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omgeto · 8 months

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☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.

summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.

wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)

cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.

an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls

☆ NANAMI

nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.

but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.

“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.

as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.

"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.

“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.”

you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day.

he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass.

“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.

“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg.

“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”

suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.

you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”

“really?” you question coyly.

“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”

“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.

“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”

“wha—”

“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”

you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you.

nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy, “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.

you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.

“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt. “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”

“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”

“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”

“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.

“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”

“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”

“wha—”

“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”

“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out

“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.

“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.

“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”

“thanks for the live show.”

☆ TOJI

“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.

“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further.

you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.

“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.

“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”

you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”

“am too,” he mutters like a child.

“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.

“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.

“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”

he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.

his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you.

he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy.

“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.

“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”

“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.

“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”

“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”

“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.

“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.

“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”

“ugh you’re so gross.”

“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.

“if you insist.”

he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”

“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.

☆ GETO

you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching.

“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it.

“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”

“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.

“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”

he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?”

"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."

“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”

“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?”

he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”

“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.

“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?”

your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto.

you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”

“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear.

he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun — down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.

his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace.

geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.

but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.

“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.

“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.

“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”

“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.

“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.

“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.

“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.

“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.

“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.

“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”

“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.

☆ GOJO

“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”

“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”

you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy.

it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever.

you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’

“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.

“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”

“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”

“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”

“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.

for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him.

“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it.

“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.

“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.

“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.

after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”

“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”

“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”

an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fic #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader

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nataliesscatorccio · 11 months

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coach ben has the energy of a brother who got stuck babysitting his younger sister's sleepover and it was going fine until the sun went down now he has twelve gremlins running up the walls hissing. someone broke into dad's knife display. there are bras in the freezer. half the group is huddled in a circle chanting in tongues trying to levitate a girl, the other half are mixing ketchup and toilet water and forcing each other to drink it. he keeps finding one of them sniffing his pillow. how does she keep getting back in he locked the door? there are two mean lesbians in the corner whispering.

#yellowjackets #ben scott

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trulyhblue · 21 days

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INAPPROPRIATE

leah williamson x arsenal! reader

warnings — tiny angst, annoyed! Leah, Emma Hayes, Chelsea, sorta fluff, coarse language, mention of injury scare.

A/N — in light of Lee’s birthday!!!! short one today, sorry! Thought I would add some spice to this. Emma Hayes needs to realize that pretty much all of woso have dated each other, including her own players lol. there is a mention of Bug, which is a character in one of my stories. Just for context, that is Caitlin Foord’s daughter.

___________________

After hearing Emma Hayes yap on about her opinion on footballers' relationships, you found yourself subjected to a pretty pissed-off Leah Williamson.

Today was the London derby, a long-awaited revenge for Chelsea, it seemed, as the Arsenal bus arrived outside the stadium. Seas of blue and red treaded the stands — you caught sight of a couple of jerseys with your number plastered on the back. Leah was holding your waist as you wandered through the mob of fans reaching for autographs and pictures, a cold facade planted across her face.

Leah was always solemn before games. She was a serious contender, North London bred, with a serious competitive nature that no one could break down.

When you moved to Arsenal from your childhood club, you instantly caught onto Leah’s prominent soberness. Every player knew that if they didn't show up for a game and give it their all, their position would falter. It wasn't like any player with a job as a professional ever thought to underperform, but Leah was an exemption from sincerity. You couldn't joke with her the same way you could during team bonding. You would be stupid to slack off during training or talk to an exaggerated extent when Leah was running beside you. The Lioness Captain copped none of it, and there was no exception for you, her girlfriend.

The woman had woken up with an eminent frown playing on her lips. This was arguably the most important game of the WSL season, and with Leah starting after a long time away, there was a newfound angst set in your shared apartment.

Not only that — the stress Leah had put on herself to perform exceptionally — but the media spotlight Chelsea’s Emma Hayes has put on herself after a certain interview regarding coach-player, and player-player relationships.

From your viewpoint, it didn't really affect you. Everyone had their own opinions based on who dated whom. There was no stopping someone for sharing what they thought, so you simply shook it off as soon as you watched the clip. You did feel bad for the select few of the Blue’s team that were dating players. To not have the personal backing of your coach wouldn't be the most relieving sensation. You knew that the fans were in upheaval regarding her comments, but to be honest, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

But, it seemed that Leah did not share the same insight as you.

“She can't just go ‘round saying that.” She barked, hiding the Emirates logo as she crossed her arms in disapproval. “It's barmy, that's what it is.”

You were side by side in the change rooms. Leah was already in her kit, the Chelsea socks sticking out like a sore thumb. You were tugging up your shorts, your shirt yet to cover your sports bra. You sighed, having been hearing Leah go on for the best part of the morning.

“You shouldn't let it worry you, Lee.” You muttered, sorting through your bag, ignoring your girlfriend’s huff. “I don't think she meant any harm—”

“Well she did, didn't she?” She retorted.

You pulled your jersey off the hanger, slipping it on. “Leah, c’mon.”

“Why does she feel the need to talk about us, huh? She should be more worried about the amount of injuries on her team, not about what they do in their free time.”

“Leah, that's enough.” You snapped, your hands planted firmly on your hips. The blonde in front of you looked subtly started by your sudden change of demeanour. “Don't worry about it. It's not worth your time.”

You were currently faced with the nerves of the game, on top of other things like international duties, and the Olympics. To have Leah in this mood, in such a critical time like this, was not only overwhelming but downright anxiety-inducing.

Leah didn't answer you. Instead, she tied her laces and crossed the room, exiting into the tunnel for kick-off. This gave you a few minutes to breathe, to centre yourself. You weren't starting, but your nerves were rising by the time you took your seat next to Alessia.

As soon as the game started, it was clear that Chelsea had it covered. Alessia joked that it was the socks, but you could see by the look on Lee’s face that she was fuming from something other than the odd black that covered her shin pads. You warmed up along the sideline, carrying Caitlin’s bug by your side when you saw her growing restless near Frida.

Unlike the rest of your teammates, you bit their nails at the painful game in front of them, you tried to hone your focus on keeping Bug’s hood down, making her giggle instead of wince at the tackles Caitlin was receiving.

You had been benched for the past few games, your hamstring giving you grief over training. But you were anticipating Jonas to call you over. You waited for the flick of his hand, wanting to make things right on the pitch.

The second-half whistle couldn't have come slower. The starting eleven were frustrated, angry, and quiet when entering the changing rooms, an eerie aura lingering inside. You held onto Bug all the way until Caitlin took over, trudging over to Viv, who happily took the girl up to the stands to watch. Jonas had told you and Emily that you’d be put on, so you were preparing yourself for what was to come.

You tried not to interact with Leah. It was an unspoken rule that unless it was personal, it was not to be said directly, especially when you were losing. But the blonde was leaning nearer to you the closer you were meant to be out on the pitch once more. She made the effort to tug at the hem of your shorts, and hold both your shoulders as she stood behind you, listening to the plan for the rest of the game. You pushed your back into her chest, letting her hug you from behind. She squeezed affectionately, and you noticed the subtle unravelling of her tense shoulders. Her features smoothed when she found out you were replacing Victoria in the midfield, and she made sure to hold your hand as you walked back into the stadium.

“You're doing great, Lee.” You managed to say, hoping that your substitution would be before the sixtieth minute. “Just be careful near the wing. It's very congested and you should wait for the midfield to sort it, alright?”

Leah cared deeply about her career and strived for greatness in all that she did. There was nothing that she couldn't achieve without perfection in her eyes. Many people said that you would bring her down to Earth, and remind her that mistakes are human. But there was only so much you could do, and you found that simply telling the girl that she was making the right decisions, treating her softly, was a tactic no game plan could ever beat.

You were about to find your way down the sidelines, getting ready to finish your warm-up before you were subbed on. Both teams had started filing out of their respected halftime seminars, Chelsea looking as confident as ever. Arsenal were sauntering out with much determination, the spite and inherent desire for justice spewing from the gunner’s crowd. Leah and you were near the entrance of the tunnel, standing on the edge of the field in what seemed like your own personal bubble.

Jonas had taken a seat near the rest of the officials, but Chelsea’s Emma Hayes was standing not far from where the two of you stood, skimming her surroundings vaguely without giving too much away. You could feel the irritation radiating off Leah as soon as the woman was in your sight. You both knew the coach was trying to look at you, without it being bitterly obvious, but it seemed to make the tension rise all the more. Your girlfriend found solace in kissing your forehead, running her hands down your sides painstakingly slow. You felt your cheeks go red, the blush filming over your face when Hayes’ eyes darted away.

“Leah.” You warned her wandering hands, squirming in the taller girl’s potent grip around your hips.

You pulled taunt against her, sighing when she loosened. She ignored your scolding look. A smirk was aligned on her lips, threatening to spill the cocky remarks relieving her lips. You watched her run over to the rest of the team, a meek smile matching hers.

God, you couldn't wait to go home.

_________________

A/N — again, sorry it's really short but I wanted to put something out xxxxxx

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pixiesfz · 1 month

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such a tease k.c

plot: you make a comment in an interview and Kerstin makes you pay for it

warnings: suggestive, fluff

You were sat down in the press room with Sarina on your left, you were repping some of the England Lionesses merch and your hair was brushed and out, smiling out of nerves that you were chosen to take the interview.

The interview was for your opinions and predictions for the England vs Netherlands match for the Olympic qualifiers.

Your feet were jumping up and down under the table and your fingers were playing together behind the microphone.

"You ready y/n?" one of the interviewers asked and you nodded.

The interview eased in as you tried to joke around with most questions, even making a joke about Leah's coaching comments as Sarina laughed saying that she was coming for her job.

"Are you okay for a personal question?" a young interviewer raised her hand with paper in her hand.

You knew immediately where this was going as she nervously raised her hand. You were versing Netherlands.

You were versing Kerstin.

You and Kerstin had recently announced your relationship online with a picture of you two together at a winning celebration for Manchester City. This was the first game as girlfriends that you would be versing each other.

But your mood was up so you nodded your head "it's okay" you said and the girl smiled.

"Are you scared of playing your teammate Kerstin Casperij?"

You covered your ear with your hand "who?" you smirked and the room was filled with chuckles.

You let the laughter down before finishing off the question.

You groaned as you opened the door to your and Kerstin's shared apartment to hear the stove on and happily sniff the yummy smell that came from it.

"Sorry I'm late I was chosen for an interview for the game" you sighed and turned into the kitchen to only see such a sight.

Kristen was in her pajama shorts (your old Melbourne City shorts) and just a sports bra. She wasn't wearing a t-shirt, giving you access to roam your eyes on her abs.

"babe" you deadpanned and the Dutch smiled and hummed.

"How was the interview?" she asked, quickly turning to you with a soft smirk before going back to her pot "Alright, just made some jokes" you sighed and grabbed two plates as you could see your girlfriend almost finished.

"Jokes huh?" Kerstin questioned and you nodded "yeah it was the only way I could get through it though"

Looking for the salt and pepper you were lost "Kerstin?" you called out

"Who?"

Your head shot up momentarily before looking to your girlfriend who had a full smirk on her face as she held the pasta pot and was pouring them into both your bowls.

"So you watched it?" you frowned and she nodded "very funny joke, all though you don't usually forget my name, especially in the bed-"

"I panicked!"

Kirsten just smiled smugly and took off her oven mitts and wiped her hands off on her stomach which you kept on stealing glances at.

You came to a conclusion after her action, she was getting back at you.

"Kerstin put a top on," you told her and she shook her head "I thought you liked my abbs?" she asked as if she didn't know you had picked up on her plot.

"I do" you sang out "but we are eating and it's a tease" you told her "but I'm cold" she shrugged and you rolled your eyes

"We live in Manchester Kerstin there is no way you could be cold" you crossed your arms and the Dutch's girl smile grew.

"Sorry, who's Kerstin again?" she asked, her hand covering her ear, similar to how you did at the interview.

You stepped forward, closer to your girlfriend "Kerstin we have to eat dinner" you told her softly, reaching your hands out to the sides of her waist to pull her closer.

"pretty please" you added with a sickly sweet smile.

But Kerstin seemed to be liking her teasing too much "I'm not quite sure who this person you speak of is?" she cocked her head and you groaned out in annoyment before grabbing her face and pulling down so it could be close to yours.

"Kerstin is my Dutch bloody girlfriend who I love very much-"

"you also love her abs"

"Who I also love her abs and I would like to eat dinner with her before we go to the bedroom and do unspeakable things!"

You finished with raised brows at your girlfriend's satisfied gaze "Well if you wanted me that bad you could've just asked" she teased and leaned in to kiss you.

It was sweet until your hands moved around her toned stomach and she leaned away.

"I thought you wanted to eat dinner first"

"It can wait"

#woso #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso community #kerstin casparij #kerstin casparij x reader #manchester city

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 8 months

Text

A prominent women’s chess player has accused a fellow player of rape and sexual harassment as she warned a “toxic culture“ of misogyny and sexually predatory behaviour plagues the chess community.

Sabrina Chevannes, a women's international chess master, said she was raped at a chess tournament by another contestant.

The 36-year-old, who quit professional chess in January 2017, told The Independent the incident happened when she was black-out drunk as a teenager.

She added: “I woke up in the linen room of the hotel on a table. I was in so much pain. I didn’t quite understand what had happened.

“While playing chess I was in so much pain I could barely sit down. Him and his friends were high-fiving about it.”

Ms Chevannes, who won ten British chess titles, said sexual harassment, sexual assault or discrimination against women has taken place at every chess tournament she has ever attended.

She has endured racism from fellow chess players, with people often assuming she had cheated when she did well in tournaments, she added.

She told of an incident at a chess tournament when a man who was a chess master groped her.

“I was 11 years old,” she recalled. “I wanted to have a picture with him because he was famous in this world. He posed for the picture but did this thing where he put his hand down my back touching my butt. Then he turned around and winked at me.”

She encountered him again at another chess event when she was a teenager where he told her he had seen her on the front of a chess magazine, she added.

“He said ‘You are developing so well’. I said ‘I was at my best rating’, and he said ‘No, I don’t mean developing like that’,” Ms Chevannes recalled.

“He said he may need another copy of the magazine as he said he had worn his down with all the night time reading. He looked at me in a creepy, lecherous manner. When he met me when I was 18, he said ‘now you are legal in all countries’.”

The former player said she would actively avoid tournaments where he was playing. She noted he sexually propositioned her a few years ago - asking her to go back to his hotel room.

Ms Chevannes said: “He used very racist misogynistic language to my face.”

She told of another incident where a different chess player offered to let her sleep in his hotel room as she was tired from her flight but couldn’t check into her room until mid-afternoon.

“He wasn’t in the room when I was sleeping but I woke up to find one hand down my pants and one hand in my bra,” she added. “He did the same thing again when I was in the same house as him and lots of others in the chess community.”

Ms Chevannes, who now coaches chess, said she did not report any of the aforementioned incidents to the police at the time as others warned her she would not be believed.

But she explained social media posts she recently shared about her alleged experiences had been seen by the police who are now looking into her claims.

Female chess players have come forward in recent weeks to make allegations of sexual assault, violence and harassment from male players.

Earlier in the month, 14 of France's top female players wrote an open letter, “denouncing the sexist or sexual violence they have suffered” in the chess community, with over 100 women in chess signing the letter in the space of only five days.

Ms Chevannes described the chess community as an “insular world” with a rigid hierarchy where people are judged by their chess abilities and women are perpetually belittled.

“Women are seen as inferior, they genuinely believe men are superior to women in every way - including intellectually,” she added. “If you beat someone, it's described as you raped them.”

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daniswoso · 4 months

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“Ay dios mio.”

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Warnings: suggestive, alluded smut at the end, but no actually smut if that makes sense, hatred which turns out to be r and AP being dumbasses in love.

Summary: Maybe you don’t hate ‘La Reina’ as much as you thought you did.

You and Alexia had been rivals for as long as you could remember. She was snarky, often making snide remarks on the pitch, she was mean and often times her comments actually hurt your feelings. Though you'd never admit to that.

She pissed you off. Everything about her pissed you off. Her perfect eyes, her stupidly perfect face, her nice body, her ridiculously kind personality off the pitch, the way she'd stop and take pictures with fans even when she was in the biggest rush of her life. You hated just how perfect she was, how drop dead fucking gorgeous she was to you.

God, you had it bad for Alexia Putellas.

***

When the World Cup rolled around, you were ecstatic to have received a call up. And you had gladly accepted.

You felt like you were floating on air as you arrived in Australia. Then you found out you were doomed to share a room with her. Of all the people on the Spanish national team, it just had to be her, didn't it?

Your face scrunched in annoyance at the sight of your name next to Alexia's on the piece of paper the coach had given you. Why her of all people?

Alexia must have been thinking the same, as you saw her face scrunch in disgust, mumbling “Ay dios mio.” (Oh my God) Under her breath, in that stupidly perfect voice of her's. God you hated her. Well, not exactly her, but rather how much you liked her.

God, you really, really liked her.

***

Upon arriving at the room, Alexia having gone shortly before you, you saw Alexia outside. She appeared to be struggling with the keycard.

"Joder." (Fuck.) She mumbled.

"Need some help, la reina?" (The Queen.) You said sarcastically.

***

Alexia's pov.

"Need some help, la reina?" (The Queen.) Y/N said. You froze upon hearing the voice, grumbling before wordlessly passing the keycard to her and rolling your eyes.

God you hated how perfect she looked with that cocky grin on her face. The one she got whenever she sunk a goal into the back of Barca's net when she played against them.

"What's the matter, Putellas? Cat got your tongue, eh?" She teased. God you hated her. And how good she always managed to look, even jet lagged and tired. And how her teeth are so pearly white it's enough to make you swoon and how her stupidly bright eyes are so kind and- Oh.

This wasn't hate. This was a crush.

You grimaced, turning your head to the side and walking inside, hearing her grumble, "Supongo que sí." (I guess so) and walking in behind you.

***

Y/N'S POV.

What happened with Alexia outside threw you off, usually she would make a comment back, take the mick a little bit. But she hadn't. She sounded almost disappointed? But for what?

You decided to push it into the back of your mind, ignoring everything about 'La Reina' . God, you hated her. No you don't, you remind yourself, cringing when you realise that what you thought was hate that you had for Alexia could very well be... a crush.

Dios mio, you thought as you placed your bags down on the bed. Sighing heavily you wiped your forehead for sweat, grimacing when you realised you had been sweating since before you had even landed. You needed a shower.

As you turned to go to the shower, you see Alexia. In only her Barcelona training shorts and a sports bra. You couldn't stop your eyes wandering down to her impeccable abs.

She quirked an eyebrow, smirking smugly. "My eyes are up here, amiga." (Friend.) She said smugly, taking a step toward you as your eyes snapped up to hers.

"Hm. And what nice eyes they are." You muttered, trying to not let her hear, knowing she'd hang it over your head for months to come.

"Oh so my eyes are nice?" She chuckled, taking another step. Your eyes travelled back down to her abs.

"Maybe." You hummed, eyes meeting hers again as she lifts your chin with her index finger. She smirked.

"Is that a maybe?" She said, her eyes flicking down to your lips as she licks her own slightly. "Or is it a yes?" She stared into your eyes softly. She smelled like her perfume. Her stupidly nice smelling perfume. And her breath smelled like mint, it was like a breath of chilled air when you felt her breath against your face.

"And what if it was a yes, La Reina?" You decided to bite, playing into Alexia's little teasing game. You smirked slightly, quirking an eyebrow.

"Then I might kiss you."

That was all it took before your lips were on hers, shoving your bags off your bed before straddling her hips and deepening the kiss, which she was more than happy to reciprocate, gripping your hips.

"Maybe I don't hate you." She breathed out as you part.

"Maybe I don't hate you either, Reina." You chuckled, making her smile.

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Okay."

******

A/N: enjoy!

#woso soccer #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso community #woso one shot #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #writer is not english

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totaly-obsessed · 5 months

Note

Hi! Can you do a Mary earps and reader fic where the reader is England medic or coach and all the team love her and Mary is soooo proud and in love but also wants all the attention from her girl plwaseeee

Comfort

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Reader is the Lionesses medic, and also Mary's wife

-> Talk of Alex Greenwood's recent injury

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Mary loved National Camp – all her friends playing together, representing their country. But her favorite thing about it? Being with you 24/7.

As one of the teams’ medics and physios, you accompanied them to every training and game, wearing your wife’s jersey beneath the team jacket. And it was not one of the shirts that you can buy, but one of Mary’s personal ones, one from the euros. So not only were you a good-luck charm but you were also wearing one.

Mornings at Saint George’s Park were your second favorite, right behind breakfast in bed with Mary. While you definitely were not a morning person, your wife was and the early training start didn’t help you either, so at eight in the morning, you were sat at a table in the dining hall – a steamy cup of coffee in front of you, just as you liked it. Mary had given it to you when you returned from your shared room, having to go back because you had forgotten your bag.

The brunette was currently getting food for the both of you, while you tried to wake up with the coffee. “Doc!” You were in fact not a doctor of any kind, but Lucy didn’t care either way and just threw herself down in one of the chairs next to you. The defender handed you a small chap-stick-like tube. “It’s a wake-up-stick. Thought ya could need it.” You smiled at her gratefully, thanking her with a quick squeeze of her hand. After applying the stick, you waited, and while you didn’t notice an immediate difference it smelled nice.

“Aye Miss Earps! How have ya been?” It was Ella’s loud voice that eventually pulled you out of your sleep-induced trance. The younger girl sat down next to you – in Mary’s chair - as she excitedly told you a story of something Alessia had done, who sat on her other side, followed by Garce. Eventually, Esme, Hempo, and Maya joined in as well. The table had become too small after Grace sat down, but no one cared. The footballer just pulled in more tables and chairs, making the circle bigger and bigger until Mary finally came back. “Oi, what’s this then?”

The entire Lionesses squad had squished around a couple of tables, exited chatter filling the room, with you somewhere in between. “Up ya get Tooney.” The brunette could whine and pout as much as she liked but Mary was ruthless, wanting to sit next to her wife. You thanked her with a quick kiss, rolling your eyes as you heard Rachel yell “There’s children here – perverts!” Your favorite goalkeeper was quick to yell “And you’re one of them!” back at the blonde as the table started laughing.

You loved this. While you were not a part of the team that was on the pitch, the girls loved you. For you, and not for being Mary’s wife.

After eating you had to leave earlier, needing to set up the treatment room, checking if everything was where it was supposed to be. Georgia was the first to come in, wanting some numbing cream on her ankle as she had an incredibly sore bruise there. Next was Ellie, who got her neck taped as she had some tension there. After all the smaller complaints had been dealt with, your very favorite patient entered the room, hugging you from behind to announce her arrival.

“My turn, Lovie.” It was a nice little ritual you had built up over time – Mary would sit down and apply ice spray to her hands before you started taping her left one, laying a kiss on top when finished, before repeating the same thing for her second hand. Then came your favorite part – taping her shoulders. After making sure that no one else was in the room and that there were no cameras your wife would take off her shirt, pulling the straps of her sports bra to the sides as well as she could.

This was also the brunette’s favorite part, as you massaged her tense shoulders, layering them in soft kisses – marveling at her muscles as you started taping them. “Like what you see, my love?” She would always ask, a teasing smirk on her face before she would pull you into a passionate kiss – the last one both of you would get before the end of training.

It was the last day before the England-Belgium game and the small training session had gone by without any problems, sending the players to recovery.

But it was the next day, matchday, that you and your abilities would be tested.

In the seventh minute, the game was interrupted with a call of ‘handball into the area by Chloe Kelly’ which meant that there would be a freekick for Belgium in an incredibly dangerous position. Mary had set the girls up to her liking but the ball was struck with perfection, curling nicely, and finding the back of the net – leaving your wife to catch the rebound ball as she laid on the ground. It was devastating, knowing that she would blame herself for it. But it was only the seventh minute, leaving the whole game up for grabs.

And then it happened.

In the Eighteenth minute, a long ball from the Belgian goalkeeper found its way to the other side of the pitch, leaving Alex Greenwood and Jassina Blom to collide with their head against each other. Directly in front of the England bench.

Before the blonde even hit the ground, you had started running with your colleague grabbing the bag.

Alex was lying head-down on the pitch as the stadium got silent in shock. You kneeled by her head, getting as close to her as you managed. “Can you hear me, Alex?” But you quickly noticed that she couldn’t answer you, she was in too much pain. “Tap your finger once for yes, twice for no. Can you hear me?” One tap.

She was still conscious.

“Have you had more than one concussion before?” One tap.

Fuck.

Knowing the risks of multiple head injuries, it was important to react in a proper manner. Most of the players were standing at Sarina’s side as she gave instructions, but you could feel their scared stares finding you again and again as you tried to hide Alex from the world. Mary didn’t stand too far away from you, terrified that you were on the pitch. As much as she loved you, when you were on the pitch something bad had happened.

You were checking the injured player’s pulse and her pupils, as everything showed signs of a terrible concussion – but with previous injuries, this was a ticking time bomb. Just a minute later the field doctors entered the pitch, stretcher in hand as they walked towards you.

The Belgian player sat up again, a bandage on her head, but it was too risky to sit Alex up. Any sudden movement could send her into a seizure and the aftereffects could be immense. With all of the doctors at your side now, you carefully turned the player on her back, after getting confirmation from a professional you had placed a wet rag over her eyes, trying to shield them from the harsh lights.

Mary was standing behind you, offering her legs as something to lean against, which you gladly accepted as her teammate was heaved onto the stretcher as carefully as possible. In the 31st minute, Alex was finally stretchered off by the medical professionals as you sat back down in your seat – heart pumping incredibly fast.

The game was lost, Belgium winning 3-2 the shock of Alex’s injury still sitting deep.

Back in the team hotel, it was quiet, they had not only lost an important game, but Alex their friend and teammate was in the hospital.

Mary sat next to you on one of the big couches as some of the younger ones looked for comfort in the two of you. It was Chloe who just blatantly sat down in your lap, cuddling into your wife and yourself looking for warmth and shelter. And it did not take too much longer until you were covered in players as they flocked towards you like a herd of lost sheep that were looking for comfort.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps #man united wfc x reader

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itsscromp · 1 month

Text

5 months

A story inspired by this TikTok I hope you all enjoy 😊😊 word count:1.2k

Simon woke up to the all to familiar bright lights and beeping sounds of the hospital. He groaned in pain as he felt like he couldn't move. Thankfully he was spared as you were there to dim the lights after seeing him awake.

"Hey buddy... How are you feeling ??" You asked, To which he replied to a dry cough, water please.

You gently handed him the cup of water and placed the straw into his mouth, Taking a few sips. "What... Happened ??" He asked.

You looked down for a little bit and sighed. "The entire building was rigged with explosives, We began to run out before i found out you weren't behind me. Me and soap began to move the rubble that was in the explosives... and well" You looked over at his badly broken body. Both legs were broken, One arm was broken and 5 cracked ribs.

"The doctor said you won't be back on your feet for a least 3 months"

"Fucking hell..." He sighed.

Regardless, you were happy to keep him company and help him whenever you could. 3 months came by and he was finally free of those damned casts. He could be able to move freely.

But one night, upon closer inspection when he got out of the shower. He lost a lot of muscle, and seemed to gain a little bit of weight too... "This cannot get any worse" He started to tear up, He was already self conscious about his body as it is, this was just almost insult to injury.

He tried to shrug it off for the next week, trying to squeeze in any workouts as he could. But every time someone walks past him, he would always get some form of comment. "Nice tits lieutenant" "Need a training bra ??" "Give us one squeeze please ??" He had to fight every instinct to not throw a weight at there heads... But they were right.

He stood there in his room, looking at his worthless body, His abs weren't as defined anymore. His pecs could hardly be called pecs. His biceps seemed to almost have deflated. Not to mention the pudgy sides around his waist seem to top over. As he started to tear up again, He began to repeatedly smash the mirror in front of him. he hated seeing himself like this. He did was a fucking passion.

You heard the smashed glass and rushed toward his room, Trying your best to pull him away. "Easy easy !!"

"Get off of me !!" He cried out.

"Simon relax, relax... It's just me" You gently took his hands and squeezed them gently. Looking at him in the eyes.

You could see the anger, sadness and insecurity the had, He has already been through a lot and this... This just fucking hurt him.

"Come here, let me have a look" You gently took his hand and inspected it, Just grazes, not deep cuts. So you went and got the first aid kit.

As you treated his wound, he looked down at the floor, seeing the tears fall down. "I fucking hate myself..."

"Simon... Please don't say that" You finished wrapping has bandages and looked at him.

"I do, y/n... Look at me... I'm not what I am" He started to cry a tad bit heavier.

You gently wrapped your arms around him, you knew this was hurting him badly, you didn't want to see him hurt. So later that night, you began to figure out a workout routine. One that was while excruciating, you knew this would get him back to what he once was.

The following morning, you burst into his room, blowing a whistle, and making him jolt awake. "What are we still doing sleeping around lieutenant !! Gym gear on and meet me in the gym !!" You did your best coach voice and urged him out.

Simon was a tad bit shocked when he saw you, But regardless he got his gym clothes on and soon followed you. You had set everything up. Weights, cardio, courses, and protein shakes. "For our warm up I want you to do 30 push ups"

"Y/n..."

"Don't talk back, Don't give up come on let's go !!"

He knew you meant well as he did his 30 pushups. Today you were his best friend and now his coach, You had him do a lot of things. But when it came to rest period, you brought him over to the mirror.

"I want you to take your shirt off"

He froze as you said that, But you gave him reassuring eyes knowing that it was just you two, He trusted you... So slowly he took off his shirt, He looked away from the mirror once he saw his pudgy stomach. But you gently went up to him. "You know what I see Simon ??"

He kept his eyes away from the mirror but turned to look at you, Giving you a soft look. "I see... Someone who has worked really hard today. Someone who is the strongest being that I have come to know and love. Someone who I know will work hard to see himself again. It will take time, But I know you got this Simon. Just don't beat yourself up... I know this"

You struggled for a while on your body and how you looked as well, You didn't want to see Simon sad and angry at himself.

"Yeah... Ok"

After the gym session, he went back to his room and saw that the mirror had been replaced, he didn't think much to begin with, But he took your advice in hand and went over to it. Taking his shirt off again, this time looking at himself, while yes it will be hard... "I can do this, I can... It'll take time" He said as he gently rubbed his stomach and patted it.

The training sessions continued and got harder, But you helped push Simon to his limit and to the point where he didn't know he was capable of, Downing every protein bar or shake he could, and making sure he looked at himself in the mirror after every session, to learn to love the body that he is in.

5 months later.

Simon wiped his sweat as he placed down the weights, It was hard, excruciating, and sometimes even painful, But it was all worth it, he began to workout shirtless again like he used to. Walking to the mirror with the upmost confidence, looking at himself, and flexing his biceps, he saw the snake-like veins had come back. His manly pecs have sprung back to life, he smirked as he began to pop his pecs, his Terry crews vibes were you could say... "Popping off" and his 6-pack abs have been upgraded to an 8-pack. But the smallest difference is there was the tiniest amount of pudge on his sides. but he could let that slide, all he knew was that he was happy with the way he was.

You walked into the gym and saw him looking at himself, all happy. "I knew you could do it" You smiled up at him.

"No thanks to you sergeant" He smiled and ruffled your hair, he was super thankful for you, his best friend and coach. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly. "Ok muscles don't crush me" You chuckled as did he.

Simon worked his ass off for 5 months, and it paid off big time. All thanks to you.

Taglist: @callofdudes

#platonic #reader insert #simon ghost riley #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you

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roosterforme · 8 months

Text

Batting Practice Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You only get two nights alone with Bradley in Palm Springs, and you're determined to enjoy every minute of your honeymoon. Bradley isn't so sure how you'll feel about the gifts he bought for you, but you light up when you see them. While the weekend felt too short, going home means you both get to see Everett again.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smut

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley held your hand the entire way to Palm Springs as the two of you softly shared your ideas for the future. It was dark outside, and there was no traffic, making for a peaceful ride. You had changed out of your wedding dress into some leggings and one of his tee shirts, but you still looked as beautiful as you had earlier at the ballpark when he slipped your wedding band on your finger. Right now you were talking about going to Disney World when Everett had a school break, but the details didn't matter to Bradley. He was happy going anytime you wanted.

"I've never been to Florida. I've barely been out of California, and even then, just for work conferences in Minneapolis in the middle of winter," you told him, rubbing your soft fingers along his rough ones. "But you've been everywhere."

Bradley contemplated his response for a beat. Sure, he'd been all over the world with the navy. He'd seen a lot and been able to act the part of a tourist at times, too. But he'd never experienced this before. "Yeah," he agreed, turning down a desert road. "But this is the first time I've had a home since I was a kid, Kitten. I'll take you and Ev anywhere you want to go, happily. And then we can return home where everything is perfect. Home is where the Phillies room is."

Your laughter filled the Bronco as the lights of Palm Springs came into view between the mountains. Bradley navigated the last few miles to the hotel, and then he helped you out before grabbing both bags. The night was cool, and you had goosebumps on your arms when he touched you there, but your lips were warm and inviting. "I love you," he whispered. "Let's go to our room."

He wasn't sure if it was the chilly air that made you shiver or his words, but he was planning on showing you how many different ways he could love you over the next two days. Emotionally and physically. It only took a minute to get checked into the small boutique hotel, and then you were leading the way to the room, occasionally grinning at him over your shoulder.

As soon as that door was closed and you said, "Oh, look how pretty-" Bradley had his mouth on yours as he pushed you up against the door. "Coach," you gasped, pliant in his arms as his hands found their way up inside your shirt.

"You feel so good. So soft," he whispered, voice harsh as you started to pull the shirt over your head. As you stood there in your white lace bra, nipples peaked against the decadent looking fabric, he said, "You're my wife."

The way your body arched into his as your head tipped back against the door made his eyes go wide. He wrapped his big hands around your hips and hauled you to bed, pressing you down underneath his bodyweight as he dipped his hand into the elastic waistband of your pants. You were so wet. He shouldn't have been surprised. And now you were getting a little loud as he stroked your clit. That didn't really surprise him either.

"I like you loud," he grunted, taking a minute to wrench your tight pants down your legs and drop them to the floor. You were perfect, writhing around, gasping his name in your white thong and matching bra. When you reached for him, he tried to slow his pace, tried to get himself undressed, but he just couldn't.

So the first time he made love to you after you got married, Bradley still had his jeans mostly on, and your pretty panties were pushed to the side to accommodate him. He managed to get your bra off as you ran your hands along his neck and up into his hair, and then you pulled his shirt off for him. But the urgency to be with you was still there. He hoped it never went away.

"I love you, Coach," you gasped, keening loudly as he sucked on your tits and got you off with his fingers and his cock. And then he came for you, messing up your thong when he withdrew, watching his cum seep out of you and onto the bedding.

"We're gonna destroy this room," he whispered, taking in your body and the way you were gently stroking your tits in the aftermath.

You bit your lip and watched him stand at the foot of the bed. "Let me know when you're ready again. I have an idea for that couch."

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

As soon as you got cleaned up from round one with Bradley's undershirt back on, you dug around in your overnight bag. And then it became abundantly clear that Molly packed your overnight bag with a specific agenda in mind. Yeah, she packed your toothbrush, face wash and makeup. Sure, she packed your phone charger and vitamins. But when it came to clothing, all you had with you was your leopard print bathing suit, one of Molly's bodycon dresses, and lingerie. And more lingerie. And new lingerie that you'd never even seen before.

"Bradley!" you called out to your newly minted husband who was in the bathroom. You stormed over to the door and pushed it open to reveal him washing his hands.

"Yeah, Baby?"

"Why did you let Molly pack my bag?"

He gave you a funny look. "I thought she'd know better about what you'd want to bring here than I would."

You laughed and shook your head. "She packed it for you. Not me. There's nothing in there except sexy underwear and one skin tight dress."

Bradley's grin grew as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I'm gonna thank her right now."

"When I'm wearing an inappropriately short dress to dinner tomorrow night, that's on you and her," you told him, strolling out onto the balcony that overlooked the pool.

But he was right behind you, pressing himself against your back as you leaned against the railing and looked out over the desert lit up by moonlight. "This dress? How short we talking?"

You pushed your butt back against him and whispered, "You'll think my pussy is on your dinner menu."

The way he groaned in your ear and wrapped his arm around you left little doubt in your mind that he was ready for round two. "How about for a midnight snack?" he asked, reaching beneath the shirt you were wearing and running his rough hand up your thigh. His lips and breath were hot on your neck as you wiggled your butt. He hissed, "I want you."

"You just had me," you replied, biting your lip as you watched the few people below who were having a late night swim. And then he was slipping one long finger down along your slit and pushing it inside your pussy, still messy with his cum from a little bit ago.

"Well, I want you again." He was kissing the side of your neck now as you contemplated whether or not it was a good idea to do this on the balcony. "How could I not want my sexy wife?"

Okay, so you were going to let him fuck you on the balcony.

While your room didn't have any exterior lights shining, it wasn't so dark up here that you were completely hidden. And the wrought iron railing wasn't going to help hide much, but you were already getting excited just thinking about it. When you bent a little more at the waist so your bare butt and thighs were rubbing against the front of his shorts, you looked at him over your shoulder and whispered, "You wanna?"

With a groan so loud you were afraid the people in the pool might look up, he withdrew his finger from your pussy. "I wanna." And then you squeaked as he wrapped his forearm around your belly and ground himself against you. "You gotta keep quiet, Kitten." And then he bent you a little more, and you could feel the cool night air on your slick opening before he yanked down his shorts and filled you up.

You weren't prepared to take him right then all at once, and Bradley had to cover your mouth immediately as you braced your hands on the railing.

"I love it when you get loud," he grunted next to your ear as he started thrusting. When you licked his palm, paying special attention to his wedding band, he slipped two fingers inside your mouth. "But that should keep you quiet."

Bradley fucked you so hard and fast while you watched everyone in the pool, you were ready to cum after a few minutes. His fingers had you literally drooling, but his mouth was on your neck, and he was whispering how good you were for him.

"You gonna cum, Kitten? I can tell you are." His voice was ragged now as he squeezed your breasts through the shirt, stroking your nipples with just enough pressure that he had to add a third finger to your mouth to keep your moaning quiet. And then you came on his cock, legs shaking and back arched, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you.

"I'm close," he whispered. "You can take it." Then he withdrew his fingers and grabbed your hips with both hands and fucked you even harder. When he came, you bit your lip. There was a couple getting out of the pool, and they glanced around as Bradley finished. He slipped out of you, his warm cum coating your inner thighs as you stood. You kept yourself in front of him as the couple glanced your way briefly, but Bradley was too busy singing your praises next to your ear to notice.

"I can't believe we did that," you said with a shy smile as you spun to face him.

Bradley smirked as he tucked himself back into his shorts. "I still want to know what you have planned for the couch."

"Maybe I'll show you tomorrow."

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

Bradley woke up the next morning with your naked body wrapped around him and a strip of sunlight streaming in through the sliding glass door. Your diamond ring was sending little bursts of color along the ceiling and the walls as it reflected the light, and the splotches of orange and green and purple danced across your face as you started to move. Your long eyelashes fluttered as you opened your eyes, and your lips curved into a smile just for him.

"I love you, Coach," you whispered, the reflected colors moving down your body before you slid your hand away and leaned up to kiss him.

He cupped your cheek and whispered, "Mrs. Bradshaw," between kisses.

It was just a few seconds before you were riding him, putting on a show and letting him touch you all over. Bradley loved the visual of you sliding up and down his cock, getting a little louder with each motion. "You're gorgeous," he groaned, caressing your thighs and hips with his big hands. "I can't believe I have a wife. A fucking MILF at that."

You laughed and leaned down to kiss him, anchoring your hands against his shoulders as you continued to fuck him just right. When you and he were spent, you were draped across him again while he was still buried inside you. "I'm hungry," you whispered, kissing his neck.

"Room service? I wasn't really planning on sharing you with anyone else until dinner."

You pouted up at him as he played with your paw print charm. "I want to go in the pool."

He nodded. "I'd kind of like to see what our balcony looks like from down there. I swear that couple last night saw us." Your soft moan let him know what he suspected; you found it more sexy than upsetting that someone may have seen part of that. Some knowledge to keep tucked away for next time. "Let's go check out the cafe."

"You're so funny," you told him, easing yourself out of bed and leaving his messy cock resting against his abs. "I. Don't. Have. Any. Clothing."

Bradley laughed as he stood as well. "Put your sexy leopard print bathing suit on, jungle kitten. The pool bar will serve us food."

He watched you pull on your bathing suit as you muttered some unfriendly things about Molly. "At least she gave me flip flops."

"You can always buy something from one of the shops downstairs," Bradley said, lacing his fingers with yours and coaxing you down to the lobby.

But what started as a search for a dress or a cute outfit for you quickly turned into something for Bradley and Everett.

"Check it out!" he said, holding up a child's size baseball jersey that said Palm Springs Vintage League. "They have some for adults, too."

You flipped over the price tag and balked. "Ev doesn't need it for two hundred dollars."

Bradley frowned. "But he and I could match. All three of us could, if you want one too, Kitten."

"He'll outgrow it by next year."

He stood there and just stared at you. He had a son now. Kids outgrew things as they got older. The thought was really unsettling to him as he held up the little jersey, much like the Bradshaw one that you had gifted to him yesterday. It was adorable, and Everett would love it. "I don't even know what size he wears," Bradley muttered, checking the tag for a different reason.

"He's usually a 7/8," you replied casually. But when Bradley went silent again, you asked, "What's wrong?"

He swallowed hard and said, "I just... don't know that kind of stuff about him. You know? I feel like I know a lot. Like I try to pay attention. I know what he likes and doesn't like. I know that he loves the Phillies and science class and pancakes and swimming. I know that he doesn't have any allergies, because it was on his fact sheet for tee ball." You wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed her sternum though his shirt. "But, Kitten... I didn't know what size he wears. And I don't know his blood type or anything like that. What if something happens to him when he's with me? What if there's something important I should know and I fuck it up?"

"His blood type is A negative," you said, squeezing him a little tighter as he gripped the hanger in his hand. "And you're not going to fuck anything up, Bradley."

"I accidentally taught him a bad word last week. And I accidentally kind of told him what a sugar daddy does."

You burst into laughter against his chest, shaking in his arms as you tried to calm down. "Okay, but that's not the end of the world. And honestly, both of those are pretty funny now when I think about them. But you care about Ev so much. You went and got him from Danny's house when I called you."

He kissed your forehead. "Don't talk about Danny," he growled. "Hate him."

"See? You're nothing like him at all! You think Danny knew Everett's blood type? Or what size he wore? The difference is, Danny didn't care to know those things at all. You do. And you'll catch on to more now that you live with us."

Bradley nodded and took a deep breath. And when he left the shop holding your hand after purchasing three of the jerseys, you didn't complain about the price at all.

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

After you ate brunch on an oversized lounge chair next to the mid century modern pool with Bradley, you fell asleep while he watched the Padres recap on his phone. Your body was sore from last night, but he kept his arm wrapped around you, stroking your skin softly with his fingertips.

As you dozed on and off, you muttered to Bradley, "Will you text Molly or Bob and check on Ev? And see how Ev's future cousin is doing?"

"Already did about an hour ago," he replied, taking your hand and kissing your fingers. "All good. Ev and Bob went on a hike. And apparently Molly ate some vegetables for the baby but washed them down with gummy bears."

"That sounds right," you murmured, yawning and stretching. "You wore me out, Coach."

Bradley looked at you from under the bill of his cap. "I thought you promised me that your pussy was on my dinner menu."

The waiter who was walking by snickered, and you tried to hide your face. "Bradley," you groaned.

"Well, is it on my dinner menu or not, Kitten? I'm starving for it."

"You're insatiable."

"It's our honeymoon. But I'm going to take you on a longer trip just the two of us. Because as much as I love Ev and want to know everything about him, I love you, too. And I love my dinner menu."

You ended up jumping in the pool to get him to stop, but he came splashing in right behind you. When he swam over to you, he grabbed you and you clung into him. "Remember the tee ball pool party?" you asked as he swiped his hair back from his forehead.

"Remember it? Kitten, that was our first kiss."

You bit your lip and pressed the tip of your nose to his. "Got a little spicy in the clubhouse kitchen."

"Bob caught us," he said with a smirk, wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you over to the side of the pool. "He knew I was head over heels."

"I was so embarrassed!"

"And just think, pretty soon he'll probably be your brother-in-law. Uncle Bob."

You smothered his face in kisses and said, "I love my family."

And you really meant it, even as you were squeezing into the stretchy bodycon dress Molly had packed so you could go to dinner. It didn't look as good on you as it did on her, but it honestly wasn't terrible.

"Holy shit," Bradley grunted. "Molly needs to let you borrow that indefinitely."

You rolled your eyes. "She's going to want it back. I'm sure Bob-"

"Do not finish that sentence!" he practically shouted. "I want to enjoy the erection I'm going to have later, okay?"

You started laughing as you covered your mouth with your hand. "Let me finish my makeup, and then we can go." You touched up your mascara and your lipstick. Okay, now you did look pretty hot. Tight red dress. Red lips. Dark eye makeup.

"Ready?" you asked, strolling out of the bathroom and slipping your feet into your black heels. Your eyes settled on a wrapped box that was placed on the foot of the bed. "What's that?"

Bradley's smirk made your heart race. "Just a little something I got for you. For us."

You pressed your lips together. "Am I allowed to open it now?"

But he shook his head. "It's strictly for after dinner, Kitten."

Your mind was racing. Maybe he got you some kind of new lingerie? Or a toy? You thought of so many sexy things as he led you downstairs to the restaurant with his hand on your butt.

When you looked up at him through your lashes, he whispered, "You look perfect." The thing was, you felt perfect. You had never felt a fraction of this love and excitement with Danny. You never felt starved for attention now, and neither did Everett. You felt adored and listened to and understood. It made you want to do something crazy like drop to your knees and give him a blowjob in the elevator.

You managed to hold it together as you did have to ride down to the wine cellar restaurant with an elderly couple. But just barely. You let your knuckles graze Bradley's cock through his pants with intent. And he grunted in response, his pupils blown wide.

"Just wait, Kitten." His voice sounded threatening, and you had to squeeze your thighs together. And that feeling didn't improve as you and he sat side by side with glasses of merlot and an enormous steak that you shared along with countless sides and crusty bread that made your mouth water.

"I love it here," you told him before he fed you some steak from his fork. "This is my favorite dinner. And the wine is incredible."

He kissed your cheek and let his lips and mustache trail back closer to your ear. "Get as tipsy as you want, Baby. But don't get drunk. I'm going to need your consent for what's in that little box on the bed, okay?"

A shiver ran through your body as you turned to face him. He had his hand on your thigh, tucked up underneath the tiny dress, and his mustache felt rough against the shell of your ear.

"Okay," you agreed. But after another glass of wine, you could barely keep your lips off of him in the dimly lit restaurant. You were honestly so ready to go back to the room when he held up a dessert menu.

"What would you like?" he asked, stroking your leg. "I'll be having your pussy for dessert, but why don't you pick out something sweet to take back up to the room?"

You couldn't remember what you ordered, but it must have been cheesecake. You were holding the to-go container and rubbing yourself all over Bradley in the elevator twenty minutes later. He had lipstick on his shirt collar, and the top few buttons were undone. He was flushed a pretty shade of pink, and you arrived back at your floor just as your hand went to the button on his pants.

The wine went to your head, but you weren't quite drunk. But it was hard to walk in your heels now, so Bradley carried you as you held your cheesecake. "Are you gonna fuck me, Coach?" you asked when he reached the door and unlocked it with one hand.

He kissed you and set you down as the door closed behind you. "I want to, Kitten. But first, I'm going to get changed, and then you can open that box, okay?"

You nodded and watched him undress before pulling on just a pair of gray sweatpants. "Why are you putting clothes back on?" you whined stomping one high heel on the floor.

He chuckled and shrugged. "It's gonna be a minute before we get down to it. And I don't want to distract you, Baby. Now come here." He pulled you closer by your hips before letting his hands slide down to the bottom of the dress. Slowly, he pulled the fabric up your body and over your head. You moaned, completely bare for him. "Fucking gorgeous," he whispered, running his fingers down the valley between your breasts.

When you tried to kick your heels off, you whined his name, "Bradley, please. I want to open the box." The gold wrapping paper looked so enticing.

"In a minute," he promised, kissing your shoulder. "How do you feel about keeping the high heels on?"

You looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "I'll keep them on for you."

"They'll match perfectly," he crooned, sucking gently on your neck. "With these." He reached for the box and handed it to you, his cheeks still flushed with pink.

But now your husband looked a little apprehensive as you tore into the gold paper and gently removed the top of the box. You gasped, gaping up at him before looking back down at the pretty burgundy velvet with gold accents. "You want me to...wear these?" you asked him in barely a whisper.

He ran his hands slowly up and down your sides. "Yes. The collar has your name on it."

You set the box on the bed and pulled out the matching collar and leash. There was a charm dangling off the collar. Mrs. Bradshaw.

"But only if you want to, Kitten," Bradley reassured you in his sweet voice.

You let the warm velvet and the cool metal meet your hands for a few seconds. They were pretty. You liked them. You liked the idea of wearing them. When you looked up at him, you held your hands out. "Put them on me?"

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

Bradley was actually living in his wildest fantasy at the moment. He was married. To you. He had a home and a family. And he was very gently tightening a collar around your neck while he placed soft kisses to your bare shoulder.

"Fuck," he groaned, pulling away to get a good look. You were nibbling nervously on your lip, your hand coming up to feel the charm. The tag. You were tagged with his name. His cock was so hard in his sweatpants, he thought he might cum right now. And he hadn't even finished clasping the leash to your pretty collar yet.

Both were a deep red velvet, so satisfying looking against his skin. And once the leash was hooked on, he was throbbing.

"How do I look, Coach?"

"Mmm, you look like my sexy Kitten. Will you let me take some pictures of this? Maybe a little video? Use it to get me through my next deployment."

"Of course," you said, rubbing yourself against him as he held his camera up and took a few photos.

"God damn," he groaned. "You look incredible, Baby." Then you took the end of the leash and put it in his hand.

"Don't be too rough," you whispered, kissing the corner of his lips.

"Never, Kitten," he promised, backing up toward the couch. As soon as you felt the tug, you followed him, your high heels clicking across the marble floor tiles. He loved the sound of it. He loved the look of you. And when he sank down onto the couch, he took a few more photos before tossing his phone aside. "Come on up here," he whispered, rubbing his thigh. "I know you like this."

You were practically purring as you straddled his thigh and eased yourself down so your perfect pussy was resting on his sweatpants. Bradley shortened the leash and yanked softly until your tits bounced and you slid higher on his leg. And then you started to grind, and Bradley kissed along your collar as he kept the leash taut.

"I knew your pussy would be on the menu."

When you let our head tip back, he pulled a little harder on the leash so you were whining as he cupped your ass. "This is exactly what I wanted to do on the couch."

"God, Kitten. You're a dream come true."

He let you lean forward to kiss his lips and play with the hair at the back of his neck. You tasted like wine. Your nipples were hard. Your pussy was soaking his pants. Intoxicating.

Then you whispered, "I'm your pet," before you delicately licked his mustache.

"Jesus Christ," he grunted as you licked his cheek and his ear like a cat. You were the hottest thing he'd ever witnessed, and you were riding his thigh. "Lick my cock," he commanded, tugging on your leash until you were forced down between his legs.

You looked up at him and then started to lick at the wet spot you left on his pants, and Bradley was helpless to force you to stop. Your tits were bouncing as you licked up your silky wetness before reaching for the elastic band and pulling his pants down. You pulled his sweatpants clean off of him and wrapped both hands around his aching cock. His tip was so red, it looked purple.

When Bradley yanked on the leash, you licked the underside of his tip and looked up at him. Every little kitten lick sent a jolt of pleasure through him. He was panting your name as sweat broke out on his face and chest. "You're the hottest thing I've ever seen, Baby." Truly, the sight before him was almost too much. He reached for his phone again and started recording a video.

You looked at the camera, licking him with short strokes of your tongue and smiling a little sheepishly. "Tell me, who's big cock are you licking, Kitten?"

Then you whimpered and said, "My husband's."

"A little louder, Baby," he said, snapping the leash, making you whine.

"My husband's big cock!"

"God, I love you." Now you were taking him between your lips and sucking on him. He let you go for a few minutes, enjoying the sight of that little gold charm hitting your perfect skin as you bobbed and gagged. But he knew what else he wanted to do as he set his phone down again.

When he yanked on your leash, you responded instantly, releasing him from your mouth with a little pop. "Go climb up on the bed, Kitten." He let the leash out a bit so you could stand, and then he stood and pulled you toward the bed. "You like this, don't you?"

"I love it," you replied with a grin before you crawled up onto the bed on your hands and knees. You knew what to do. You presented him with your ass and pussy. You were his pet right now. His very well behaved pet. His cock was still wet from your saliva, and when he pushed himself inside you, he yanked that leash back.

"Bradley!" you screeched, barely able to keep your hands on the bedding with how he was making your back arch.

"You can do it, Baby. I know you can." As he stood there and fucked you, he watched you spread your legs a little wider. Your back arched beautifully. Your fingertips scraped for purchase on the bedding. "That's it."

Bradley fucked you so hard as he pulled on the leash, you couldn't even talk. But you were grinding back into him as you made little sounds. He was addicted to this. He let his free hand come up to rest on your lower back before easing it down along your ass. So close. He was so close. Your pussy was gripping him, and it was the most beautiful sight. He could watch this all night long. But he was going to cum.

He let go of the leash, grabbing at both hips as he started to slow his thrusts down. "Fuck!" he barked leaning down to kiss along your collar. And he filled you up, rubbing his hands along that pretty ass before watching his cum drip out of your pussy and onto the bedding.

You rolled onto your back and reached for him, that Mrs. Bradshaw charm shining in the lamplight. When you made no more to unclip the least or take off the collar, Bradley crawled onto the bed next to you. "I love you," he whispered, gathering you against him with so many kisses, feeling your high heel graze his calf.

"We'll do that again, right?" you asked, raking your fingers through his hair.

"Whenever you want it," he promised. "I'd give you anything. You must know that."

You closed your eyes and smiled. "Feed me the cheesecake."

A minute later, Bradley was sitting back against the headboard with your back pressed to his chest. He had his arms wrapped around you, holding the fork and the container, and you were taking bites and moaning softly. You were still wearing your collar.

"I can't believe we have to go home tomorrow." You opened your mouth for more of your dessert.

"I miss Ev," he whispered, earning a kiss to his chin. "And I can't have him riding around in Bob's truck too much, or he might start to like it better than the Bronco."

"Never," you gasped, and Bradley fed you the last bite. Then you yawned, and he helped you get ready for bed. "You wore me out again, Coach."

"We're just getting started."

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

Late the next morning, after a very leisurely room service breakfast and sex in the shower, you and Bradley were on the road back to San Diego. Your body was so sore, and you were wearing Bradley's gray sweatpants and one of his undershirts. Molly really was the best sister in the world for only packing you the necessities.

You had your hand resting on Bradley's on the seat between you while you sipped some coffee. The radio was playing an oldies station, and Bradley knew all the words. The desert was giving way to some suburbs and you thought you should text Molly and Bob and let them know you'd be there soon.

When Bradley flipped his hand over and tightened his grip on yours, you turned to him with an expectant look. His voice was deep and steady as he said, "So what's the plan? How soon can I adopt Ev?"

Your heart was so full that now it was overflowing. "I'll call my lawyer tomorrow."

"First thing tomorrow," he replied with a smile. "Thanks for sharing your son with me."

You wanted to thank Bradley for loving Everett, but as tears stung your eyes, you just couldn't. Because this was just simply what you and Ev should have had all along. Now you were both getting top tier adoration, but you deserved nothing less.

"Yeah," you whispered, leaning across the seat to kiss his cheek while he drove. "I'll call first thing in the morning."

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

Just sitting here thinking about Coach Bradley wearing a collar and leash of his very own. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 31

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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