Harry's heart drops.

"Oh my god," YN bursts out laughing, "Your face. Of course, I'll go on another date with you, I had fun."

"S'not funny," Harry mumbles grumply as she giggles at his reaction.

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you," YN hums, stepping into his space and leaning up until their lips meet.

Harry's frozen for a moment, it feels like sparks, like everything finally makes sense but he doesn't realize that he actually physically froze because YN is pulling back.

"Shit, I'm sorry I though-" She begins to apologize profusely, thinking she read the situation wrong.

Harry takes a deep breath, channeling his confidence, and he steps forward into her space now - hands coming to cup her face and bring their lips together passionately.

Their lips move in perfect synchronization, his tongue swiping against her lips until she opens, and he can get entrance.

Her hand comes up to his neck, keeping him close as they kiss, it feels like his first real kiss, and he can't get enough.

When they finally pull back for air, her lips are swollen and she has a starry-eyed smile on her face.

"Goodnight, Harry," YN murmurs softly, pecking his lips one last time before swiping her card and going into her building.

Fucking hell, he was gone for her.

He could not stop thinking about her.

Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes squinted when she was teasing him - this had to be what being in love felt like.

Could it be this easy?

As soon as he gets home, he sends her a text.

Thanks for giving me a chance. I really had a great time. Are you free next Friday?

It barely takes any time for her to respond and he finds his lips turning down at her response.

Are you fucking with me?

He decides to take the more cautious route, reading his text conversation, and he doesn't think he said anything wrong.

No? Did I offend you??

Yes.

As soon as he receives the message he's typing out an apology for whatever he might have said to trigger her to be upset but right before he hits send, another text pops in.

Offended you're not asking me to hang out sooner.

Harry totally does not squeal like a school girl as he smiles stupidly at his phone for the next few moments before remebering to actually text back.

I have a game tomorrow and Sunday but we could hang out Monday night x

They agree on that.

When the next day comes, he feels more energized than ever to do good on the field today - he always thrived but YN was really boosting his confidence and overall happiness.

He struts on to the field, he always displayed arrogance on the field no matter how he was feeling on the inside - he wanted to intimidate people and let them know that he's the best.

At the mound, he kicks the dirt a bit and adjusts his hat in a little ritual he always did before scanning the crowd - it was always a full house in the stadiums because of him.

His eyes do a quick skim of the crowd but stop when he's sees YN sitting in the stands without her iPad or notepad - she's sitting with a friend.

Harry's heart leaps as he gives a dimply smile that was exclusively for and he tips his cap towards her in greeting.

She blows him an exaggerated kiss and a small wave as the announcers begin the game.

Harry doesn't know if he's ever had a game that good - he had been on fire the whole time, multiple strikeouts, a home-run, and overall good plays.

When the game’s over after the post-game interview and compliments, instead of heading straight to the showers, he wants to talk to YN but she's no longer in the stands.

He tries not to think too hard about it as he goes into the locker room to shower, in a noticeable less than happy mood.

Harry's actually the last one out, he drags his feet getting into the showers, and lets the hot water just hit against his sore muscles.

By the time he gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist, and stepping over to his duffel - he nearly screams when someone appears in the locker-room.

"What's taking you so long? I've been waiting out there for ages," YN complains with a raised eyebrow, a smirk on her face when she's met with his strong, damp chest - his pec twitches.

"Er," Harry stammers as he stares wide eyed at her, "I didn't think you were waiting for me."

YN shakes her head, "Why wouldn't I? Am I being too subtle about dropping hints that I like you?"

Harry’s chest seizes because he doesn't want her to think that, "No no, it's me. M'sorry I'm fucking this up. I just, yeah..."

I just can't tell you why yet.

Be patient with me.

"I know you've been with a lot of people, okay? I'm not here to use you and lose you. I want to see where this goes," YN seems frustrated as she explains herself.

"I do too. M'sorry," He apologizes again, the opposite of the cocky asshole she met, "I'm really, really into you."

And you're the first person I've said that to without lying.

"Yeah?" Her words are quiet, bashful as she glances down at her feet for a moment, like she wanted to hear the affirmations from him.

"Of course, you're gorgeous, smart, out of my league, if I'm being honest," He tells her with a raspy chuckle.

"I think you have it backwards," YN murmurs but she's walking towards him, and just like yesterday, kisses him fiercely.

God, he's never going to get tired of this.

He instantly reciprocates her advance, hand moving to the back of her head to cradle her skull and keep her close.

His stomach muscles twitch when her hand comes to his chest, rubbing up and down his abdominal definition, and thumb teasing at his happy trail.

It indescribable how just the simple touch is turning him on, he can feel himself harden at the movement and he can't help but push his tongue into her mouth.

They get startled when a janitor steps into the lockeroom, a tired look on his face when he spots them, "I'm locking up. Get lost, kids."

YN giggles as Harry flushed with embarrassment before she's leaving him to get changed and waiting outside for him to walk her home.

The next three weeks were an absolute whirlwind of hanging out in YN's dorm room cuddled together on the tiny bed, watching movies in his room in the frat, Harry stopping by the newspaper office constantly after practice to make sure she ate and then walkingher home, and then on the weekends they were going on dates and YN was coming to watch his games.

He knew that he was in love, he didn't care what anyone had to say about a certain amount of time it took or it was too soon.

Harry had found his person.

The puzzle piece that was missing his whole entire life was wrapped up in a gorgeous girl who bullied him, cuddled him, and gave him attitude when she didn't get her way.

He couldn't imagine anyone better.

There was one major issue, Harry had yet to tell her about his sexuality or the fact that he was a virgin.

He didn't blame her for making assumptions that he had a high body count with the way he flirted at parties - that was in fact the appearance that he was trying to give off even though it was further from the truth.

Harry wanted to tell her but when revealing that he was demisexual that was also telling her that he was head over heels for her.

And even though YN seemed nothing but understanding and accepting, it's different when you're in a relationship with the person.

She doesn't know whether it would matter if he was pansexual, if it would freak her out that he wasn't soley attracted to females.

As much fun as he was having, enjoying this new relationship, there was a lot of anxiety - he hadn't felt this much weight on his chest since high school with Yazmin and prom.

They hadn't gone further than kisses but it wasn't because of lack of arousal, he was so attractive to her that it didn't make sense.

However, up to this point, she hadn't pushed to do anything further than that and he wasn't ready to take the first step either.

It's a standoff until it's not.

YN and Harry are in his frat, they prefered it there for his queen size bed and he had a bigger television that they could binge watch shows on.

It was after a mid-week game, they had done exceptional, and Harry was truly convinced that YN was his good luck charm.

It was late, they both had class tomorrow but YN was sleeping over for the first time because Harry couldn't part with her.

They were in the middle of watching Great British Bake-Off and critiquing their bakes like either of them could do anything close to as good.

YN is tucked into his side, head of his chest but she squirms until she's looking up at him with a frown.

"Whassit?" Harry rumbles as he blinks heavily, his hand coming up to brush her hair out of her face - he couldn't get over how fucking pretty she was.

"Didn't kiss me enough today," YN huffs like she just realized the problem, her bottom lip pouted out.

"Didn't give you enough kisses, huh?" Harry repeats with a raised brow, his thumb coming to pull at her lower lip, "I haven't been very good to you, have I?"

"Absolutely awful boyfriend," YN agrees and everytime she refers to him as that, his stomach flutters.

"Or maybe I've just given it to you too much so now you're a demanding lil' thing," He hums but he's pulling her up so that their lips meet.

Harry can't help that he gets hard everytime they make out, maybe it’s a rookie thing or maybe most guys that's normal for - he wasn't sure.

But Harry and YN had never acknowledged it and as weird as it sounded - it felt good to get hard even if there wasn't relief at that time because it’s more pleasure and arousal than he's ever felt.

There was no way he wasn’t truly fucked - this girl held everything in her hands, she had so much fucking control over it and she didn't have one fucking clue.

YN's hand is rested on his stomach but at some point she moves it, she moves it right over his bulge in his nike running shorts, and palms at him.

Harry moans embarrassingly loud and sucks in a gasp at the sensation of someone else touching him like this for the first time.

YN pulls back startled like she hurt him and begins to apologize because of his visceral reaction but Harry joins their lips needily before murmuring, "Please baby, don't stop."

"Okay, whatever you want," She simpers quietly, her lips coming to his neck to kiss and nip at the skin as she feels out the shape of him over his thin shorts - thick and ready for her.

Harry is trying to keep his eyes open but it feels so new and euphoric that his lids are heavy as she thumbs over the sensitive tip.

"Take your shirt off," YN requests, not taking her hand off as he rustles hurriedly to get it over his head, "Slow down, we're not in a rush."

It was lightly teasing but it made insecurities tick a bit because he didn't want to embarass himself in his first sexual experience.

His stomach is sucking in at every other touch, his butterfly tattoo dancing as his ribcage outlines against his skin.

Her hand lazily moves upwards again but is taking the liberty of dipping into his shorts and briefs.

He twitches when her hand wraps around him, thumb tracing along the vein on the underside before circling at his already wet tip.

"M'gonna take my time with you," YN promises as she helps him slip the rest of his clothes off, her eyes locking with where he's hard for her.

He feels self-conscious, the first person to see this part of him in this intimate way - it was the most vulnerable he ever felt.

"You're so pretty," She murmurs happily as she begins to give him light strokes, "Makes sense why you have big dick energy. You're massive."

He has to clench his teeth to avoid coming at her words because it was all too much as he kept his hips on the mattress as she twists and tugs with the perfect amount of pressure.

"I-It feels so good, baby," Harry breathes out, he's on the verge of panting when her hand comes to roll his balls delicately.

"Yeah?" YN muses with a devious smile before she's ducking down to lick at the swollen head before suckling at it.

"Fuck, m'sorry," Harry groans as he feels his orgasm start, "S'good, you're so good. Fuck, you're amazin, sweetheart."

He can tell YN is a bit taken aback by his lack of stamina but she swallows as he pulses in her mouth.

When she sits back up, Harry is trying to catch his breath, "I'm so sorry. I just-"

"Stop apologizing," YN tells him firmly, leaning over to pepper kisses over his chest and tummy, "That was perfect. You look so handsome when you come."

Harry preens at the praise, he knows she’s probably just making sure he doesn't fell bad but it seemed genuine.

"Let me take care of you," Harry says after a few more moments, he knew his cheeks were flushed and his chest red with a blush of postorgasm haze and embarassment, what a mixture.

"You any good at it?" She jokes as she playfully licks his nipple before moving to take her own shirt off.

Harry freezes, he knows he probably looks like a deer in headlights before quickly wiping it off his face.

He doesn't respond but instead knocks her hands out of the way to pull the shirt over her head himself.

Her breasts were fucking perfect where they sat in a plain black bra with a little lace detailing on the edge of the cups.

Harry didn't know if he would survive this, he felt like a stupid teeanger as his hands were shaking with nerves.

This was more nerve-wracking then when he played in the playoffs for baseball or when a college scout came to watch his game.

He sits up and rearranges them until she's laying on her back and he's on top where he feels like he has a bit more control of the situation.

By some grace of god, YN's bra unlatches with a front clip and when he undoes it, it falls to either side and her tits bounce out.

"Holy shit, darling," Harry huffs out in awe, her nipples were already hard and so fucking pretty.

"What?" YN asks in a mere whisper, when he looks up at her - his heart sinks because he was so focused on himself that he didn't even think about how she might be feeling.

It was obvious that YN was a bit nervous too as he revealed her like he might not like how she looks - she’s squirmy and doesn't look him in the eye.

"How are you so fucking beautiful?" Harry shakes his head in disbelief, moving to cup them and they're soft in grip, warm, and good god, he's in love with them already, "Look at you, s'unfair."

YN lets out a pleased giggle and Harry can't wait any longer, he's fucking down to wrap his lips around one of the buds and suckle as his other hand rolls her other nipple.

"Oo-oh," She gasps out, pushing her chest into him, and he was sure that he wanted to hear her moans of pleasure for the rest of his life.

She was responsive to his touch, whimpering and asking for more through her body language as he switched between them and teased them until they were damp and puffy.

"Please, H. I'm so wet," YN begs as her hips move in frustration, her hand weaving into his hair and scratching at his scalp.

"You're wet for me?" Harry pulls back, their eyes meeting and he couldn't believe - he was turning her on even if he didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

"Stop teasing me," She demands with a pout.

He really wasn't.

Harry felt like he was in a movie in a way.

He dreamed about this for so long.

Being so in love with someone that he would want to have sex with them.

It happened and it was happening right now.

If it didn't feel so good, he wouldn't believe it.

Harry may or may not have utilized the internet to search about how to please a female.

He hadn't wanted to come into this and not be able to return the favor - it wasn't that he was uneducated about sex or didn't know the logistics of how to do it.

He didn't want it to be just okay.

He wants to show her how much he's truly gone for her by making her feel the same pleasure she's give to him.

Harry takes his time kissing down her soft belly, biting at the plush on her hips to make her squeak before he's shimmying her shorts and underwear off.

Harry has never felt so primal in his life when he's met with her mound and puffy folds, glistening with arousal, and he wanted to devour her.

The hesitance is gone as soon as he sees her for the first time.

He's spreading her legs and nuzzling straight in between her folds, lapping at her with excited, eager strokes.

Fuck, she even tasted good.

"Harry, fuck," YN mewls when he finds her clit, it wasn't hard with how swollen and hard it was for him - dragging it between his lips and suctioned it.

Her legs are restless like she wants to close them, her hands balling into the sheets as he relentlessly goes at her.

"Oh my god," She gasps as she bucks upwards, trying to ride his tongue - it was by far the hottest thing that had ever happened to him.

He couldn't believe he was actually doing a good job his first time, he knew she was actually close because he could feel her throbbing and getting wetter for him.

Her hands move to his hair, gripping it to keep him close to her center as she punches her hips up to find the friction she needs - it was beautiful watching her chase her pleasure without any shame.

He wanted to do this with her for the rest of his life and he knew it wasn't just the sex talking at this point.

She was it for him.

His chest swells in pride when she finally tips over the edge, a continuous stream of soft whining moans out of her mouth as her hips slow down and rest back against the bed - her limbs loosening.

Her face was damp with perspiration, long locks stuck to the side of her neck, and her chest was heaving and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath.

"That was the best orgasm I've ever had," YN murmurs in awe, goading him back up until they’re kissing in short little pecks and he's brushing that sticky hair off her skin, "You're so good at that."

Harry's internally preening with the compliment, thrilled that he was able to get her off the first time ever doing something like this.

It was dangerous though, he knew already that he was going to crave her, she tasted amazing, it was addictive to be around her.

Everything from her smile to her laugh to the way her folds glistened with her arousal - it was all consuming.

Harry knows the longer they're seeing each other that he needs to tell her but the second he tells her about his sexuality, he's basically confessing his love to her.

He begins to feel like he's living this lie because YN occasionally makes a joke about how experienced he is or how many people he'd been with and he doesn't ever deny it.

To be fair, he never confirms it either but that even feels like lying.

One day while they're at lunch in a little bistro on campus, tucked away in the corner so people don't continuously harass Harry like always.

"I..I shouldn't be surprised at how good you were," YN murmurs shyly, they were talking about last night and when he used his mouth for the first time, "It's just...for me, I've only been with two other guys and it wasn't at all like that."

"They sound like idiots who didn't deserve to give it to you anyways," Harry has to swallow down the possessiveness of two other people having her like that.

She was his.

YN shrugs noncommittal as she sips on her peach tea, "They were okay but not as experienced as you. They hadn't been able to make me, you know...finish."

Cue his chest swelling with pride once again.

YN glances down at her plate, suddenly not making eye contact with Harry and he frowns at that, "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head, letting out a short laugh, "I just feel embarrassed, I guess. I know that I don't have as much experience as you. I've heard the stories of you taking all those girls upstairs at parties. It's not, it doesn't bother me but I...I just worry I'm not going to be good enough or compare."

Harry's heart sinks into his stomach and he knows now would be the absolutely perfect time to actually come clean that all those experiences were fake.

He chokes though, his throat tightens up and he can't find the words but he can reassure her, and he's not lying when he tells her, "Hey, I've never had a better experience than last night and m'not lying. You were amazing, fuckin' perfect. I can still taste how sweet you-"

"Ssh," YN giggles, the mood already lightened again as she chucks a chip at him because she doesn't know if anyone is eavesdropping, "I get it. Thank you."

"Anytime, babydoll," Harry drawls cheekily, exerting confidence when inside he's absolutely panicking.

Tonight it is the night.

Harry has nearly canceled three times because he doesn't know if he can do this.

He's so fucking in love with YN.

So fucking gone for her already that he doesn't know how he could lose her if this isn't something she's okay with.

Logically, he knows that if she doesn't accept him for who he is that she's not worth his time but fuck, he loved her.

YN was it for him, he didn't care how early it was or if you’re ot supposed to say that yet because they haven't been together long.

It was the truth though.

Harry wanted to try to make it as casual as possible when he brought it up so he invited her to sleepover after an away game.

He'd organized his room, cleaned his sheets, bought her favorite snacks, and laid out a shirt that she'd want to sleep in.

When she knocked on his bedroom door, one of his mates must have let her in, his hands were physically shaking and his smile was forced through nerves.

"Hi," YN huffs as she brushes past him to drop her overnight bag, "I brought a bag of chips but Niall literally stole them out of my hand and ran away like a little goblin -"

"I have something I need to tell you," Harry blurts out as he quickly shuts the door and leans up against it - he felt like he was about to have a full blown panic attack.

YN freezes from her rant, eyes meeting his with concern at his behavior and his body language, "Is everything okay, H?"

Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and tries to breathe out of his mouth, voice quaking, "I-I don't know."

Fuck, why did he feel like he was going to cry.

"Harry," YN murmurs from where she's sat on his bed now, "You're freaking me out a bit. What's going on?"

"I haven't told you something, important about me," Harry sniffles, he couldn't control the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, and he felt like that scared high schooler all over again, "And I'm scared you won't want to be with me if I tell you."

YN's brow furrows, she doesn't know how to respond because she doesn't know what he's been hiding from her.

"Tell me," She asks softly, her heart was pounding too - she didn't know if he was going to break up with her or tell her he already cheated but she was worried just as much as he was.

"M'not straight," Harry finally whispers, looking down at his feet and avoiding her gaze all together, "I'm pansexual and demisexual. I haven’t been with anyone other than you, ever. God, I know I sound like such a fucking loser."

"Come here," YN responds firmly, her eyes serious and he can't read her expression which makes everything worse as he cries, sniffling and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand.

He listens though, cautiously walking until he's in front of her - eyes still looking anywhere but at her.

"Look at me," YN prompts once again, waiting until his watering green eyes finally meet hers, "I love you, no matter what your sexual preference is or how many people you've been with."

"You-You love me?" Harry stutters out with another sob, he felt like such a baby but his heart was fluttering and butterflies were turning his stomach.

"I thought I've made it obvious but yes, I do," YN smiles sweetly, pulling him down to kiss him despite his damp cheeks, "I love you as you are. I accept you as you are. You're perfect."

Harry blinks away his tears, letting her cup his jaw and bring him in for short but soft pecks over and over again.

"I know what pansexual is," YN says against his mouth before pulling back a little, "I don't know what demisexual is."

After Harry gets done explaining to her what his sexuality means to him, what he defines as being demi sexual - he's alarmed when he notices tears in YN's eyes now.

"I'm- Are you-" Harry begins to ask but she cuts him off.

"I'm your person?" YN repeats his words from earlier, she sounds like she’s a bit in disbelief that this is all happening.

"You’re my person," Harry agrees, kissing her forehead, nose, lips, cheeks, "I'm so in love with you. It's only ever been you. Only ever will be."

"I love you," YN gasps against his lips, bringing him in for another kiss but this time it's more heated with more purpose behind it as she pulls him down on top of her.

YN and Harry are equally frantic as they tug off each other's shirts, lips wandering over bare skin, and YN whines loudly when his lips wrap around her nipples and suck at them.

She's hurriedly pushing his shorts and briefs off his hips before allowing him to nearly rip her panties with the eagerness to have her bare.

As Harry's mouth teases at her breasts, switching between harden buds and nipping at them - her hands are twined tightly in his hair and holding him to her.

His cock is painfully hard, wet at the tip as he grinds it against her mound - the friction already good.

On one thrust, his length slips through her folds and his swollen head is pumping at her clit - making them both let out a surprised moan at the sensation.

"Need it," YN whines as he pumps his hips, the wet slide against her core was new to him but it felt like heaven, "Please, H."

And he knew what she was asking, he wanted to give it to her but he was scared that it wasn't going to be good.

"It's my first time," Harry mumbles embarrassedly, even though he had already admitted that to her, "I don't know how long I'll last,"

YN wriggles her hips, hissing in pleasure when his cock drags against her slit, teasing at pushing in before pulling away.

"It's okay, baby," She assures him, petting at his hair, "I just want you, please. I don't care how long you last, just want you. Want to make you mine."

Want to make you mine.

Holy fucking shit.

"Yeah," Harry rasps, voice deeper than ever, feeling a building up in confidence at how bad she wanted him right now.

He was so used to being the best at everything.

He was the best baseball player in the college leagues.

He was the best pitcher to ever attend Duke.

He was the first person to get an MLB draft pick before graduation.

He wasn't used to not being confident in hai abilities but he truly felt the love radiating from YN and knew that she just wanted him however she could get him.

Harry takes a deep breath, hand shaking as he grips himself, positioning at her entrance, and when he pushes in - he knows he moans loud enough that the whole house will be able to hear him.

"Shit, baby," Harry mewls as he drops his head down to take a deep breath before moving, "You feel so good. Fuckin' hell."

"H, move please," YN begs as she wraps her legs around his hips, "You're so big. Feels amazing, please honey."

Harry nods, one more deep breath before he's pulling out nearly to his tip before thrusting back in - the hot, velvet of her walls squeezing him and it was surely what euphoria felt like.

He can feel his orgasm already brimming over and it couldn't have been more than a minute or two - between the feeling around his cock, how pretty the noises she's making are, and the way her tits jiggle with every stroke - he can't last.

"M'sorry," Harry groans as his stomach starts to tense, "M'coming, you feel so good. You're gonna make me come."

With that, he's speeding up and pounding in harder than before - YN’s hand reaches down to rub expertly at her clit until she's clenching up around him and whimpering as her thighs shake.

Harry pulls out after a moment, ducking to grab his discarded tee shirt to clean them both up - he knows his cheeks are twinged pink with embarrassment.

"Hey," YN giggles, grabbing his attention and squishing his cheeks between her hands as she grips his chin, "Don't get all shy on me now."

"M'not being shy," Harry pouts as his words are muffled from his cheeks being smooshed, "I just look like a dickhead, I just came in a fuckin' minute."

YN rolls her eyes, fuck she's so pretty, her skin was literally glowing, "So what? Just means we get to practice more."

Harry chuckles, already feeling the tension ease form his chest, "For the rest of our lives. I only want this with you, ever. My body is yours."

"And I will always love it," YN murmurs more seriously, forehead pressed against his, "I love you for you. I accept you for you. You’re perfect and you're enough."

And after this, Harry never ever doubts that YN is the one for him - not in a few days or a decade when they're married and have four little babies running around that look just like him.

You are never alone.

There is always someone ready to listen, there is no struggle too little or too big.

The world needs you here.

Trans Crisis Line

LGBTQIA+ Crisis Talk, Chat, or Text

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billthedrake · 9 months

Text

THE VETERAN

(This is an idea I've been batting around for a while. Thanks to @maturedadsandmen for the inspiration to see it through.)

"This round's on me, Ackerman," Jim Bowers said, with a quick squeeze of my shoulder before he went to get us another round of beers. His blue eyes twinkled, and I could see the wrinkles and crows feet on his weathered, tanned face. Bowers held his liquor better than me, but he was definitely buzzed, too.

It had been a long week, but the summer MLB draft was now complete and a lot of the front office guys - and gals, too, but mostly guys - were out celebrating. Only now, some of the guys were heading off to dinner or going home. A few were in a corner trying to hit on some women at the bar. Which left me chatting with Bowers.

I don't know why Jim had decided to be buddy-buddy with me. Over the last month, the sarcastic putdown of calling me Moneyball had somehow turned into a friendly nickname, when he wasn't calling me by last name. But I leaned into it. The man was a former professional player and a legend in Royals history. He'd coached for a good decade once the boredom of retirement finally sunk in, but then the wave of analytics pushed him out the door. So now he was a special advisor to the GM and the face of the business side of the organization. Not exactly a mascot, but Jim brought in more when his gravitas and old-school knowledge of the game mattered. Which wasn't all the time, and Jim knew that.

I tried not to have the hard-drinking ways that a lot of guys in baseball do, but it was a good occasion to let loose. I was feeling good, and I'd probably get drunk by nighttime. Thank god for Uber.

It was well-earned, but the problem was my sexual thoughts were coming to me with less filter than usual. Jim was making those sexual thoughts come hard and fast. I didn't even go for older guys, at least not that much older, not older like Bowers. The man was in his late 60s, old enough to be my granddad. But there was something powerfully sexy about the man. 6'2" and still had a decently muscled build from his daily gym routine, even if yeah, Bowers was getting his granddaddy on, more by the month.

And, damnit, that day, he was going commando in his shorts. I didn't try to scope him out, I swear, but Jim Bowers had a huge package. Thick, heavy genitals that looked obscene in his khaki shorts. Maybe the man was a show-er and not a grower, but the part he was showing looked pretty damn oversized. I'd forever think of him as Big Jim now.

I wasn't some green virgin. I was 28, with one long term relationship under my belt. I'd gotten my PhD in Applied Math at Minnesota and a plum job with the Royals right off the bat. It was why I'd studied what I'd studied. It was my dream job, doing analytics for a major league baseball team. From my little league days and collecting baseball cards, through playing baseball at my prep school to too many hours spent at college playing fantasy teams... it all led up to this.

My boyfriend Tom wasn't eager to switch jobs and move, and I wasn't eager to do the long-distance thing. We talked it out and, a week before I packed up my belongings, we broke up.

Breakups suck, but the consolation prize was rediscovering the world of hookups in a new city. I'd developed a fondness for Midwestern guys, and as a somewhat nerdy Jewish dude from New England I had fun having a different blond hunk every other weekend. I even hooked up with some older guys. I preferred guys my age but responded to a guy's personality and a shared sexual vibe over looks. And sometimes a daddy fit the bill.... Different looks, different body types and different sexual energy. It was all great.

But for me, Daddy meant like 40. Jim Bowers was rearranging my self-identified age range. Or maybe it was the beer.

"Here ya go," he said as he sauntered back with two beers in hand. Goddamn, the veteran looked FINE. I mean, no one would mistake his body for a 40 year old's or even a 50 year olds. It was mature muscle, but fit. Platelike pecs beneath the man's team-logo polo shirt, and pumped arms stretching the tanned, almost leathery skin that was covered in gray hair, matching the thicker silvery fur on his legs.

And, damn, that package: I could make out the contours of Jim Bowers' junk. There had been rumors of his heyday with the groupies. For all I knew he still had 'em, though maybe not like the current players.

We clinked glasses and the man looked me in the eye and said, "Now that the draft is done, you gonna stop being a workaholic, Moneyball?" he teased. "Maybe you can finally get a goddamn boyfriend."

Everyone in the front office knew I was gay and that was never an issue, but I also didn't make it an issue. No talk about my private life, no mention of the gay thing unless it was brought up. I was the epitome of professional, and when it came to happy hour drinks, well, I'd learned straight-dude male bonding as a way of blending in years ago.

"Come on, Jim," I said. And he knew exactly why.

"I know you got your work self and keep the rest private, buddy..." he said. "But, man, you're not as different as you think sometimes."

I don't know that I resented his words, but they rubbed me the wrong way. How was Bowers to know what I dealt with? Maybe if I hadn't been perving on the guy, I would have been more bothered.

"How so?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Take Campbell," he said, referring to Mitch Campbell, who was one of the scouts. "Good looking guy. Goes on dates all the time, but can't think of a goddamn thing to talk about to girls except baseball." Jim gave a smirk. "Girl doesn't call back, and Campbell's back to Square One."

At another moment, Bowers talk would be too old-school I-told-you-so in its condescension. Now, I was amused as hell. "You got Mitch all figured out, huh?" I teased.

Jim's blue eyes lit up some. "Tell me I'm wrong, Moneyball."

I smiled. "You're probably right," I conceded. Then, feeling my guard let down, I added, "You know, with gay guys, they like the idea of a baseball dude, but it's more the fantasy than the reality, you know?" I blushed as I spoke, but something about the drunken happy hour moment was removing my filter. "Maybe if I were a player, they'd be into the jock thing."

Bowers laughed and gave a smirk. He'd been the recipient of jock worship, even if it was from women. "You're just like Campbell, Moneyball... deep down." He patted my back. "But you're a good looking dude, and a good kid... any man would be lucky to land ya, buddy."

I ate up the words but had to reply, "Not the pep talking I was expecting tonight, Jim."

He reflected a second. "Yeah, I guess I dish out the advice easier than I can take it." Bowers had married three times and was now divorced and, as far as I knew, single.

Our conversation shifted subjects, but we got caught up in talking. I ate up his stories from his pro days, and Jim asked me about the math stuff I did. Maybe the man was right, I wasn't good at talking about much other than baseball, but he was a lifer and his whole life was the game, too.

I emptied my pint glass and had to do a mental calculation if I was gonna have another. I was on the fence. I should go home, but if Jim was having another, I knew I would too.

Instead he gave me a questioning look. "Feel like coming back to my place, Ackerman?" he asked. "We can have another one there."

The last part felt like it was added on to save face. In case I wasn't on the same wavelength. Maybe I'd been dumb in not reading the signals. Maybe I was misreading them now. But that was my first inkling that Jim Bowers was making a pass at me.

I blushed as I replied. "Sounds good, Jim," I said. "But neither one of us is driving."

"Yeah," he admitted. He was buzzed all right. He patted my shoulder. Kind of paternal but with a definite look of sexual interest in his gaze. Damn, this was not what I'd been expecting. He broke that look as he pulled out his phone to get an uber.

The guys had all gone by then and we stepped outside to wait for the car, it was getting dark out. We'd been in there a while.

"Damn, I'm starving," Jim said. "Maybe I can order us a pizza."

"Sure," I said. Hands in my pockets out of nervousness more than anything. This was probably a really bad idea, but I felt crazy attracted to Bowers, more than I'd let myself admit before tonight. This was playing out so different than a gay hookup, so I was feeling out the dynamic. But his touch between my shoulder blades as he guided me first toward the car... that touch alone was enough to make me chub.

Jim's place was big, too big for a bachelor. But it felt surprisingly homey.

"Let me get us some waters," he said. I wasn't overly drunk but he was right, it was good to drink something besides beer.

I chugged down a few sips from the plastic bottle and looked at Jim. "Nice place," I said.

"Thanks," Bowers said. Then with a soft voice, he added, "Damn, you're really fucking cute, Dave." He set down his bottle and stepped up to me.

I hadn't expected Bowers to be into dudes, at all, and I definitely didn't expect him to kiss. But he had no hesitation pulling me into a soft, wet kiss. It was a little drunken, but it was the surprise sexual attraction that made my head light. Fit as he may be, Jim was a mature guy, and I knew I was kissing a 60-something man, a man nearing 70. It was a strange thrill.

"You're into this, right?" the man hissed as he pulled back, giving me an up close view of his handsome features: roman nose, round cheeks, and gray hair growing more silver by the year, cut in a medium-short style. His hairline receded just a little but remarkably he still had a full head of hair. "I'm not looking for any HR issues," he chuckled.

"Oh I'm into it," I answered. "I guess it's just between us, right?" I was asking for his assurance as much as I was giving him mine.

"Absolutely," he said. His eyes were on me but his arm was reaching down. In my peripheral vision I could tell he was unzipping. And pulling out his dick. His grin cocked. "I'm really horny, man," he said.

I looked down. There it was, that pro-veteran baller cock. Heavy was an understatement. Jim Bowers packed a very thick, powerful 8 inch tool that jutted out of his open crotch. It was big and spongy and rock hard all at once. I wondered if he took a pill for his erections. I didn't fucking care. Bowers had an amazing cock.

I gave him one last look, a playful, sexy look, then crouched in front of him. I reached out and touched that meat, holding it. It had a soft give to the erection, but also twitched in my hand. It was my first mature cock, and I decided I liked it. Jim was hot to the touch as I angled his erection down to my lips.

"Oh yeah, buddy..." he hissed. "Lick my cock... like that."

The more I ran my tongue up and down his shaft, the bigger and heavier it felt. He tasted salty but then as I bathed his dick the flavor was cleaner. I finally figured I'd given enough foreplay and pulled that dong between my open lips.

He had enough girth to challenge me. I liked sucking dick, but I wasn't an expert at it. I guess lately I'd gotten more into anal and more into topping in my hookups. Even if I still went down on a guy, as foreplay or the main event, Bowers was bigger than I'd encountered.

But it was like riding a bike, I suppose. My initial difficulties gave way to a steady bobbing on his fat rod, feeling a good four or five inches push the confines of my throat with each motion of my mouth. It was a surprisingly pleasant feeling.

Nothing compared to the pleasure Jim was feeling. "Oh God... hell yes... work my fucking cock, man.... like that, yeah.... "

As I bobbed up and down I could see the silvery hair in his crotch, just a few darker hairs among them. And my hands felt up his mature legs, still strong, and now very furry. I was sucking a 68, maybe 69 year old and I realized I fuckin' loved this.

I always figured old guys took a long time to cum. Jim wasn't a quick cummer, but after about three minutes of giving him head I sensed the telltale signs. The urgency in his voice, the quiver in his quad muscle.

"FUCK! Here comes my fucking load, bud," he announced.

That heavy fat mature dong jerked in my throat as Bowers fed me his seed. I did my best to keep working him through that ejaculation, accentuating his orgasm with my mouth and suction.

He finally pushed my off with a friendly laugh. "Easy there, man... I think you got it all."

I looked up, knowing I felt proud. More than I'd been with my hookups. If I was honest, happier in sex than I'd been with my ex Tom. "Fuck, that was hot," I hissed.

Jim nodded. Face flushed red, his gray hair looked whiter. He somehow looked younger and older at the same time.

"Give me a second and I'll take care of you," he announced.

Not what I was expecting but I wasn't going to turn down the offer. I stood up, feeling drunk and light headed from the BJ. I started undoing my shorts and pulling them and my briefs off.

Jim grinned and reached down to grip my boner. "You 27 year olds are always rock hard," he teased, pulling my dick down to let it thwap up at the release.

"28," I corrected. "And how many have there been?" I laughed.

"Enough," he grinned. He gave my meat another look then said, "All right." And like that, the former baseball star, a man whose card I'd collected as a kid, was now getting down to suck me off.

If it hadn't been for the alcohol, I would have blasted in 20 seconds. Instead, now, I enjoyed getting head from Bowers. The slow suckling, the gentle bobs, the vision of his mature muscled bod in front of me. I ran my hands through his silvery hair.

Grandaddy was gonna work for my load, all right, and that idea was enough to get me to cum.

"Jim!" I gasped, surprised at how quickly orgasm snuck up on me and wanting to warn him.

He was a trooper, readying himself or my cum and then steadily sucking it down as I shot good and heavy into his mouth.

"Like I say," he teased when he finally pulled off. "You fucking need a boyfriend, Moneyball." He gave my leg a gentle pat then stood up. Reaching over he picked up his water bottle. To rehydrate or to wash down the flavor of cum, I wasn't sure.

Sheepishly, I pulled my underwear and shorts back on. Crossing some boundaries with Bowers had been naughty fun and all, but this part felt awkward. I started imagining what life was going to be like in the clubhouse from now on.

But Bowers stood in front of me, unabashed being naked from the waist down. His pJim hung fat and heavy, past his low-hanger balls covered in silver hair. He was definitely a show-er, even if his hard on had measured big.

"The offer for pizza still stands, Ackerman," he said, his blue eyes now normal friendly rather than lusty in their gaze. "If you wanna stay."

"You sure?" I asked.

Jim shrugged. "I'm not gonna be offended if you dash off," he said. "I've done it plenty, you know."

"It's not that," I started to say. Then, "Well, maybe it is.... but if you're OK, I could definitely eat."

That made Jim chuckle. "All right. You a peperoni man?"

****

The drunkenness was wearing off as we scarfed down the pizza. As I worked on the last slice, Jim came in with a freshly opened beer can for me, and one for him.

"I promised you a drink," he said.

"I figured that was just a pick up line," I replied. Something about sex made me feel I could be familiar with the man.

"Oh, it absolutely was," he said. "I'm not the most original guy in my lines."

I looked at his body. Relaxed on the couch. I calculated how his current body compared to a couple decades ago. I liked what Bowers had going on now, the contrast of hard and soft, muscled and aging. "You don't need killer lines when you have a killer bod," I said, flirting some.

Jim laughed but seemed into what I was saying. "You think I have a killer bod, Moneyball?"

I nodded. "Definitely." I looked at him openly. I wasn't gonna bone for round too but I was still feeling sexual. "That bug you?"

"Not at all," he said. He took a sip of beer and seemed to be looking me over, too. "You into older guys?"

"Not really," I answered. "At least not before you." I blushed as I admitted that. "Let's just say you're expanding my horizons, Jim."

He seemed to take that in. "You know, I haven't seen all your goods, Ackerman... feel like showing off a little for me?"

"You wanna see my body?" I confirmed.

"Yeah, I wanna see your fucking body," he said, leaning back into the couch cushion and spreading his legs.

I set down my beer and stood up. I peeled off my T-shirt, then undid my shorts. I spent a lot of time in the gym and had a pretty good body. By most standards it would be considered a great body, but being around professional players, I seemed more ordinary in comparison.

"Nice," Jim said. Genuinely into what I had going on. "Not just a pretty face, huh?"

I blushed. "I try, Jim."

"You do more than try... turn around," he instructed. He took in the view of my backside and my ass, before I turned back to face hi.

"Sorry, I'm getting a little chubbed." My dick was rising up and fast.

"That's hot," he said. With a concerted look he peeled off his polo shirt. I practically gasped when I saw that white-furred muscle. It was magnificent and everything I imagined Jim Bowers would be bare chested. Still had a lot of that ball-player power to him.

"Wow," I gasped. My dick was standing full up at the sight. "OK... I definitely have a thing for older men," I said. Then, "I hope you don't mind my saying that, Jim."

He gave a soft smile. "I don't mind, Dave." He leaned back and showed off his upper body some, inviting my gaze before he reached down to undo his shorts once more. They slipped off easily. I noticed that his legs were strong and sinewed but he had more muscle loss there than his upper bod.

His prick was fully and semi-firm but not throwing hard. "Think I can feel up some of that 28-year-old muscle?" he asked. Scooting down, he lay on the couch, face up and bared in his magnificent nakedness.

I took the invitation and went back to the couch to lie on top of this former star. I still had to pinch myself this was happening. The sex, but the whole evening. We both groaned as I made body contact, my hands on his chest and his on mine, while our cocks touched.

"So, Jim..." I started. "I don't wanna kill the vibe, but what's your deal?"

His hand traveled along my upper chest and over my arms. "I guess I reached a certain age and decided to stop having hang ups. Sex with guys is just easier these days."

"Yeah?" I asked.

He nodded. "A young guy... you can fool around with and he doesn't expect anything, you know?" I could feel his dick move against mine and instinctively I knew our heartbeats were synching up. "I'm not gonna lead you on, Ackerman.... not looking to date or anything, you know?"

"No offense, Jim," I said. "But I probably should stick to guys closer my own age to date."

"Probably, yeah," he laughed. His hands were now openly feeling up my back muscle as I lay on top of him. He was taller than me by two inches and had some more weight to him. It felt comforting and relaxed being naked in this position. Sexual but not we-gotta-fuck-now sexual. "If you ever feel like having fun with an old man, though..." he started.

"I definitely do," I answered. "I didn't think I'd be into this, actually," I blushed.

"Be into what?" he asked.

"The age gap," I said.

He got an impish look on his face. "You into the Granddaddies, huh?"

Fuck, I hissed. It was such a naughty thing, but it made my dick jerk, which made Jim laugh.

He patted my bare ass. "Listen, bud. I'm 69. I'm not gonna be able to get it on twice in one night. But if you feel like staying over..."

"Yeah, I'd like that," I said.

He kissed, softly. And soon we were making out. Feeling each other up. I could have gone for a round two for sure, but I didn't need to. And that made this all the better, just connecting nude body to nude body with Jim's mature veteran-baller build.

By the time we got up off the couch, I was dripping precum heavily on that swirl of silvery hair on Jim's stomach. I was rock hard as I helped him up and helped him tidy up everything and take plates and cans back to the kitchen. Eventually my erection flagged but Jim didn't make a move to put clothes back on, so I didn't either.

I was starting to second guess myself. This was a man I'd see around work. Maybe this was gonna get complicated, real fast, even if we weren't looking for anything serious.

He had a spare toothbrush for me and set out some towels if I wanted to use them. I looked in myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed. I often went back and forth in my self esteem, feeling cocky about my looks, then feeling all sorts of self doubt about my body and how I compared to whatever perfect guy I imagined or lusted after. But I saw myself in Jim's eyes. Maybe he went for me because I was an out gay guy, maybe an easy target. Maybe he liked that I had that nerdy but fit thing going on. Whatever it was, I was glad I'd spent the last couple of years hitting the weights and eating well.

He was already under the covers when I joined him in the king sized bed.

"Thanks for a fun evening, Ackerman," he said, his voice now sleepy. It was later than I realized.

"God, Jim, it's been wild."

"I don't normally have guys sleep over," he said. Maybe wanting me not to get any ideas.

"I don't always sleep over when they ask," I said.

He smirked. "All right, bud... ready for some sleep?"

"Yeah," I said.

And I watched his thick muscle bunch as he leaned over to turn off the light.

"Hey buddy," Jim Bowers said as he ushered me inside. I didn't always come over to his place. Sometimes the legendary veteran would swing by my condo for some no-strings fun before work, or after playing golf. I'd enjoying giving him a nice BJ - it was kind of my big challenge and thrill, getting used the girth and length of Big Jim's meat and getting off on our age gap. The latter was just as thrilling when Jim would have me kick back for his turn at reciprocating.

We even snuck in a BJ in a parking lot once, but while the risk felt fun, it was, well, risky.

I'd worried this would mess up things at work. Bowers wasn't my boss, but he held a senior position in the front office org chart, an advisor to my big boss. Yet the man was completely normal after our first hook up. It relaxed me for when he hit me up for a second time. Then another.

Sometimes it felt like a booty call, sometimes we grabbed a bite and a beer after sex. It was all good.

But today was different. Big Jim said he wanted to fuck me.

He was looking incredible now, shirtless and showing off that mature muscle, dusted with silver hair.

"Hey Jim," I said, stepping in. We met for a quick kiss, which became not a quick one. I could tell the ex-pro was really worked up today, and despite my nervousness, I was, too. We laughed a little at how horny we were when I finally broke the connection and stepped back.

"You look amazing," I said.

He flexed a little. Best of all, I could see that heavy dick in his mesh shorts. Not hanging either but boned up into a hard ridge. The man was in heat.

"How much you work out?" I asked. It had been on my mind for a while. For a man his age, Bowers was very well preserved.

Big Jim didn't miss a beat. "A hell of a lot, Moneyball," he said with a smirk. He cocked his head back toward his bedroom. "Feel like getting down to it? Or you want a drink or something?"

My heart fluttered a little bit. "I'm horny as fuck," I replied. "But I won't lie: I'm a little scared."

"Scared? Why?" Jim asked. I realized he was sincere in his question. Like it hadn't occurred to him.

"For starters, I don't bottom much," I said, then nodded down to his crotch. "And then there's that beast you got between your legs."

That made Bowers smile. I probably wasn't the first to compliment his endowment and wouldn't be the last. But the ego boost was appreciated. "You seem to like it."

"Hell yeah I like," I said. "I love it," I added in admission. "But that's a lot of dick to take."

He chuckled, stepping up to me, and running his fingers along my cheek. "You're overthinking it, Ackerman. Let's just enjoy this."

Easy for him to say, I thought. But something about him was charming me. The weathered face, the sea blue eyes, the craggly voice. I was gonna go with it. "All right, lead the way," I hissed.

I peeled off my T-shirt and shorts as I stepped into his bedroom. I'd learned to go commando for these hookups and as I freed my meat, my dick firmed up quickly as Jim pulled down the sheets and then slid down his shorts.

I saw one reason for that massive hardon. Bowers had a cock ring on, which made that dick firmer than normal. He saw where I was looking. "Hope you don't mind the ring, bud. Just gives a little more insurance at my age."

I crawled on the bed and showed how little I minded it. Scooting forward, I let Big Jim guide that hard meat to my mouth.

"Yes...." he grunted as I sucked in a few inches, then choked down another. I was getting better at this. My face blushed as I sucked, my bare ass up for Jim's gaze. I wasn't used for being so bottomy, so open in servicing with a guy, but it was a fun new mode. Particularly as I smelled Bowers' clean soapy scent and could see the silvery crotch hair in front of me.

He put his hands on his hips and let me do the work. The man loved a BJ. I mean, who doesn't? But Jim seemed to really crave oral sex. I half thought he'd change his mind today and let me get him off with my mouth. I'd cleaned myself out and prepped for anal, but a part of me wouldn't have been upset with a change of plans.

But I felt his hand on my head, nudging me back.

"Lie back," he urged.

I scrambled back, letting Big Jim see my naked body. The man got off on my youth, on the fact he had a 20-something stud in his bed. He'd told me as much, but his eyes confirmed it now as he stood next to the bed and pumped some lube into his hand, fisting that rock hard granddaddy meat.

"I hope to god you don't think you're just gonna ram that thing up me," I said in a nervous joking tone.

He grinned and shook his head. "Relax, Ackerman, I know what I'm doing." He got on the bed, his core contracting as he shifted his weight forward. Our lips met for a second and I took a moment to feel up that mature brawn. It was still a head fuck that I was having sex with THE Jim Bowers. Even if he wasn't quite my main childhood idle or on my favorite team growing up, I used to watch watch him play all the time, and it felt like I was in the presence of a legend.

He leaned up and I took in that view of Bowers's strong shoulder muscle and thick arms. He gave a couple of soft kisses along my abs as he scooted down. "Lift 'em up, buddy," he urged.

I was nervous but I wanted this, I decided. It had been a solid year since I'd bottomed, but I was getting in the mood now. As I pulled back my legs, Big Jim was gonna get me all the way there. He leaned in and I felt his breath and his five o clock stubble before his tongue darted out to lick me.

Here was a man of surprises, all right. Jim Bowers was really into eating ass. It tickled at first, and I fought to keep the tickling sensation from overwhelming me. It was just my body's defensiveness. It was half mental, but also the unfamiliarity of having my ass stimulated. But Jim's tongue pressed deeper in, and the feeling changed. Rawer, more overtly sexual.

"God," I grunted. It was a mind fuck, too, looking down at this older man, almost 70, going to town on my hole. And me letting him.

He took his time but I could tell he was horny now. After a minute or so he leaned up and let out a soft growl of approval. "Hot hole, Dave," he said, timing the pressing of his first finger perfectly. It was lubed, and I enjoyed the thickness of his digit entering me. He dug around some, worming my sphincter open more before diving in for another rim job.

"You got nice and clean for me, buddy," he said with approval.

"Yeah," I replied, holding my legs back and letting him prepare me. Alternating rimming with more fingering. Pretty soon he was focused on the latter, two then three then two then three fingers, drizzling more lube at the connecting spot.

He looked down at me, horny. Maybe that cock was viagra-ed up or maybe the cock ring was doing all the work. But it was steel rigid.

He pulled his hand back and lined up that heavy, hard meat. "You got this, man..." was all he said, before I felt that dull stinging of his penetration.

"Fuck!" I cried. Not in pain but more in fear.

He held steady, an inch of that fat dick wedged in my ring. "You're tight as hell," he observed. "Just relax, Ackerman."

"I'm trying!" I laughed.

Jim smiled. God he was so handsome and sexy. I didn't think I'd ever be into a guy pushing 70, but at that moment I knew I really was. He pulled back and fisted that big meat. I felt bad I was extra work to get in. But he leaned in and kissed me some. Sensual, tongue-heavy kissing while his fingers went back down to work my hole again.

I was ready this time. He broke the kiss but didn't pull back entirely. Deftly he placed that dong at my hole and applied just the right amount of force. And like that I had three solid inches of Jim Bowers' fatness in me.

I clenched my teeth and gripped his biceps in automatic response.

His eyes challenged mine. "You got this," he assured me. More confident than I was. More pressure was pushing that very wet, very lubed phallus into me. I was tight but also enjoying that stretching feeling. Maybe because Big Jim was going slow.

He nodded at me, his face now serious, not very sexual and horny. "You feel SO fucking good on my dick buddy," he growled in a low voice. That gravely Bowers voice. "You gonna make your Granddad feel good?"

We'd tossed back the granddaddy term. For me it was an extension of "daddy" - a daddy with a few extra years. Mature like Jim. But now that term hit me in a pervy place. My bowels unclenched and welcomed all of that magnificent cock into me.

"Yeah you are," Big Jim hissed.

"God, Granddad..." I moaned, hesitant at first, trying it out.

"I got ya, boy," he said, more aloud as he began his first thrust. Not hard, but a real fuck thrust into me. With Jim's size, it felt like a lot and was rapidly rearranging my previous assumptions - of being mostly top, of not being into grandpas.

His hips swiveled slowly as I held his muscular body and welcomed him into me. I felt like we weren't just having sex. We were mating. I was being owned from the inside out. I didn't normally feel whorish with a guy, but Big Jim was pushing some button deep inside me. Physically and psychologically.

"Fuck me, Jim!" I said, more assertively now. "Fuck me, Granddad."

His lips curled up and he threw more force into his thrusts. I was ready for it now. Unbelievably I was enjoying this. It was intense as hell, like it could become uncomfortable at any moment, but my ass felt alive, and I felt alive beneath this man, who was fucking for his pleasure. The lube on his cock kept my guts from clenching down too hard on his pistoning shaft, or when I did they didn't have anything to grip onto. The man was fucking me unimpeded.

I looked into his wrinkled, weathered, handsome face. Imagining how many groupies he'd nailed over the years. How easy it must have been for him to get laid in his prime. How easy it was for him now.

I didn't think a hands-free cum was a possibility for me. Maybe technically it wasn't since Big Jim's soft belly fur and belly were rubbing against my rigid cock. But I started cumming hard.

"Jim!" I exclaimed, feeling that immense pleasure rising up from deep within me.

That excited him all right. He fucked me and fucked me hard. Fast even, eager to maximize the sensations on his mature cock. "Right behind ya, kid," he grunted.

The idea he was gonna nut in me thrilled me and made another shot of cum push out of my cock.

I love watching men cum and seeing Big Jim in full orgasm was incredible. His older muscle tensing up and his voice sounding older as he cried out. Then him relaxing in tired stillness on top of me for a second before he moved his head to give me a soft kiss and pushed up to relieve the brunt of his bulk on top of me.

I felt that thickness retreat and plop out of me. I felt slutty and maybe not in a good way as Big Jim's cum ran out of my used hole. But in every other way I felt happy and satisfied. Especially seing the smile on the man's face as he rolled off and lay next to me, nudging my chin playfully.

"You were a trooper, Moneyball," he said finally.

"I don't know if I should have enjoyed that so much," I admitted.

"Why the hell not?" Big Jim challenged me.

"Long answer or short answer?" I replied.

"Let's start with the short."

"Maybe I'm a little kinkier than I realized."

Jim shrugged and leaned up, sitting back against one of the pillows. "Nothing wrong with that, fella."

I copied his move, but not before shaking out the cramps from my legs. My ass hole felt loose and wet but the new sitting position made it less exposed. "So the Granddad thing..." I didn't even know what I wanted to ask, but I knew I had to check in with Jim.

He chuckled. "Seems to get you going, buddy. It's a little weird, I guess," he added. "I mean, I have grandkids and all. But I figure this is something different altogether."

"It is," I assured him. I looked down at my body. Dick well sated, cum smeared on my belly and chest. "I'm a fricking mess."

Jim agreed. "Let's get you cleaned up, Moneyball." He slid out of bed and extended his hand to help me up. At that moment, despite being much younger I felt weaker from the sexual exhaustion. "If you have evening plans, that's cool, but I feel like I owe you a nice dinner for putting out like that."

I enjoyed this camaraderie and enjoyed the shower we shared together. A chance to soap up his mature body. A part of me worried if I should be seen in public extensively with Bowers, alone with him, but we did work together and I'm sure could come up with a reason if anyone saw us.

Then as Jim soaped me up from behind and pulled me into his sudsy wet body, that fat dong there, the one that had given me what felt like a second deflowering... I realized Big Jim was right. I was overthinking it.

#drakestories

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