#but I want to do some other ask games first | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

puckinghischier · 2 days

Text

Nervous

Jack Hughes x fem!reader, smitten!Jack

summary: request for jack and reader on their wedding day

notes: this is my first time writing anything for jack and i literally had so much fun with it. i hope you guys like it 😌

[2.6k]

Jack had never been this nervous before. Not during nationals games, not on his draft day, not on the night of his rookie debut, and not in any circumstance that he can remember. Ever. He’s not usually the type to dwell on feelings of nerves, trusting his skill and his ability to focus on the task at hand to get the job done.

Today, though, is the most nerve-wracking day of his life. It’s his wedding day, for crying out loud. The day he gets to marry the girl that has been there for every major event of his life. The girl that has never missed a Devil’s home game. The girl that he’s pretty sure his family loves more than him. The girl that has stuck by him through every hardship and crazy hockey season so far. His girl. The girl he gets to make his wife.

Hell, he wasn’t even this nervous when he asked you to marry him. He recalls the day as if it happened mere hours ago, not a year and a half earlier.

“Jack, where are we going? I thought you said you had an event with the team tonight? You’re going to be late,” you ask, noticing you’re driving further and further away from the city.

You had been doing laundry, trying to get ahead on some chores you had been neglecting, when Jack had come into the living room and told you to put your shoes on, he wanted to take you somewhere. You had asked him where, and if you needed to change, but he simply shook his head no and told you it was a surprise. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jack. You just assumed he found a new ice cream place he thought you would love, or some quaint little coffee shop he knew you’d like.

You didn’t think anything of it until you found yourself watching the city disappear into the distance almost forty-five minutes later, no destination in sight.

“We’re almost there, darling. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” is all he said, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment to flash one of his soft smiles in your direction before continuing to drive.

You sit in the comfortable silence, a slow country ballad playing softly on the radio. Jack’s hand resting on your thigh adding a much-needed warmth to your body, not having grabbed a jacket before Jack dragged you out of your shared apartment. You watch the road around you become surrounded by trees, admiring the greenery that seems so hard to come by in the city.

Before you realize it, too lost in your own thoughts, Jack is turning off of the paved road you were traveling onto a dirt road, clouds of dust billowing behind the car. You lean forward a bit, trying to take in the scenery to find any sort of clue as to where you were. You’re just about to ask where he’s taking you, yet again, when you see the most beautiful scene appear through the windshield.

At the end of the road stood a large red barn, aged in all the right ways. The red was slightly faded, showcasing the years of sun damage and there were pieces of the shingled roof missing, lost in the wind who knows how long ago. Off to the left of the barn was a large area surrounded by a wooden fence, a few horses grazing on the bright green grass. The sun was just beginning to set, causing one side of the barn to be coated in golden sunlight, the other side blanketed in a shadow. As Jack turned the car to enter the field where the barn sat, you noticed the obscene number of lights strung high into the trees covered by the shadow of the barn, giving the effect that little drops of sunlight were dripping from the limbs.

“Jack…what- where are we?” You ask him, disbelief lacing your tone.

“Just a little place I stumbled across with Luke one day. We were out for a drive, just wanting out of the city for a few hours. Found this place and instantly thought of you. Knew I had to bring you here,” he reveals, parking the car and turning off the engine.

Jack opens his door to get out of the car and quickly moves to open yours, taking your hand while leading the two of you over to the forest of lights. You’re so busy looking up at the sight in the trees that you miss the large, wooden arch set up in the middle of the two biggest trees in the mini forest. There were a few hay-bales on each side of the arch, large bouquets of white daisies placed all over the bales, with some even bunched around the top corners of the square arch.

Once you take in the scene in front of you, you turn your head to look at Jack, finding his eyes already on you.

“Jack, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s going on here,” you calmly tell him, even though your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults.

“I told you, I wanted to show this place to you. Thought you’d like it.” His lips curled into an amused smile once he noticed the glare on your face, knowing you were calling his bluff.

“I wanted to show you this place, because I knew you’d like it. Because I know you. How lucky I am to know you,” he begins, slowly moving you forward until you’re standing directly in front of the arch.

“How lucky I am that I’m the person you chose to trust with your heart. How lucky I am to be able to come home to you after a hard day. How lucky I am to be the recipient of your kindness and your love. How lucky I am to bask in your happiness and your spirit day after day. How lucky I am that you put up with the crazy world I live in, and do it without complaint.”

Your hands were starting to shake at this point, eyes watering.

“What I did to deserve all of this, I’ll never know. But I know I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never take you for granted. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives telling you how thankful I am to whatever celestial being lead me to you,” Jack pauses, dropping to his knee and fishing around in his pocket for the velvet box he’s had hidden in a pair of old skates in the closet for months now.

“You are pure sunshine, shining light on every single person you meet. Y/N Y/L/N, please, let me live the rest of my life sunburnt. Marry Me.”

That was the easy part. Asking you to marry him was the quickest and easiest decision Jack had ever made in his life. He hadn’t thought twice when he called Luke on a random Thursday afternoon, telling him he needed to help him run some “errands”, driving to the nearest jeweler as soon as Luke sat in his passengers seat. Didn’t even hesitate when he called your best friend, asking if you had ever talked about what your favorite diamond cut was. Not a nerve in sight when he flew out to meet your parents to ask for their blessing two months before proposing, claiming he was just making a quick trip to visit some friends.

So why? Why was he so nervous today? He’s been looking at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now, worried that his bow tie is crooked, or that his hair looks too messy. He didn’t know why he was so focused on his appearance. You’ve seen him at his worst. You’ve been there to take care of him after far too many drinks on a night out celebrating a win, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head buried in the closest toilet. You’ve seen him after a brutal game, face red from exertion and weird imprints all over his body from his gear. You’ve seen him when he broke down after his first loss during his rookie year, putting all the blame on himself, holding him in your arms as he sobbed in your kitchen.

He knew you didn’t care if a few hairs were out of place, or if his tie was a centimeter too far to the left. But he did. He cared, because this was the most important day of his life, and you deserved for him to look his best. You deserved for him to make sure everything was perfect.

Jack is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, Luke and Quinn making their way into the room.

“Ready, Rowdy?” Quinn asks, going to stand behind Jack in the mirror.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack responds, turning to look at his two brothers, forcing a smile that’s supposed hide all of his nervous emotions.

“Are you sure? Why do you look like you’re about to vomit, then?”

“I don’t? Do I? Oh god, what if she thinks there’s something wrong when she sees me? How do I make myself look like I’m not gonna hurl all over her dress. Luke, do I really look like I’m gonna blow chunks?” Jack frantically asks, looking between the two brothers, turning back around to look at himself in the mirror once again.

“Jack, breathe, man. You look fine. Luke was just being Luke. He doesn’t look like he’s going to vomit, right, Luke?” Quinn attempts to calm Jack, glaring at Luke.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, Jack. You look fine. She’s probably gonna want to jump your bones or some shit. You look great.” Luke blurts, trying to not only escape the wrath of his eldest brother, but to keep Jack from actually vomiting.

“Okay, not what I meant but whatever works, I guess.” Quinn sighs, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders to turn him back around.

“Listen, everything’s going to be fine. We just went to see Y/N, she’s nervous just like you are. I don’t know why, you’re both so painfully obvious with how much you love each other. There’s nothing for you to worry about. She loves you, man. More than I’ve seen someone love another person. As long as you’re standing there waiting on her at the end of the aisle, you could be covered in dog shit for all she cares. She just wants to see you. She just wants to marry you.”

Jack stares at his older brother, letting the words sink in. His thoughts drift to you, only three doors down, standing in your dress looking into the mirror just like he is, freaking out over things that don’t truly matter to him. He thinks about how you could walk down the aisle, hair un-brushed, pajamas still on, slippers on your feet and he would still be ecstatic to see you.

“You’re right, Q. Of course you’re right. I knew I chose you to be my best man for a reason,” Jack chuckles, feeling his nerves settle a bit.

“I know I’m right. I know you. And I know Y/N. As long as the two of you leave here today with the same last name, everything else could go wrong and you would still be the happiest couple I know,” Quinn removes his hands from Jack’s shoulders.

“But, nothing is going to go wrong, because Mom has been out there running around like a madwoman to make sure everything is in place. The only thing left is to make sure you get to the altar. Which is what we were sent here to do,” Luke chimes in, trying to assure his brother one last time.

“Alright. Yeah. I guess it’s time, huh?”

“It’s time, Rowdy. And it’s been a long time coming.” Quinn pats Jack on the back, the three brothers making their way towards the door that was left open.

Jack smiles at his brother’s statement, knowing you’re just as much a part of his brother’s lives as you are his. You watch every single one of Quinn’s hockey games (as long as he’s not playing at the same time as Jack and Luke) and scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain. You were there at Jack’s side for Luke’s draft day, just as proud, if not more, of the youngest Hughes. You always invite Luke over for a post-game dinner, knowing how tired he is after games and wanting to make sure he gets a meal before he goes home and claims he’s too tired to eat dinner. He knows you hold a special place in his mom’s heart, too. Her claim that you’re the daughter she never had proving to be true through this whole process, knowing she’s been involved in every step of this wedding right along side your mom and yourself.

Before Jack knows it, the ceremony is beginning and he’s being given the signal to make his way to the altar, standing next to his groomsmen as he waits for you to walk through those doors.

As he looks out over the crowd, he finds himself growing nervous once again. Did he put on enough cologne? Did he bring the right kind? What if he wasn’t wearing the one you told him was your favorite? Did he brush his teeth? What if he kisses you for the first time as your husband and his breath tastes like the burger he had for lunch? Oh god, what if you don’t want to kiss him because he has burger breath?

Quinn can sense the nervous energy radiating off of his brother once again. He places his hand on Jack’s back, giving him a few pats to let him know he’s right there next to him. That everything’s going to be okay.

Jack looks over at his brother only briefly before he hears the unmistakable tune of “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young start playing through the speakers. It’s Jack’s song for you. He plays it all the time when you’re in the car together, not even trying to be subtle. He loves to send it to you when he’s on the road, letting you know he’s thinking about you. There was absolutely no question in your mind as to what song you were going to choose when your mom asked what you wanted to walk down the aisle to.

He snaps his attention to the double doors that open at the other end of the large room. His stomach is in knots, really hoping he doesn’t actually look like he’s about to puke, because he sure feels like it right now.

As he watches the first flash of white make an appearance in the doorway, he knows he’s a goner.

You step into his full view, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, looking around at the various guests for only a split second before your eyes meet his. Jack swears, all time stops in that second. He can barely see through the tears that well in his eyes, completely in awe of you. You match his gaze, forcing yourself to keep the tears from dropping, not wanting to have mascara streaks running down your face before you even get to the altar.

The two of you simply stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. An unspoken declaration of love passed between one another in a simple glance. Your father having to tug on your arm slightly, forcing you to step forward, too lost in Jack for you to remember where you were and what was currently taking place.

As you start to walk down the aisle, every step bringing you towards Jack, towards the rest of your life with him, the feeling of calmness washes over his body. You’re here. You’re his. And you’re everything he has ever wanted and more. It’s in this moment, watching the rest of his life walk towards him, smile on her face, a single tear slipping down her cheek, Jack Hughes has never been less nervous in his life.

345 notes · View notes

moviecritc · 3 days

Text

easiest conversation ⋆ carlos sainz

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!oc (named Angelique)

tropes: strangers to lovers

summary: carlos and angelique sat next to each other in a tennis match in monaco, leading to an endless conversation.

a/n: english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes and poor storytelling. maybe a part 2 if you like it?

masterlist

Everybody was focused on Carlos' future in Formula 1, he tried so hard to not be worried about it, but every thing he does, the media somehow made it about his career as a driver. So, at the end, he couldn't do anything except being worried too. Many what ifs were in his mind anytime he thought about it.

The past weekend wete the Masters of Montecarlo, a tennis match, and taking advantage of the fact that he was in the city and most of he's teammates were also watching it, he attended as well.

Carlos didn't have the opportunity to talk to any of them, they were seated in different places in the public. Either way, seeing George, Charles and even Lando with their partners made him feel a little bit more miserable than he already felt. No seat and no girlfriend, that's not a very cool situation to be involved.

And there's even more, he doesn't even know a shit about tennis. He played paddel a few times with Lando, but tennis? He had no idea. So he just sat there, gasping when other people gasp and checking his phone once in a while.

"You seem lost," someone said.

Carlos lifts his head that exact moment, connecting looks with a light brunette that was looking at him above her sunglasses.

"Are you talking to me?" he asked, totally confused. Since when that woman was sitting by his side?.

"Yes. You look bored, maybe you just need someone to explain tennis in a cool way," she smiled. A beautiful smile.

Carlos also smiled a bit, in a weird way. Sometimes he forgots that there's people who can effortlesly talk to strangers in a cool and mysterious way. This woman was one of them.

"Yeah, sure. If you can,"

"If I can?" she seemed dramaticly offended. "You don't think a woman can explain tennis to you, man?"

"Oh, no, no, no. I didn't mean it in that way," he said quickly. "Please, go ahead."

She smiled and started explaining all about tennis in the most interesting and funny way possible.

"How do you know so much about tennis?" he asked.

"Well, I'm a tennis player," she explain. "I thought it was obvious."

Carlos noded a bit, noticing a few mobile phones and cameras pointing at them. He didn't realised it until now, and now he was wondering how many pictures and videos of him and that woman would be around the media.

"Uh, well... I mean, I have no idea about tennis," he said, nervously.

"Yeah, I could tell that," she laughed and she infected Carlos with the laughter. "I'm Angelique, by the way."

"Beautiful name. I'm Carlos," they shaked hands with smiles in their faces. He saw some redness on Angelique face after he complimented her. "So you are a tennis player?"

"Yeah." she simply answered.

"Are you good?" Carlos didn't want the conversation to die.

"I try to be," she said. "I'm fifth in the Women's Tennis Association, I don't know if that's enough for you."

Angelique pursed her lips, making a funny face that made Carlos smiled.

"That sounds really good," he said, truly impressed. They were both athletes, maybe that's why it feels so easy to talk to her.

"What about you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm a race driver,"

Angelique raised even more her eyebrows and wide-opened her eyes "Ok, that is so fucking cool!" she remarked. "Which team do you drive for?"

"Ferrari, but..."

"No way! That's even cooler!" she boasted. "I mean, I have no idea about Formula 1. But Ferrari? That is cool guy material, undoubtedly"

Carlos was too invested in Angelique's voice and eyebrow game that wasn't able to tell her that he isn't staying in Ferrari for too long. But they've just met, and being unemployed isn't something to say to someone right off the bat.

He realised that it was the first conversation in a while that he didn't have to mention anything about his future in Formula 1, another reason of him being this comfortable around Angelique.

"And, how did you became a tennis player?" Carlos asked, leaning a little bit to her.

Now, she was focusing on the ball and the movements of the players.

"My brother used to use me as a ball picker when he played tennis, then he broke his arm and I kept his racket," she explained without divert her eyes from the field.

"He stopped playing tennis after that?"

"Well, yes. When he could come back, he was too old and unexperience to achieve something," she said. "But he wasn't very good anyways."

They both laughed and Angelique take off her sunglasses so she could see Carlos better.

"Have you won something in tennis?" he curiously asked.

"Yeah, of course. Matchs and all those things,"

"Have you beaten Serena Williams?" he wondered, with a smirk.

"Not yet," she admited. "But I've won against people who beat Serena."

She smiled proudly. The match was about to end, and none of them were paying attention to it.

"Okey, that's pretty awesome," he said.

She crossed her legs and accomodated her long brown hair to one side, which left Carlos eyeing her in a romantic way.

"And you? How someone decides that he wants to drive really fast cars?"

"My father has been involved in motorsports for a long time,"

"It's always a family thing, don't you think?" she said. "It is hard to find someone who started in sports by themselves."

"It is!" Carlos agreed with her.

He was going to say something else, but they announce the end of the match, everybody standed up to give an applause. Both of them copied the rest of the people.

"Wait, who won?" Carlos asked, totally confused.

Angelique lean into him, whispering "I've no idea,"

They laughed and kept applausing. That was the end of the match and the end of their conversation. Angelique's agent rapidly came to her to take some pictures with the winner.

"Wait, wait," she insisted to her agent and then walked close to Carlos. "It was lovely talking to you, Carlos,"

"Same, Angelique. You seem an interesting person," he complimented. Carlos was willing to ask her for her number, or something.

"Are you coming to the finals tomorrow?" she asked, praying for a yes.

"I don't think so... I have a race soon in China,"

"Oh," she seemed disappointed. "Well, good luck for your race and..."

"Can I asked you for your number?" he said unexpectedly.

"Yes!" she realised that maybe she was too effusive, so she lower her tone. "I mean, yeah, sure. If you want."

Carlos laughed and Angelique did it too, in a more ashamed way. He gave her his phone so she could write her number.

"There you go," she said and her agent was already near her to leave the match. "Text me!"

Carlos laughed and waved at her, when he looked at his phone, he could do anything but laughed again. Angelique saved her as "That cute girl from the tennis match".

He wondered what was about that girl that made her so unique and easy to talk to her. Carlos didn't think about it very much, instead, he texted her right after she left the field.

#carlos sainz #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x oc #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1 one shot #cs55 #cs55 x reader #cs55 fic #cs55 fluff #f1 fluff #f1 x you

209 notes · View notes

creative-caramel-coffee · 2 days

Text

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 3

Summary: Reader meets the team.

Tw: mentions of sickness, teasing

Words: 2.8K

A/n: Thanks for all the support this series has been getting :) If anyone has any suggestions for things that could happen in this series lemme know and I’ll see what I think. No smut though I don’t write that here.

The next day you woke to knocking on the bedroom door. Sitting up in bed you quietly called for whoever it was to enter.

A moment later Wanda poked her head through the door. Seeing you awake or at least semi-awake she slipped through the small space she had created.

“Good morning.” She smiled coming to sit beside you on the bed. “Did you sleep well?” She asked pressed her hand to your forehead.

“Mmm.” You hummed still half asleep.

“You don’t feel warm anymore.” She smiled at this achievement as if she was proud of you. “How are you feeling today?” She asked moving her hands to rest in her lap again.

“Tired, but that’s probably because I just woke up.” You smiled.

“Nat sent me to wake you up. She wanted to know if your well enough to meet the others today.” Wanda explained looking slightly guilty.

“I mean, I’m game if you are. Where’s Nat?” You asked coving a yawn.

“Nat’s training with steve. And not so fast, I want to know more about how you're feeling. No more headache? Cough? Wheezing? Give me something.” She grinned.

“My headaches gone, no more cough, maybe a slight wheeze I’m not too sure.” You begun and Wanda’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of your wheezing. “I’m like ninety-nine percent sure my fever is gone, and I feel pretty good all things aside.” You finished.

“That’s good. Maybe keep your inhaler on you today just in case. And after the meeting I’ll see if I can get Bruce to give us a few spares, just in case.” Wanda said softly.

“You really don’t have to.” You said shyly toying with a loose thread on the sheets.

“Its no problem. I would make me feel better. Breathing is important.” Wanda teased easing your concerns.

“So, when’s the meeting?” You asked.

“Well, I think Nat wanted to do it as soon as possible. Like straight after training and then I’m going to make you some pancakes for brunch.” Wanda said poking your side. “But for now, hop up, get dressed and I’ll be back soon to show you where the meeting room is.” Wanda said, standing up and heading for the door.

Once wanda had left, probably to go and find Nat to call the meeting, you crawled out of bed. Rifling through your backpack you changed out your sleepshirt and shorts for a pair of black track pants and a pale-yellow t-shirt. Throwing on some goofy socks and lacing up your black converse high tops you braided your hair sat in front of the mirror and threw on some deodorant.

Once you were ready and had been to the bathroom to wash your face and go through your morning routine, you sat at peters desk.

Picking up your backpack you went through it until finding what you were looking for.

Pulling out the black sketchbook you opened it to a fresh page and began mindlessly doodling things you could see around peters room and the cityscape beyond the open curtains.

Just as you were getting into the details of the New York skyline you heard a knock on the door.

Lowering your pencil, you sat a little straighter.

“Come in.” You called your voice sounding better than it had in days. And surprisingly good for someone who had spent hours coughing and wheezing for days on end.

Wanda opened the door and smiled seeing you up and about for the first time.

“You look much better.” She commented coming to stand by your shoulder. “Wow, you’re an amazing artist.” She smiled looking at your drawings.

“Oh, um … thanks.” You smiled still a little awkward when it came to compliments. “So, what’s the news?” You asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” Wanda said looking up from where she had been inspecting your sketchbook. “Nat called Fury. He’s kinda the boss. He’s given the go ahead if steve and tony sign off on it. Nat then called a meeting and I’m going to bring you to the room where you're going to meet the team.” She explained.

“I have two questions.” You said.

“Shoot.” Wanda said pulling you up and gesturing to follow her out the door.

“One, is peter going to be at this meeting?” You asked as Wanda lead you down some seemingly endless corridors.

“Yes.” Wanda nodded, pressing the button to call the lift.

“And two, this Fury guy said yes? Just like that?” You asked sounding slightly confused.

“Yes and no.” Wanda begun, stepping onto the lift with you beside her. “Nat asked Jarvis, Tony’s AI assistant to pull up all CCTV footage of spider-man and separate footage based on bio-signatures. So, she could differentiate between when it was peter and when it was you in the suit. She sent Fury the files and after he reviewed them, he approved you a place on the team. If you want it and the others agree.” Wanda explained.

“Okay.” You said slowly. “Seems like a good plan.” You smiled.

And the lift dinged softly as it slowed to a stop.

“This is us.” Wanda said and you followed her out of the open doors. Walking beside her down a hallway she stopped in front of a door and paused to look at you. “You ready?” She asked, her hand on the door handle.

“Yep.” You nodded swollowing down your nerves. “Ready as I’ll even be.”

“You’ll be great. Just be yourself and they’ll love you.” Wanda said and pushed the door open.

Nat was stood at the head of the table, a screen behind her queued up with spider-man videos. She smiled at you and wanda as the rest of the people turned to face you.

Seeing the people you had only ever seen on Tv in real life was a little overwhelming at first but wanda squeezed your hand and lead you into the room to stand at the front with her and Nat.

Peter smiled at you from where he was sat beside Tony. Looking proud of you just for standing in front of the avengers.

You stood there silent for a second simply making eye contact with your shoes before Natasha spoke up.

“This is Y/n.” Nat begun, and you gave a small half wave with an awkward smile. Tony was staring you down with an unreadable expression. He looked like he was analysing your face mentally. Most likely already having connected you to Peter.

“Hi I’m Y/n Parker.” You said lifting your eyes to meet a few smiling faces around the room a fair few of them sporting shocked looks.

“Parker?” Tony echoed sounding smaller than you had ever heard from his times on Tv.

“Y/n Parker is Peters sister.” Wanda explained.

“Kid?” Tony looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me there were two of you?” He asked looking sad.

Peter looked slightly sick at the open disappointment his mentor was showing right now and so you stepped in before peter had a panic attack.

“Mr Stark, Sir, it was my decision to keep myself out of the spotlight. And to do that I needed to maintain a low profile. Which is harder to do when the avengers know of your existence. No offence.” You explained. And the team exchanged a few glances as they noted how you had come to Peter’s aid almost immediately.

“That’s alright, I’m sure Pete will open up now you’re here.” Tony said with a grin as he ruffled Peters hair, “Won’t-cha kiddo?” He asked with his usual charismatic charm and Peter gave a small nod and smile while he ducked his head not liking the attention.

“So, anyone have anymore questions?” You asked drawing the attention off of Peter once more much to your brothers' relief.

Looking away from the small smile he sent you as thanks you laughed, seeing every hand in the room up with a question for you, bar Nat, Peter and Wanda of course.

You looked to your left and nodded to Steve.

“Hi, nice to meet you kid.” Steve said. “I have a question though, if Peter’s identity is secret, why did you need to stay away from us?” He asked looking confused, and his statement drew a few nods around the room.

“If Tony scares you honey, I can assure you that the man would forget his own shoes without me.” Someone you recognised as Pepper Potts said with a smile causing Tony to grumble to himself. How Nat had managed to wrangle the CEO of Stark industries into this meeting you didn’t know.

Little did you know that all it took was ‘There’s something you should know, it has to do with Peter’ and she was on her way.

“Actually,” Wanda said drawing the gaze of the room to her, “This should explain it. Jarvis play the video.” She said and the lights dimmed as the Tv showed a compilation of some of your best moves in the spider-suit.

When the video ended the lights retuned to their normal brightness and everyone still looked confused.

“How exactly does a compilation of Peter doing tricks explain that?” Bruce asked.

“Um…” You said looking slightly nervous. “That was me.” You said in a small voice and the room was silent for a second.

“Sick moves kid. Peter your sister’s awesome.” Sam said and a few people laughed at his perfect comedic timing.

“Prove it.” Tony said and you paled slightly.

“Tony.” Pepper said placing her hand on his arm and shooting him a look.

“No, its ok pepper.” Nat said. “Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling. “Was that peter in the suit for those videos?” She asked.

“The height and weight as well as body stature and proportions do not match Master Parker.” Jarvis said.

“Ok,” Nat continued, “Who do those body descriptors match in this room?” She asked.

“The person in the suit does match the body of Miss Parker.” Jarvis said and Tony frowned.

“Do the sticky thing.” Bucky called drawing a few smiles. You rolled your eyes and put a hand up, splaying your fingers before jumping in the air and touching the ceiling where you stayed stuck.

“Crawl around.” Sam said and you glared at his heckling.

“No.” You said and you saw Peter doing his puppy eyes at you. “Fine.” You sighed.

Jumping up you did a flip and stuck your legs out, now standing on the ceiling upside down and making eye contact with Sam before looking to Bucky.

“Better?” You asked sarcastically.

“Much.” Sam grinned and you rolled your eyes again.

“Ok. Get down Y/n.” Nat said sounding part annoyed part amused at the display.

“Yes ma’am.” You said before detaching from the roof and doing a flip to landing back where you were before.

“Show off.” Peter murmured under his breath and you huffed a small laugh as his ears went red, not having expected you to hear him. Dumb super-hearing.

“Well, now we’re done with the party tricks. What are we thinking?” You asked brushing off invisible dirt from your clothes.

“Well…” Tony said. “I think its time you got your own suit.” He grinned and you smiled back. “What colours do you want kiddo?” He asked.

“Um… maybe something like purple, white and red?” You said and he nodded already sketching down ideas on a pad of paper pepper had brought with her from a meeting.

“You’re also getting an AI.” Tony added and you looked a peter who simply smiled proudly of you.

“Well, if that’s everything Y/n’s also gonna need a room.” Wanda said and Tony nodded.

“There’s a spare room on Natasha and Wanda’s floor if you want to move in with the girls. Do I need to send some movers to grab your things?” Tony asked and you looked at your shoes and shook your head.

“Not much to move.” You mumbled.

“Y/n’s apartment was taken out in the last battle. She’s been hiding out in Peter’s room for now. That’s how we met actually.” Natasha said shooting you a reassuring smile.

“Well, it sounds like I’m going to be funding yet another shopping trip.” Tony sighed and Wanda grinned at you mischievously.

“We’ll make it a girl's day.” Wanda said shooting a look at pepper.

“I’d love to.” Pepper agreed and Nat clapped her hands together.

“Alright then.” The assassin said. “I should probably tell Fury we have another spider on the team.” Nat grinned and you smiled at her.

“Great, now we have three spiders.” Tony said rolling his eyes and ducking as Pepper aimed a pretty good swing to the back of his head.

“Knock it off Tony, don’t act like you're not secretly overjoyed to have another Parker around.” Pepper said.

“Just wondering,” Bruce said looking mildly nervous as the room turned to look at him.

“Yes?” You prompted him to continue.

“Are you…” He begun before pausing, “I guess theres no real nice way to put it.” Bruce said and Tony jumped in.

“I think Brucie-bear wants to know if you come with the Parker Brain Package.” Tony said and Pepper glared at him.

“Tony.” She warned, glaring at him while you cleared your throat.

“If you’re asking about how smart I am, let’s just say I designed the original prototype for the web-shooters and chemical makeup of the fluid.” You said and Tony nodded seemingly satisfied with that small tidbit of information for now.

“Well, if nobody had anything else to say, Wanda and I are going to take Y/n for a tour of the compound.” Nat said before turning to look at Clint. “And you, have to make dinner. You lost our bet.” Nat said and then dragged you and Wanda out of the room by your sleeves.

After a very long and very comprehensive tour by Natasha and Wanda, you were shown back to the communal kitchen where most of the team ate together when they weren’t on missions.

You walked into the dining room attached to the kitchen to be hit with the smell of burnt food pungent in the air.

You looked at Nat confused, and she grinned as she heard cursing coming from the kitchen. Wanda looked like she was itching to go help but sad she pulled away Nat grabbed her sleeve at the very last second to hold her back.

“Can someone explain whats going on for me?” You asked.

“Well, Clint and Natasha can’t cook if their lives depended on it.” Wanda begun, only to shush Nat when she went to speak up. “So naturally they made a bet, loser had to cook the team dinner, naturally Clint lost so Nat is enjoying his public humiliation. And I normally cook if we aren’t getting takeout so it's causing me pain to hear whats going on in there.”

“Oh, calm down. Clints not blowing anything up.” Nat said rolling her eyes as Wanda shot her a look. “Ok that was one time.” Nat amended.

Not twenty minutes later you were sat at a table with the avengers with a plate of very burnt stake and watery mash potatoes.

“What is it?” Tony asked poking his steak.

Clint grinned. “A masterpiece.” He said.

“More like a mistake.” Nat muttered judging her steak while poking it with her knife as if she was expecting it to start moving of its own accord.

“I say we have newbie try it.” Tony posed and you rolled your eyes.

Cutting off a piece of the very tough steak with your knife you raised it to your lips and put it in your mouth.

It was tough and kind of disgusting. But you smiled anyway.

Finding the meat tougher than you had been expecting, you made the switch as you called you fangs up. Your canines sharpened as you chewed managing to decimate the meat. Swallowing you looked at Clint.

“Not the worst thing I’ve every eaten.” You said with a smirk and Tony who had been watching you closely squeaked.

“Jeez kid you didn’t tell me your sister was a vampire.” Tony said turning to Peter.

By this point most of they eyes were on you, so you hid your teeth and retracted the fangs out of embarrassment.

“She’s not. It’s a spider thing she got.” Peter said coming yo your defence.

“Either way her new name is fangs.” Tony said with a grin.

This time you glared at him.

“For the record i think they’re awesome.” Wanda said sensing your embarrassment.

“Seconded.” Nat said her spy training honing in on your body language to see you were insecure about it.

“I gotta admit it’s a cool trick doll.” Bucky said.

“Pretty neat.” Steve agreed with a smile.

“Badass.” Sam nodded flicking a still frozen pea at Bucky. “Alright, now that y/n probably has food poisoning, who wants pizza?” Nat asked with a grin. Cheers came from all sides of the table as Clint slumped dejectedly in his seat.

183 notes · View notes

nicohischierz · 2 days

Text

fast cars: oscar piastri

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!

jack, trevor and cole navigated their way through the paddock in montreal once again. however this time, you were joining them for the weekend.

"wait we're only allowed inside one garage this weekend?" trevor asked as you walked past the motorhomes.

you led the crew towards the mclaren motorhome as the three boys took in their surroundings. this was not what they experienced last time they were here.

this all happened when your teammate mentioned being at the race with his friends, you mentioned also going and managed to pull some strings into getting passes.

"trev, we're lucky we're allowed inside a garage," cole muttered.

you halted before the garage and turned to all three guys. "rules for the weekend. no switching teams, if you don't want to wear papaya then wear a different colour. be respectful to the drivers and their cars, think of them as if someone's trying to touch your sticks before a game".

the boys thought you were done and were about to enter the garage when you stopped them one last time. "and finally, have fun this weekend," you concluded.

the three hockey players gave each other confused looks before following after you.

one of the mechanics noticed you first and waved before gesturing to where your boyfriend was. you smiled, thanked them and headed off in the direction they pointed at.

jack, trevor and cole waited at the back as they saw you approach lando and oscar. the first three were confused as to how settled you felt in the environment.

"do you think she works here over the summers?" trevor asked. jack side-eyed his best friend before rolling his eyes. "that wouldn't make sense z cause then how does she train," he answered, playing along.

trevor nodded in understanding before watching as lando came over to give you a hug. "I bet she's dating that one," jack pointed to the standing brit.

cole and trevor scoffed. "what makes you think that?" cole asked.

"how else would she get these amazing tickets," jack pointed out in a duh tone.

the three boys argued over who you could be dating as you caught up with lando. they shut up quickly when they noticed you walking over to them.

"jack, trevor and cole, this is lando norris. lando this is my teammate jack and his friends trevor and cole," you introduced them.

the boys shook hands with each other and started with a small conversation when a pair of hands wrapped around your waist and lifted you up.

you shrieked before turning around to hug your boyfriend. oscar wasted no time in placing his lips on yours in a soft kiss before resting his forehead on yours.

"i have missed you so much," he muttered.

you nodded "i missed you to osc,"

the two of you were made aware of your fellow companions when lando began clearing his throat. "I definitely did not miss that," he grumbled.

you stuck your tongue at him and turned to your other friends. "oscar this is my teammate jack and his friends cole and trevor. guys, this is my boyfriend oscar,"

“does that mean all your trips to europe have been for him?” jack asked.

you nodded and leaned into your boyfriend. “oscar and i barely get to see each other with our conflicting schedules so when he’s on break he’s been down to see our game and when i’m off i go see his races,” you explained.

jack nodded and then gasped. “is that why you didn’t want to host thanksgiving! it wasn’t cause you were sick it’s cause you were holed with your boyfriend!” he exclaimed.

you blushed and nodded as oscar kissed your head.

“i’ve got to go love but i’ll see you and the guys for dinner with logan and lando,” oscar bid farewell.

“i cant believe you’re dating a racing driver,” trevor mumbled. you smiled at the boy, turning to watch as oscar drove onto the track.

#oscar piastri imagine #f1 imagine #nhl imagine #f1 x reader #oscar piastri x reader #nicohischierz writes

153 notes · View notes

burntheedges · 2 days

Text

600 Followers Celebration

Y’all!! This is wild. I realized the other day that I started writing my first fic in my notes app on my phone on 4/11/23. I posted the first chapter of that fic in July last year! I am so grateful for each and every one of you. I get so emotional every time someone reads one of my fics. Thank you for being here and being amazing. And I’m so glad you all like fandom bingo (which is still open)!! 🧡🧡🧡

I wanted to do something fun to celebrate. There are two parts -- vote and ask! I'll tag every post for this celebration with #bte600.

💗 VOTE: vote on the poll under the cut!! A week or so ago I did an ask game where people sent me made up fic titles and I told you what I would write for them. Well, I got a little carried away and came up with some ideas I'm actually pretty excited about. So now I want you to vote on which one I should actually write next! The poll will be open for a week.

🧡 ASK: Send me any of the emojis below – send me as many as you’d like! But please send one at a time.

❣️shout out Spread the love around and tell me about a fic, author, fan art, or artist on here that you love!

📜fic rec Give me a fandom and a direction and I’ll give you a fic rec. I’ve got more than 9000 bookmarks on ao3 lol bet I can find something! let me know preferences about ships, ratings, content, etc.

(fandoms I’ve read a lot in over the years: all the Pedro boys, Inception (Arthur/Eames), Captive Prince, LOTR/Hobbit, MCU, X-Men, 00Q, Star Trek (various ships), Mass Effect, The Raven Cycle (pynch), Teen Wolf (lol), Stranger Things, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Check Please!, The Witcher, The Sandman, Sherlock, Stargate Atlantis, RWRB, Merlin, ATLA… and more?)

❓question Send me any question, FMK, ask about a headcanon, ask about one of my fics, how I write, ask for commentary on a scene or line, whatever you’d like – I’ll answer it!

Remember, 💗 vote on the poll under the cut!!

Let's vote! Which one of these ideas should I work on next? (see more about each at the link) I had to cut one so I cut one of the Frankie ones that was very similar to something I just wrote.

🧡🧡🧡 thanks for being here!

tagging some mutuals for funzies:

@katareyoudrilling @beardedjoel @maggiemayhemnj @goodwithcheese @djarins-cyare

@jupiter-soups @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @morallyinept @trulybetty

@gasolinerainbowpuddles @huffle-punk @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jay-zzle @sheepdogchick3

@joelsgreys @davnittbraes @ghotifishreads @iknowisoundcrazy @jobean12-blog

@punkette1026 @macfrog @skittlesfics @morning-star-joy @futuraa-free

@sempersirens @theywhowriteandknowthings @pr0ximamidnight @janaispunk @toxicanonymity

@chronically-ghosted @beefrobeefcal @ladamedusoif @ilovepedro @javierpena-inatacvest

@kiwisbell @iamasaddie @mrsmando @corazondebeskar @minimeiser

@mermaidgirl30 @kedsandtubesocks @covetyou @nedgooel @wildemaven

@secretelephanttattoo @theclairvoyage @sawymredfox @julesonrecord

...

#followers celebration #i love y'all #joel miller x reader #frankie morales x reader #marcus pike x reader #javier peña x reader #din djarin x reader #marcus moreno x reader #dieter bravo x reader #ask me anything #bte600

168 notes · View notes

mxtantrights · 2 days

Note

Hi! Can i ask some quick enemies to lovers with Jason Todd? Which is not much "enemies" but two prideful people that won't admit they have feelings for each other and they like... have similar personalities. It can be sfw or nsfw, it's up to you <3

Byee, thanks.

(Maybe reader also being a vigilante too hehe)

a/n: thank you for this amazing request. I was about to have so much fun with this!!! (also kinda left it open so if there is a desire for part two, just leave me a message!! <3)

It doesn't hit either of you like a brick wall or a train like it should. No. Because why would it? Love doesn't hit you over the head in the middle of the night. It happens slowly.

It happens when Oliver asks you to cut home early because you almost missed a step and went over the rooftop of a building. Which you deny but you know it happened because Oliver is never really one to say 'go home'. So you take his orders. Oliver shakes his head as he watches you go. Ever since he told you that some of the team from Gotham was coming to Star City to help a case you've ben off your game.

It happens when Jason doesn't see the trip wire. Dick has about seven seconds to clear the room and drag Jason with him. The two of them get safely away from the loud bomb. Bruce is talking over the comms, asking if everything is alright. Jason grumbles out some sort of response. Dick knows he's not on his A-game because he's part of the crew going to Star City, where you operate.

It happens when you come face to face with Red hood after not seeing him for a few months. The last time you saw him he saved you from a round of gunfire. You couldn't figure out if he saved you because it was the right thing to do or for some other reason.

It happens when the two of you have to guard a safe house for a couple of hours. There is nothing to do. It's mindless boredom. It's endless. It's so boring and Red doesn't make it easier because he doesn't try to converse with you either. You try to make small talk but he seems to talk in grunts or just silence.

It happens when the mission goes wrong. The informant is nipped on someone else's patrol. You and Red are called in to figure out who did it and to track their every move. You spend about eight hours by his side and say about ten words to him.

It happens when you two find the culprit and are faced with a difficult decision. Take justice into your own hands or hand them over to the Oliver and Bruce. Red leaves it up to you.

And for some odd reason, that's when you realize it. At that moment it dawns on you. Like the final crumb of sand falling in a hourglass. You like Red. You like him even if he doesn't speak a word to you, or if you fail and fumble in front of him.

You try your best to keep it to yourself.

But it's hard to do that when he seems, different.

After that night when he left the choice up to you, he seems to be another version of himself. A version you didn't know existed. He greets you, he tries to make small talk, and he gives you compliments and praise.

Oliver and Bruce notice it too. They keep their smiles and shit eating grins to themselves. Honestly the two of them honestly make this a thing amongst themselves. Who can get the ball rolling first?

Bruce asks Jason about it one night after patrol. To which Jason replies with a stern 'no' and nothing else. Oliver asks you when he takes you out for lunch and you also tell him a simple 'no' and move on.

It keeps happening like this. Red does something that makes you think maybe, sort of, possibly. But you don't take that step. And Red goes through the same thing about you. And talks himself out of telling you anything.

One day though, it does come to an end.

You're in an alley in Gotham. You're not on a mission. You're just a civilian in this situation. A civilian who wants to take an alleyway cut instead of walking two blocks. It's safe to say that when you get held up at gun point you regret not walking those two simple blocks.

What goes down, goes down fast. You manage to get the jump on two of the scumbags. But one of them does have a gun. They aim it right at you and the shot should hit you but it doesn't. It doesn't because of someone.

Red hood stands between you and the gun. The bullet flies off his patted amor chest. You watch as all the guys in the alleyway scurry like rats. You're left there, wide eyed and shocked.

Red Hood turns to you and offers you a hand up. You take it, and try to think of something to say. Anything. A thank you. A sorry. Something that should leave your mouth. But all you can think about is how he's saved your life again.

And that's the word you say. 'again'

It catches him off guard. So much so that he takes a step back. You think you might've said the wrong thing. But then again, you think to yourself that he won't really know what you're talking about. You're seeing him as a civilian. He's never seen you as a civilian. He doesn't know who you are.

But he could now.

He could now.

#dc x reader #dc imagine #dc blurbs #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd blurb #Jason todd imagine #dc #Jason todd

133 notes · View notes

violetsiren90 · 2 days

Text

The Light of Your Eyes

Pairing: best friend's younger brother!Changbin x f!Reader

Genre: one-shot; friends to lovers; smut and fluff; hurt/comfort

Summary: Can the gentle touch of an unexpected pair of hands on your body heal the wounds of your soul?

Content warnings: 18+ (minors, dni), age gap romance (consenting adults); mentions of break-up and unhealthy past relationship dynamics; depression and anxiety symptoms (mild); MC has self esteem struggles, some are body-image related; the ex was low-key emotionally abusive tbh 😒; depictions of alcohol consumption (no drunkenness); depictions of food and eating (MC has a moment of negative thought patterns in regards to food consumption); gaming/watching movies; emotional breakdowns; kissing (so much kissing, guys); Fluffy fluffy FLUFF 💕; making out; interrupted shenanigans; cuddling; shirtless Binnie 👀; strong and gentle Binnie 🥺💘 ; working through FEELINGS 😅 ; breast play; nudity; oral sex (f. receiving); feedbag position; confessions and new beginnings.

Word Count: ~9300

Author's Note: Well, here it is - my first Binnie fic! I wanted to make it as sweet and sexy as he is...which, I know, is impossible, so I gave it my best shot! Hopefully, it's something worthy of his face-claim. I'm not going to make any judgements as to whether I feel it fits the bill, but rather like the man himself, tell you to be the judge of your own opinions! Jutdae!! 😂💗 But in all seriousness, if you decide to read this story, thank you! I hope it brings you something warm and fuzzy!

*The poem at the beginning is an original, and is what inspired this story!

Acknowledgements: I cannot thank @moni-logues enough for beta reading this for me, and for all her hype and humor and general human decency - this story wouldn't be what it is without her! 💖

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

the

Bright color of my laughter and the

Melody of the curve of my hips and the

Soft velvet of my irises

seemed

To have taken their first breath,

Opening gently - like flowers perfuming my soul

- When bathed in the light of your eyes.

"Changbin? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he says with a little smirk, whipping a dish towel over his shoulder as he shuffles back to let you in.

Fair enough, you suppose. You are showing up without notice. Not that you ever need to give his sister any notice - as your best friend, there's a key with all the others in your purse that unlocks the door you're closing behind you. You wouldn't have even knocked had his car not been parked in the driveway.

"Where's Nari?" you ask, glancing at the gaming console hooked up to the massive flat-screen, and a bullet blender cup half filled with something thick, pale and probably protein-packed sitting on the coffee table.

"She went out of town for the weekend," he calls, heading back toward the dining area. "Last minute work thing."

Damn.

Your apartment is boring and barren and lonely. You wanted to hang out. You've been coming around more than usual – almost as often as when you were in grad school together. But Nari had her own life, you understood. You had your own life too.

And then three months ago, on New Years Eve, your long-term boyfriend called it quits. It wasn't as if you were heartbroken. Not really. The relationship had been sick and slowly dying. But returning to a life lived in solitude was proving a difficult adjustment – especially navigating the new and constant stillness which left you the mental space and dexterity to run up against the shadows of wounds unhealed. And you didn't feel like growing into your EQ. You felt like distracting yourself. So you ended up at your bestie's place more often than not, these days.

You sigh, trailing toward the kitchen. You won't stay long - if her younger brother is house sitting, he'll probably have people coming over. It's Friday night, after all, and he's twenty-four years young.

The sound of running water, and music from a little speaker playing a catchy beat laced with fast-paced rap draws you into the warmly-lit, open kitchen. You recognize the voice on the track.

"This new?" you ask, dropping your bag on a barstool and rounding the island to where Changbin is up to his elbows in suds at the sink. He's in a black band tee and bright blue joggers, his curly dark hair unstyled.

He looks over his shoulder and nods.

"What do you think? Wait, no, lemme start it over..."

You smile to yourself as he hastily dries his hands and whips out his phone, pulling the track back to the beginning. He braces himself against the edge of the sink, gnawing on his bottom lip as he bobs his head with the lyrical punches and runs.

You smile to yourself, leaning your back against the counter beside him.

"This is good, Bin," you nod earnestly.

"Yeah?" he asks, returning to his soapy task.

"It really is. Hyunjin's pretty damn fast. Not as fast as you, but who is?"

You grin, bumping your hip into his side.

He smirks down into the bubbles.

He's wanted to make music for as long as you've known him, and even fifteen years ago he could spit out a diss track that would have you wetting yourself laughing. He and his buddy, Hyunjin, met in high school and started messing around with music senior year. They committed to the dream, and both worked full-time gigs - Hyunjin as a tattoo artist and Changbin as a personal trainer - while promoting their artistry in their spare time. Production was a tough road to take when they were counting on nothing but raw talent and guts, but you'd always been an unflinching supporter.

"We've got a gig next Saturday...at The Eight Ball," he remarks, looking over at you as a proud smile presses a tiny dimple into his bread cheek.

"What?!" you squeal, turning to smack him on the arm. "Dude, that's fantastic! Oh my god, congratulations!"

"Thanks, and ouch!" he replies, rubbing his arm with a pout that you ignore. It couldn't possibly have hurt him, not with those biceps.

He moves to the fridge, a grin still plastered on his face.

"You should come!" he urges over his shoulder as he appraises his sister's stash before grabbing an energy drink. "I know the boyfriend isn't into rap, but you could come with Nari..."

You scoff softly.

"Doesn't really matter what he likes anymore," you mumble bitterly.

Changbin freezes as he's about to crack open the beverage in his hand.

"Wait, what? Did you guys...is that over?"

You purse your lips and nod. Changbin looks completely taken off guard in a way that surprises you.

“When did that happen?”

You reach back to clutch at the cold tile of the countertop.

“Beginning of the year.”

He scratches his head.

“Nari didn’t…why didn’t you say something?”

You shrug, your eyes falling. For reasons you'd never considered, you’d rarely brought your ex around or even brought him up to Changbin.

He turns to the still open fridge and swaps out his energy drink for two beers, opening both and sliding one across the island between you.

"How you holding up?" he asks in earnest concern, a little furrow appearing between his dark brows.

You want to tell him that you're fine - it's what you've been telling everyone else - but from the way he holds your gaze before letting his eyes search your face, he's looking for a real answer. You pull your lip between your teeth. You're not ready to form the words that spell the truth. He sees it.

"Ah," he waves dismissively, "Fuck that guy. You're too good for him anyway. What an idiot."

You blink, a little smirk tugging at your lips.

"You don't have to hate on him just because we're-"

"I'm hating on him because I hate him," he stares at you unflinchingly, taking another swig of his beer. "He wasn't good to you, didn't make you happy. I'm glad he's gone. Seriously, fuck him."

You didn't expect that sort of reaction out of Changbin. Not that you expected anything, but the strong, certain tone he took in regards to your ex's unworthiness has a tiny little warmth glowing in your chest. It was like him to feel strongly and take a stand, but to have his conviction aimed at you...

"Thanks, Bin," you murmur softly, hiding your smile behind your beer.

The young man nods, and his lips part as if to speak when his phone buzzes in his pocket. As he answers the call - clearly, from the nature of his greeting, one of his buddies - you're reminded that you’re trespassing on his Friday night. Draining your beer, you grab your bag and slip out of the kitchen.

You huff a little sigh as you pull on your shoes, lingering listlessly for a moment before pulling open the door. The thought of going home has your stomach churning. You can't go back and be alone there.

You can't.

You have to.

How pathetic could you possibly get? you consider sickly, staring out into the darkness. Your self-loathing and mounting anxiety battle for dominance as you will yourself to take the step over the threshold that will carry you to your car…

Click.

The door swishes shut, and you blink in confusion before you note a bulky arm stretched over your shoulder, hand pressed to the wooden frame below the peephole.

You turn into Changbin's frame and he jostles backwards, hand dropping to your shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks, a little smirk playing on his lips.

You try to get your bearings as you resurface from the flash flood of inner turmoil, blinking up at him in confusion.

"Uuhh...home?" you answer, jerking a thumb back toward your intended exit.

Changbin shakes his head.

"You just got here."

"Well...I came to see Nari but she's gone, so..."

When the faintest shadow of hurt seems to flicker over his features at your words, you stammer to clarify.

"Bin, it's Friday, I- you've got plans, right? I don't want to be in the way...Like, it's really nice seeing you don't get me wrong, but, it would suck to have one of your sister's random friends underfoot if you're...if..."

You trail off. He's watching you in amusement now, arms crossed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth, one eyebrow cocked just a little higher than the other.

"What?" you press him, now a bit self-conscious at your rambling and still on edge from the surging anxiety of moments ago.

Damn, what was with you? You'd been a mess lately, and now you couldn't even get your words out with Nari's kid brother?

"I do have plans."

Changbin's words interrupt your muddled self-assessment. You glance up at him.

What? Okay, that's what you had been trying to...

"I plan to kick your ass at Super Smash Bros Brawl," he quips, turning to round the couch and settle in front of it before reaching for the blue controller discarded on the coffee table.

Huh?

You watch him start up the game and move through selections. Shuffling toward the back of the couch, you place your hands on it. He wants to hang out? Now that he found out you'd been dumped. Nari's away, so he's falling into stride, you think to yourself. You sigh. You should be grateful. Instead, you feel like a burden.

"Um, Bin..." you murmur, "You don't have to do this..."

"Do what?" he asks without looking back. "I'm not going easy on you, if that's what you mean. And I'm using Kirby - nonnegotiable."

Your heart melts a little as your eyes rest on him. He's always been a good guy, and it was like him to do this sort of thing - look out for someone when they were feeling low. Leaving simply because you don't feel worthy of his care and attention risks hurting him more than you.

You slowly slip out of your shoes and cross into the living room, retrieving a red controller from atop the console before sinking onto the carpet beside him. You toggle through your choices before landing on Link. Changbin glances over at you disparagingly.

"Link sucks."

"Kirby sucks."

"Hey!" Changbin, practically shouts in your ear, "Don't insult my widdle cutie guy..."

You grimace theatrically at the baby talk.

"Don't ever do that again."

"Or what?" Changbin challenges as he immediately unleashes a combo move that has your character hurtling toward the edge of the battle stage.

You hop around, avoiding him and trying out different button combos. It's been forever since you played this game. Your ex had been a Halo enthusiast. You were never big on first person shooters, but you tried to get into it for his sake. He hadn't the patience to help you learn, though, and after a couple of sessions of grimaces and apologies on your behalf mumbled into his headset, he'd stopped taking you up on your offers to join him.

Kirby darts back and forth across the screen after you on stubby pink legs. Eventually you get the hang of things and are returning his attacks, though he easily bests you in an embarrassingly short sequence of moves.

"Sorry, I'm no good at video games," you mumble apologetically.

The smug look falls from Changbin's face.

"Why are you sorry?" he raises a brow, dropping his controller into his lap, a little smile still playing on his lips.

You shrug. His smile fades.

"Who says you're no good?"

Shit.

You shift your focus to the screen and toggle for a new character.

"Best two out of three."

You can feel his eyes still on you as you opt for Princess Peach.

Two out of three turns into five out of eight, and around eleven out of twenty, the doorbell rings. When Changbin turns in surprise toward the sound, you take the opportunity to deliver a critical blow, winning your first match of the night. He rolls his eyes as you giggle wickedly and moves to answer the door.

You pull your phone from your pocket reflexively to check the socials you've deleted, before sighing and tossing it across the room to land on the carpet with a thud.

"Did you just throw your phone?"

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch him shooting you a quizzical look over a stack of pizza boxes tall enough to feed a small army. Clambering to your feet you trail after him into the kitchen.

"You do have plans, you liar!" you elbow him as he opens the top box and pulls out a slice, hissing as the melted cheesy overflow burns the tips of his fingers.

"Ow!" he snaps up a napkin and cradles it under the steaming piece of pizza, shaking his other hand before holding up his fingers in front of you.

"Blow on 'em," he whines.

You raise your eyebrows.

"You're joking."

He pouts and you want to laugh. This big, grown man is seriously going to give you the lip right now?

"That's what you get for having no patience, Bin..." you tsk disapprovingly.

He lets out a little disappointed sigh.

"Meanie..." he grumbles, and lets his hand fall.

You return your focus to the obscene amount of food now stacked on Nari's kitchen table.

"So, I'm sure people are going to start showing up, so I'm just gonna..."

Changbin hands you a paper plate with two slices of pizza and heads to the fridge where he fishes out two more beers. You stare at the plate in your hand.

"I...Bin..."

"What, you don't like sweet potato?" he asks with a smirk, cracking open a can and handing it to you.

You blink at him in confusion.

"Please enjoy this meal compliments of Han Jisung, who never remembers to update the address on his delivery app. Now, load up on pizza and let’s get back to it because I'm not trying to let you act like you came out on top from winning that last match on a fluke."

You scoff at his last remark. Watching him pile several slices onto his plate, you take a bite of yours. It tastes good, and you realize as it hits your stomach that you haven't eaten all day. When was the last time you ate a real meal? When was the last time you wanted one?

"Noona?"

Changbin's voice makes you realize you had zoned out and when you blink up at him, there's just nine inches of disposable dinnerware between you. His lips are pursed and his eyes trace your features, their gaze gentle but searching.

"You alright?" he asks.

There it is again; the concern. He isn't just checking in. His voice is soft and low, like his eyes. As a rule, Changbin's voice is strong, resonant - saying everything from his chest without even trying. So when he's gentle, when he pulls himself back...

"Do you miss that guy?" he murmurs.

"No!"

You say it so quickly.

Changbin nods.

"I'm just..." Fuck, why are you suddenly so emotional? "I think I'm...adjusting. Y'know?"

He nods again slowly. Then he reaches up and touches your face, dragging his thumb over the side of your mouth and suddenly your brain waves flat-line. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but before you can even process what's happening, he drops his hand to swipe it on a napkin.

"Had sauce on your face," he mumbles, and you can't read his.

His mouth is tugged up in a small smile but somehow it looks sad, and his eyes look like they're still asking a question that was never really answered. Before you can consider any further, he picks up his plate and heads back toward the living room.

You follow him, still half in your head.

When you sit down next to him, there's something hanging unspoken in the foot and a half of space between your bodies. Something has shifted, gone taut.

Shit, had you made him uncomfortable? Why had you stared at him like a weirdo when he...wait, he touched you...

Your eyes shift over to where he sits beside you. He runs a hand through the wavy hair over his ear. Has he always been so beautiful? He turns quick enough to catch you staring and you put your plate out of your lap. The pizza smells so good but suddenly you can't touch it.

Changbin initiates another round, which you lose in record time. Your stomach grumbles.

"You better eat if you're going to have any hope of beating me again," he goads, finishing off his third slice to abandon the crust with the others on his plate before launching another game.

"I had enough," you deflect, pushing your plate toward him.

"You took two bites."

"I need to cut back."

"Like...go on a diet?"

"Yeah."

His brows furrow and his tongue slips between his lips as he sends Kirby into a hammer flip that lands as a critical hit and you wince.

"What have you eaten today?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I...I don't know. I..."

Your stomach twists. The hunger is there, but so is the anxiety. The fear of being judged for eating too much or too quickly or...

The game pauses. Your plate slides back toward you over the carpet.

"The rest of that piece. Or whatever else you want. But something."

His voice is gentle but firm. You sigh.

"Fine," you murmur, grabbing the half-eaten slice.

You take a bite, and slowly raise your eyes to his as they regard you patiently.

"Sorry," you mumble, covering your mouth, shifting away from him.

"Why now?"

"I make gross noises when I eat."

"What? No you d-"

A hand tugs at your elbow. When you look back toward him his handsome face holds so many things, and you watch as they take turns seizing his features. Horror...pity...anger.

"Who told you that?" he asks lowly, but it doesn't sound like a question. "Noona..."

He squeezes your elbow.

You feel everything you've been shoving down in your chest begin to well up.

Fuck, no!

Your lip trembles.

He's shifting to face you.

You shake your head and press your eyes shut.

Your hand is encompassed in a larger one.

"It's lies, all of it," Changbin whispers with desperate conviction...and your dam breaks.

He pulls you into his arms as you sob with abandon. One of his hands encircles your waist tugging you against his broad, warm chest, and the other slips to brush tenderly over your nape as you tuck your face into his neck.

"He's a liar...shhhh...he's a lying piece of shit," he insists earnestly, into your hair. "You're perfect. He's the one who needs to fix himself. You're so, so perfect."

Perfect? You let your heart hold the word in its palm for one precious moment before pushing it away. Your heart had never been one to accept gifts it didn't think it deserved.

You weep and weep in his strong arms until you run out of tears, and then he holds you while you breathe. As the catharsis of your breakdown begins to settle in, you wonder at the comedown - a softer, warmer one than you've ever known – and you consider the loveliness that has broken your fall.

Soft and firm, everywhere he touches you. And warm. So warm. Not just the heat radiating from his body like a furnace – the velvet rasp of his voice, the absolute and unfaltering nature of his embrace.

Your hands move tentatively against his back. Soft cotton stretches and bunches between your fingers over his sturdy frame. Where your face is pressed to his collar every breath draws in a comforting combination of detergent and cologne. When you close your eyes and sigh, letting your weight sink against him further, you feel his arms tighten in response.

"Sorry," you croak feebly.

"Stop," he implores you, "Every time you apologize, I want to sock that guy in the face."

"I...I'm so stupid, I didn't even really realize..."

"No," his arms squeeze you again, "He had your trust. It was his job to protect you."

�� Protected. That's how you feel right now. Safe. So, so safe. Letting him hold you and reassure you felt good...it felt right. But yet again, the voice in your mind that liked to remind you how much of a burden you always were speaks up in a sickly whisper.

You pull yourself slowly from his arms and off his lap. Drawing yourself up to stand, you wipe your hot cheeks, puffy red eyes finding his like the needle of a compass. Unprepared for what awaits you in his gaze, your knees nearly give out beneath you.

Changbin is looking up from where he kneels before you, the yearning in his eyes unchecked as they burn with an unasked question and an unspoken promise.

"I should go," you whisper, barely able to form the words.

"Don't," he says, standing.

"If I stay I'll just wreck your night," you mumble.

"You could never," he insists, lips tugging into a little smile. His eyes are still pleading.

"Changbin..." you breathe, suddenly drowning again in the fizzy serotonin his words ignite in your chest. "You don't want..."

"You let me be the judge of what I want."

His hands find your arms and he pulls you in. There are centimeters between you. His eyes rest on your lips. Your heart hammers in your ears as your brain begins to malfunction the way it had when he touched your face...

"D-do I have something on my-"

Mouth? His.

The whole of your being floods with something beautiful and ineffable at the touch of his lips and no voice, no doubt, no force in the world could be stronger than the one that pulls you into him. Your arms fly up to wrap around his neck and tug yourself impossibly closer. His hands drop to your waist, pressing desperately in kind, and your bodies mold together. You flush with heat, sparks igniting in your belly and skittering through your veins as his lips move against yours. He stumbles back, pulling you with him as his knees buckle at the edge of the couch, and your body spills over his lap.

Your fingers card into his hair.

His hands drop to the back of your hips.

Your tongue brushes his bottom lip.

He moans.

At the gorgeous, deep sound from his chest, you pull back, fighting the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth. What the fuck is happening right now? You don't get much time to consider as his head falls against the backrest and his eyes flutter open.

"Sorry," he grins bashfully. The tips of his ears burn pink.

"Now who's apologizing for no reason?" you tease, pressing your hands to his chest.

He smiles so sweetly in return you feel you might physically melt. And then the smile fades and the lids of his eyes grow heavy and he leans up to claim your mouth.

His lips taste the same as a moment ago, but their press is slower, hungrier. His hands are powerful and assertive as they hook under your thighs and pull your hips flush against his own in a single tug. You gasp softly against his lips and you feel his smirk. You feel his smirk and something else - something beginning to press up into your ass through your jeans.

Licking into his mouth, you push down, grinding your hips over his in a slow, deliberate undulation. The groan that falls from his lips unlocks something inside of you that needs to know every sound he makes and how to elicit them. Your mouth drops to his neck.

Suddenly, he's gripping your waist and pivoting to lay you on the cushions, slotting himself between your legs. You're still dizzy from the sudden rush of movement, when your legs curl around his hips and over his ass and–

A loud buzzing from the coffee table has you mourning the press of Changbin's lips to your throat as he glances at the caller ID.

"Shit!" he scrambles to sit up, hand still gripping your thigh above your knee when he presses the phone to his ear.

"Hey," he runs a hand through his hair. "What? Nothing. No, I didn't forget. I will, I will."

You recognize his tone of voice. There could only be one person on the other end of the line. You sit up, your head beginning to clear as the reality of the situation washes over you.

"Okay, yeah. Yeah, yeah. Be safe. Love you."

Changbin presses the end-call button and tosses the phone onto the cushion beside him. He leans back against the couch and claps his hand against your leg with a sigh.

"She really knows how to wreck a moment for me."

You crack a wry smile.

"I mean, it's probably for the best that we don't desecrate your sister's couch."

His eyes widen as horror, disgust, and amusement wage war across his features. You burst into a fit of giggles. He feigns a gag. You laugh so hard that you snort.

"S-sorry," you clap your hand over your mouth, still tittering while your ears heat in embarrassment.

Changbin's face softens again. He reaches for your hand and pulls it from your face, threading his fingers through yours.

"Cut it out."

"What? I can't be embarrassed about snorting like a pig?"

"No. It's cute," he smirks.

"It is not!"

"Mhm. Everything you do is cute."

He glances over at you, a lopsided smirk on his perfect lips, his eyes sparkling. He means it.

You fluster, gaze dropping to your enjoined hands, and concentrate on tracing little patterns on the back of his with your thumb. He sighs.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

The request takes you by surprise and your heart squeezes. If it was any other guy, the night would have been over. For the fourth time tonight, you had been about to head for the door, and for the fourth time, Changbin makes you feel wanted. So you stay.

You grab a big, fluffy blanket from the basket in Nari's room, and when you return, Changbin has the lights dimmed and Your Name ready to go on the TV. You smile as you settle in beside him, tossing half the blanket over his widespread legs.

"We don't have to watch this just because it's my favorite, you know," you insist, but he shakes his head.

"Taki's ma' boy," he smirks, shooting you a glance as he presses play on the remote.

You're not quite sure what it means, but you feel your heart skip a beat just the same.

You love this movie. You love that you've seen it enough times that you can talk through it. You love that Changbin is more than willing to talk over the film himself. You're not certain when it happened, but by halfway through the movie his arm is stretched out behind your shoulders and your head rests on his bicep.

"Do you remember seeing this together in the theater?" he asks suddenly, tilting his head toward yours.

You grin.

"You cried and Nari gave you shit about it," you recall.

"You bailed me out. Told her all the sniffling was you. Never even teased me about it either."

Changbin smiles down at you, his eyes sentimental.

Butterflies flutter their delicate wings in your ribcage. How does he make you feel this way?

Your eyes dip to his lips for a moment. Sighing, you nuzzle into his shoulder, hiding your face as much as seeking his warmth. His arm slips off the back of the couch to curl around your shoulders and pull you into his side. The movie plays on.

When the credits roll, Changbin stretches and yawns, and watching him it dawns on you that, working at a fitness center, he's an especially early riser.

"We should call it a night," you offer, standing and stretching yourself, but you're tugged back down into Changbin's lap, yelping as you topple onto him.

His arms encircle your hips as he regards you with a sleepy grin.

"What, do I live here now?" you tease.

"Stay the night," he urges, tightening his arms around you. "You really want to drive back now?"

You chew your lip, eyes tracing over his face. This is all more than a bit unreal, and you haven't given yourself even one second to process what's happening, lest you utterly panic. All you know right now is that your little ship had been sinking and he had hauled you into a lifeboat. Everything outside of him seems like a raging sea.

You nod.

"Okay," you whisper, combing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll stay.”

His eyes dip shut at your touch and the butterflies flutter gently once more.

A few minutes later, you take Nari's room and slip into a pair of her cotton shorts, which do basically nothing to contain your ass, and tug on a plain white tee that stretches snugly over your torso. How a big guy like Changbin could have emerged from the same genetic pool as his teeny tiny sister was beyond you. As you glance in the mirror, your heart sinks. You don't like how the tight fit is pressing you out everywhere you're most self-conscious. But, they are just pajamas, and they're all you have at your disposal.

As you're about to head into the master bathroom to finish your nightly routine, you remember that the toothbrush and toiletries you keep on hand at Nari's are in the little half-bath attached to the guest room. You groan, glancing at yourself again in the mirror, and pull a blanket around yourself before crossing the hall.

Hoping Changbin hasn’t yet fallen asleep, you knock hesitantly on the door. You hear the bed creak before the door opens to reveal a head of mussed hair and hands scrubbing over bleary eyes. But it's not what you notice. Your apology for rousing him dies on your lips as your eyes glue themselves to his bare chest. Blinking dumbly, your eyes climb from his soft stomach subtly rippling with the presence of strong abdominals up to a pair of impressive pecs with wide-set, dusky nipples. His flannel pajama pants settle at his hips, accentuating how his body broadens as it rises from his waist to his full chest and wide shoulders flanked by bulging biceps. Thick. He's so fucking thick you could bi-

"...Noona?" he rumbles, his voice husky from sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing...sorry..." you rush out, ripping your gaze up to his. "My toothbrush is in your room – I mean! in your bathroom. That's where I usually stay, so...but I didn't think you'd be asleep. Sorry, I can just..."

He rubs over one of his eyes with his palm as he steps aside.

"You can grab it."

Right. You shuffle in awkwardly, trying not to step on the blanket dragging around your feet. As you cross the dark room, you try not to dwell on the rumpled sheets of the bed that speak of his body having lain between them, or the soft smell of his cologne hanging in the air. You quickly retrieve the little toiletry bag and, as you move to squeeze past Changbin at the door, he eyes the fluffy shroud you're clutching to your chest.

He raises a sleepy eyebrow.

"I'm sure Nari has pants you could..."

"I'm wearing pants!" you bluster, "They just...don't fit."

You move out of the doorway to make your way back to your room, but a hand cups the side of your face and turns it as soft lips meet your forehead.

"Good night, noona," he murmurs with a little smile before retreating back into his room.

You stand in the hall, staring at his door, the butterflies absolutely aflurry.

Despite your best efforts, you can't sleep. Your mind is full of the last five hours. Full of Changbin.

He had kissed you. You had kissed him back. And it had felt...

You roll from your side to your back, sighing up at the dark ceiling. You chew on your lip as you remember breaking down and his arms around you. You would usually feel regretful and ashamed after baring yourself like that to someone. You despised moments of weakness. But you couldn't bring yourself to hate the moments in his arms. You didn't regret them. In fact, you wanted him to hold you again. You wanted to feel vulnerable in his hands, and you wanted him to keep you safe.

You feel heat rush up from your neck as you recognize these feelings.

You must be absolutely shameless, you conclude in wonder. You should be freaking out right now - this was Changbin, for Christ's sake – Nari's brother! You should be wondering what happens next, and what all of it means...but even so you can’t bring yourself to care. All your mind can focus on is how his arms felt like waking up after a nightmare to song birds and soft sunlight.

After an hour or so of tossing and turning, the salty pizza from dinner has you parched and slipping out to the kitchen for a drink. You pull a glass from the cupboard and fill it at the fridge, gulping down the contents to refill it again. Suddenly, you feel two strong arms snake around your waist and you start, sloshing your water and smacking the back of your head into the man holding you. You hastily set your glass down and turn in his arms as he lets out a groan, one of his hands releasing you as it flies up to cup the front of his face in pain.

"Bin, oh my god! Are you okay? You scared me!" you chide with a chuckle as you reach up to push his hand away and brush the tips of your fingers across his nose.

He pouts down at you and you smile.

"Did I wake you?"

He huffs.

"Yeah. To get your toothbrush. Then I couldn't go back to sleep."

"Sorry," you groan, still stroking over where you had struck his face. "Does it hurt?"

He nods.

"Kiss it better," he mumbles cutely.

You roll your eyes, but lift your lips to comply when suddenly he interrupts the motion with the soft press of his mouth to yours. It's slow and sweet, and you're struck all over again with how quickly you melt at his touch - a sensation you cannot imagine ever growing accustomed to, but to which you are fairly certain you are in danger of growing entirely addicted.

"Bin..." you whisper against his lips, "Bin, what are we-"

"Liar," he murmurs, pulling back.

Your mouth parts in confusion as you stare up at him, still drunk on his lips.

"You said the clothes didn't fit. You should wear this all the time," he smirks as he squeezes low on your waist.

Your cheeks heat as you remember what you're wearing, but you don't have long to be anxious over it as he presses his lips to your nose...the corner of your mouth...your jaw. You tremble as you lean into him, fingers splaying over his warm, bare chest.

"Let me show you," he whispers against your skin.

"Sh-show me...what...?"

He draws back, pressing his forehead to yours.

"How perfect you are."

You still, eyes flicking up to his. They're dark and tender and pleading. You let out a little shuddering breath.

"I...you don't have t-"

His arms hold you closer, gentle but insistent.

"Let me," he whispers, the tip of his handsome nose brushing over the dip of your cupid's bow. "Please. I want to."

You swallow, eyes dropping to his lips. You want it too, you find. You want his hands and lips and eyes all over you, bringing warmth everywhere they meet your aching body. You nod and take his lips again with yours.

"Yeah?" he murmurs against them.

"Yeah," you breathe, slipping a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair.

He groans in response, deepening the kiss as he licks at your parted lips and when your tongues brush, sparks burst in your belly. You feel it all slipping, the masks, the walls - every barrier you hold up to shield yourself from not being enough. His arms are strong and his lips are tender and you can't focus on anything but the perfection of being so utterly held.

His mouth moves to caress your jaw, under your ear, down the column of your neck, and suddenly you feel the edge of the counter pressing into the small of your back. His hands grip your waist and he hitches you onto the tiled surface with ease. It's cold against your bare legs, but you don't have more than a second to register the discomfort as Changbin nudges his way between your knees. He runs his hands over your thighs as his eyes trail from your panting lips to your lightly heaving chest.

You feel your nipples pebble under his gaze and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his eyes glinting with mischief as he runs a hand up your side, over your shirt, to rest under the swell of your breast. He flicks a thumb over the hardened bud and you whimper and jump. He laughs softly, his smirk spreading into a full smile as he squeezes your breast and brings his eyes to yours.

"Your pretty body likes me, noona," he puffs proudly, massaging you deftly through the soft cotton of the tee.

You don't have a witty retort. Your body likes him so much that it frightens you. And with the deep affection you already feel, have long felt, for him...

You reach to gently tangle your hand again in his coarse, dark curls. He glances up, a sweet little smirk tugging at his pretty lips again.

"Bin..." you sigh.

"Hmm?" he hums as he slips his hands to your bottom and tugs you forward so that you're flush against him.

You dip your head and your lips ghost his.

"Nothing," you whisper, and you kiss him again. Again and again.

His hands slide from your ass to slip beneath your shirt at your lower waist and he kneads the soft flesh above your hips.

"So soft. Feels so good," he groans into your mouth.

You moan as the walls of your pussy contract. You're beginning to ache, beginning to drip – and his words seem to affect you as intensely as his touch.

He moves his lips to latch onto the soft skin of your neck and suck, his hands bunching your shirt up and up until his mouth pops free from your skin and he's pulling the thin garment over your head and tossing it aside. The cool air pricks your skin and you become keenly aware, for the briefest moment, that you are sitting on your best friend's kitchen counter, stripped down to her sleep shorts, with her brother between your thighs. As your brain races to decide whether to find that incredibly arousing or absolutely panic-inducing, Changbin's cherry lips rewire your neurological pathways in favor of the former when they close around your right nipple. Your head lolls back, colliding with the cabinet door and it clatters.

"Shit..." you hiss softly, threading your hands into his hair and gripping it by the roots.

Your eyes slip shut and you focus on the sensation of his warm tongue slipping over the peaks of your breasts, his strong, smooth palms cupping and caressing. And then you feel his little puffs of breath and the nudge of his nose at the valley of your chest as he groans and smushes your tits up to meet his face.

"I fucking live here now," he mumbles into the globe of your breast, and despite the heat of the moment, you softly laugh. You laugh and you feel his smile pressed to your skin.

Then suddenly he's pulling you into his arms in a bridal carry. You know he's strong, as you wrap your arms around his neck, but can't push away a pang of self-consciousness as he bears your weight.

"Bin, I'm so heavy..."

"You're not."

"I don't want you to..."

"Stop it," comes his voice in a soft, deep command as he halts in his tracks to kiss you.

He kisses you and kisses you until you believe that he could carry you until the end of time, and then he takes you into the guest bedroom and sits you gently on the bed. The bed with the mussed sheets that smell like him. The sheets that he's leaning you into as you push yourself to the middle of the bed while he hovers over the top of your body, his lips never leaving yours.

As he sinks down over you, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress has warmth licking through your veins. You move your hands to caress over his broad back, feeling his muscles ripple beneath your fingers as he shifts to prop himself up on his elbow. You use the free space to trace your hand down his chest and abdomen until you reach the waistband of his pants. If he'd just push himself a few inches up you could...

He pulls away, just barely breathless, and his eyes find yours. He reaches down with his right hand to pull yours gently from between your bodies and to his lips, before threading his fingers through yours and pressing your joined hands into the sheets beside your head.

"I want to eat you out."

He says it so simply, so confidently, and you can feel more arousal gush to join what's already begun to paint your inner thighs.

"Fuck..." you breathe, your fingers trembling in his grasp.

"Can I?" he asks, kissing your lips softly again.

For a moment you're afraid of what saying yes will mean, of the intimacy of it all, of the possibility that you won't measure up, someway, somehow, or maybe...that you will - and what in the world you would do with that level of acceptance...

You let out a shaky sigh, as you hold his gaze. It arrests you and washes over you. You remember his eyes as he knelt on the living room floor, and all they pleaded with you to disbelieve, to unlearn.

Yes. Yes...If it's him, you want it, whatever it means.

You surge forward, pressing your lips to his, your hands weaving through his hair, pulling him in. He lets out a tiny whimper as you devour him, kissing him with determined abandon until you have to come up for air.

"Yes, Bin, yes," you shudder into his mouth as he pants over you. “Yes I want you to.”

In answer, he presses one last tender kiss to your lips before moving to kiss down your body. He moves slowly, but with purpose, pressing an adoring mouth to every part of you that’s bared. He kisses your ear, your neck, your collarbones…he moves over your shoulders and down your right arm to the tip of each finger. He kisses your breasts and down your stomach. He kisses your belly button, and over your hips and down your left thigh. He kisses the inside of your knee, and bends your leg to kiss over your calf and down to your ankle.

You can barely watch him, as he brushes his lips over you, but he flicks his eyes up to yours so often you don’t dare look away. There is something flickering in his gaze, something like a challenge - daring you to contradict, to doubt what he seeks to impress upon you - and you begin to feel something strange and new. Something you’d never found at the touch of a lover, blooming in your chest and unfurling like a proud little flower under the sun: the strong, heady beauty of esteeming yourself worthy of his desire. It terrifies you a bit, and the ugly voice that has heckled you so often tries to cast doubt, but Changbin’s lips and hands are too persistent and assured for the harbinger in your mind to linger long. And the tidal wave of lovely feelings crashing over you threatens to destroy the shabby prison your heart has lingered in for so long.

Changbin lays his head on your thigh as he brings his hand off the other to cup your pussy over the softness of your shorts. His groan is nearly as loud as yours when he rubs over your mound, and it makes you impossibly wetter. He’s so unabashed and liberal with reacting to what he enjoys, and he is clearly enjoying you as much as he ever has anything.

He moves to bring his face to your clothed cunt, hovering over you for a nanosecond to catch your eyes as he mouths down over you. Your jaw drops open, and when his teeth scrape dully over your clit, your hips jerk and you fist the sheets. Changbin pulls back with a smirk, and sits back on his knees between your legs. He pulls one of your legs up to lean against his shoulder as his hands instinctively knead over the muscles of your calf and thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, with a little smile.

You nod with one of your own.

“I’m gonna lift you, okay? You can hold onto my legs, but I’ll have you, so don’t worry.”

You bite your lip and nod, suddenly a little shy. Look at him. Where did he get all this confidence?

He drops your leg briefly to tug off your shorts and panties, cursing at how wet you are, and gently slipping two fingers to brush between your glistening lips and over your clit. You gasp at the sensation - his fingers deft, his touch soft but firm where you ache for him. And then, suddenly, he is sliding your legs back up to rest against his chest and shoulders. His hands slip down to your hips and he effortlessly tugs your ass over the incline of his thighs and flush with his abdomen. Your heart starts to thrum in your chest. His body is warm and sturdy against the soft plush of your ass. Heat floods your cheeks when you sense a slickness against him where your arousal has begun to smear against his stomach. He, however, is far less bashful. Widening the gap between your thighs, he dips his head down, inhaling deeply.

"Fuck…" he murmurs, squeezing your legs where he holds them.

When he raises his eyes to yours again, they’re unlike you’ve ever seen. They’re dark and hungry and hooded in a way that nearly intimidates you. His expression is full of heat, and manly in its sudden gravity. He watches you as he slips his thumbs under your waist and, slowly with strong hands, pulls your hips up beneath his chin. Your legs bend at the knees and drape around the crown of his head. Your spine curves where your upper back is flush with his thighs, your arm on either side of his kneeling form, and as he embraces you tightly around the hips and waist, you feel nearly every ounce of your weight suspended in his hold. The blood rushes to your head where it lays against the mattress, your neck curving just shy of his knees, offering a clear view of his gorgeous face as he wastes no time in pressing his open mouth to your labia.

Your core muscles flex in response, hips pressing higher against him as you feel ripples of exquisite pleasure trickle through your body from above. The smooth muscle of his tongue slips past your entrance and begins fucking into you. Your head swims, the slightest dizzying restriction of oxygen dampening your ability to focus on anything but the bliss of his hot, wet mouth. Being tasted has never felt this intense. You whimper, your hands reaching around his body to find purchase on his muscular ass. You feel the press of his throbbing erection into your back as his tongue fucks unhurriedly into you. He’s rock hard, and all for you. From the sight of your naked body, the feel of you in his hands, the taste of you on his tongue. From the sounds pouring off of your lips as he worships your sex.

Your legs begin to shake. You’re so totally in his hands. He holds you, lavishes you, consumes you. Nothing stands between you and ecstasy, and you can feel your climax fast approaching as pleasure ebbs and flows like a crashing tide on the rhythm of his firm, languid strokes.

"Ch-Changbin! Nhhh!" you mewl, you voice throaty and muffled from your position.

He growls against you and you nearly cum then. One of his hands drops to squeeze the soft mound of your right breast. Your cheeks burn, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead and neck. You can feel your pussy throbbing - hot and sticky and swollen with stimulation - as he devours it like the flesh of ripened fruit. His lips encircle your clit and suckle as the tip of his tongue flicks over the erect peak of your bud.

And then it all goes white. You lose all sense but feeling as you rock your hips up to meet him, the tension in your abdominals adding sinfully to the fluttering pulsating of your pussy. There’s nothing but you and him and his arms around you and his mouth against the most intimate parts of you as your orgasm washes over you in electrifying slow-motion, pulling you under a tidal wave of bliss for what seems like an eternity. Your lips part in a silent scream of his name, your eyes pressed shut, as he works you through the longest and most intense climax your body has ever experienced.

You feel him place one last sweet, gentle kiss to your cunt before moving the hand on your breast to one of your thighs as he guides you back down onto the bed. You’re panting and boneless as you watch him draw an arm over his cum-slicked chin and cheeks. For a moment he simply looks down at you, a victorious air about him as his eyes trace your sated features and his gorgeous chest heaves with labored breath, then he crawls forward on the bed, stretching himself out on his side next to you, his body flush with your own. He slips his hand over the soft skin of your belly and rubs it soothingly as he watches you with a little grin.

“You good?” he asks in a raspy murmur.

You reach for his face, bringing it to yours as you kiss him with what wherewithal you have. You pull away, still breathless.

“Am I good? Seo Changbin, I think I could fly.”

His answering smile is so filled with joy and pride and affection that you think you truly may have sprouted wings. You roll to your side to press yourself against him, your hand tugging at the waistband of his pajamas, but he takes your hand again in his.

“Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Tonight is yours.”

“Bin…”

“I’m yours.”

You blink up at him, his head resting on his hand, his eyes sparkling and soft.

“If you’ll have me,” he raises your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “You don’t have to answer right now. I know you’re going through a lot, and this is all…new.”

He smiles again, glancing down as his features take on a boyish shyness.

“But I care for you. And, however things work out,” his eyes lock with yours again, “I’ll always protect you.”

Your heart stands still. There are things that are too deeply lovely for words to be wasted on them. Any words but three - three that are already deeply true, but which have begun to mean something beautiful and different tonight, burying themselves like a little seed in your heart that needs time to grow. So for now you let yourself cry tears that fall like raindrops in the sunlight, and drift to sleep with the steady beat of Changbin’s heart.

“Ay!” Nari’s voice cuts through the din of chatter as her hand shoots out to narrowly prevent a fellow patron from snagging the chair beside her. “Sorry, seats are taken.”

She takes a sip of her beer and stretches her short legs as far as they will reach across the two empty chairs beside her.

“The guys are gonna have to hustle if they’re gonna sit with us,” she says reproachfully, dark brows rising as her eyes scan the venue for the bodies that belong in the seats you have been desperately attempting to reserve for the last hour.

The Eight Ball is crowded to bursting, and you scan the stage for signs of the evening’s openers. Checking your phone, you find that it’s nearly eight. You also find a text that brings a smirk to your lips.

“What?”

You glance up at Nari, who’s staring at you suspiciously.

“Nothing…” you mumble, flipping your phone back over onto the table. You sip your cocktail through a straw.

“Are you texting him?”

You nearly choke on your drink.

“What? Who?”

“You know who,” Nari mocks, narrowing her eyes at you. “The jerkwad.”

“Oh my god, Nari, no!” you sigh, as your phone buzzes again.

She glances at it.

“Then what was with the look? Who are you…”

“Are these for us?” a voice belonging to a smiling, dimpled young man in a black hoodie with a matching beanie pulled over his head saves you from further explanation.

“Jesus, Chris, finally,” Nari admonishes as he takes the seat next to you, pulling her legs off the remaining chairs to free them up for the other two men that follow behind him.

The freckled blond pulls Nari into a side hug which she returns, booping his nose before leaning across him to peer menacingly at his friend.

“Yo, Jisung,” she barks, “If you’re gonna order several hundred pizzas, how about taking some with you next time? My fridge is still stuffed.”

The young man blinks wide, surprised eyes at her before his brain catches up with her scolding.

“Sorry, but it wasn’t my fault!” he insists poutingly. “I ordered them because Changbin asked me to and then he canceled gaming weekend ‘cause he had a girl over.” he grumbles, causing the other two to snicker.

“Nice,” Chris giggles.

This time you do choke.

Your eyes fly to your best friend, watching the barrage of questions bubbling up on her face when a voice cuts through the din, silencing the crowd and unknowingly saving himself for the time being.

“Good evening, Eight Ballers!” Changbin rasps into his mic as Hyunjin waves, as ridiculously beautiful as ever, beside him.

You look at Changbin’s eyes.

They’re bright and confident and determined. You smile and cheer when he finishes introductions. As the band hits the first few notes of the opening number, his gaze finds yours, and it’s full of so many things.

His eyes sparkle with seven days worth of secrets – of waking up to your eyes and arms, of a weekend of nothing but bare bodies and hearts, of weeknight phone calls until the wee hours of the morning…of a new way of caring for each other that you’ll eventually tell the others, but that is just yours for now.

As you look at him, so full of adoration, you hope you can offer him even a fraction of the new world he’s only just begun to share with you – and the reflection you see a little more beautifully each day in the light of his eyes.

-Fin-

138 notes · View notes

ramblingoak · 2 days

Text

Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

Secondo x Female Reader

Still lusting over Secondo in the ghaseball uniform so here's a sort of sequel to Sliding Home (which you don't have to read first) and some amazing art by @tasty-ribz. Happy late birthday Ribz! Love you bby 💙

Warnings: baseball talk, smutty fun in a locker room, nsfw 18+ only, mdni, 1600k words, not really beta read forgive me

“Why am I doing this again?”

“I told you,” You slapped his hands away when he reached up to adjust his ball cap. “It’s good pr, gets people curious about the chur–”

“You misunderstand. Why am I doing this again?” Secondo stood up and turned to look himself over in the mirror. “Couldn’t Terzo have taken a turn?”

“Well, I tried Terzo. Had Copia take him out onto the abbey grounds for a game of catch and everything.” When you were silent for a few moments Secondo turned your way with a raised eyebrow. “He, uh, broke one of the windows of Primo’s main greenhouse.”

“Ah. That’s why the old man was screaming the other day.”

“Yes. So that was a whole…thing. Imperator told me to send you again and well, here we are.”

You stood up with a flourish, your arms wide and a big smile on your face. It was clear Secondo wasn’t buying it. He clicked his tongue at you as he took a few steps closer.

“Imperator chose me, eh? Not her golden boy?”

“Copia was uh, busy. You know,” When Secondo closed the distance between you even further you gulped and started backing up. “Papa stuff.”

“Si, I do know of this ‘Papa stuff’.” He grinned when your back hit the wall and you let out a little yelp. “I think I know why I’m here and mio fratellino isn’t.”

“Terzo would’ve nailed someone in the head with a ball.”

“No, not him. Copia.”

“Copia was busy, as I said.”

“Wrong. Copia has been posting pictures of his rats on his private Instagram all morning.”

“Wait, he has a private Instagram? No one told me thi–”

Secondo’s finger on your lips shut you up. You couldn’t help but hold your breath as the man shifted even closer, one arm bracketing you. Like usual, having him so close overwhelmed your senses. His demeanor, his words, even his smell was pulling you in like always. You were absolutely enamored by him.

Especially with him in that uniform.

“I think, cara mia, that you asked Imperator to send me. Specifically.”

“That doesn’t seem like something I would do.”

Secondo flashed you a grin that had your stomach doing a little somersault. He leaned in close, his lips just barely flitting across your own before he moved them close to your ear, “You wanted to see me in this costume again.”

“It’s not a costume, it’s a uniform.” He snorted, the quick exhalation of breath on your ear making you jump. “And so what if I did,” Secondo pulled back far enough for you to see his face, an eyebrow once again raised as he regarded you. “Want to see you in this again? Is that so bad?”

“Non c’è male affatto. It’s bene. Good. But,” His lips were back on your ear, his body now pressing up against you. Your hands moved to grasp at the uniform top, your grip tightening when his tongue ran along the shell of your ear. “Next time just ask me, eh?”

You stumbled a bit when he abruptly backed away, your grip on his top the only thing keeping your wobbly legs from collapsing under you. There was a brisk knock at the door to the room and a voice called out that Secondo had ten minutes. He covered your hands with his, the black leather warm and soft like it always was. You suddenly felt like apologizing and opened your mouth to do so but he seemed to sense it. He shushed you while bringing your hands to his mouth and pressing kisses to each of your palms before letting them go and walking towards the door.

“Papa, wait!” He stopped and turned back towards you, his eyes darkening a bit when you began to slink his way. You reached towards him and straightened his sleeves, smoothing your hands down his chest next until your fingers rested on the buckle of his belt. “Mi dispiace, Papa. Shall I make it up to you?”

“If it pleases you.” His eyes focused on your mouth when you bit your bottom lip, your tongue immediately peeking out to soothe the sting. “It would certainly please me.”

“Let’s make it interesting. How about I reward you based on how you do out there?”

“How I do?”

“Yes,” You ran your hands back up his chest to rest on his broad shoulders. “Let’s say if you go out there and completely screw up you’ll only get a kiss.”

To demonstrate, and because you really wanted to kiss him, you pressed your lips to his, quickly pulling away when he tried to deepen it.

“Or?”

“Or, you could get the ball close to home plate and earn some kisses down here.” Secondo groaned when your hand massaged his cock through his pants. You were quick, not wanting to get him too riled up so he couldn’t even walk out there. His growl when you let go of him had you smiling and reaching up to kiss the tip of his nose. “Does that sound fair so far?”

“I suppose.” When another brisk knock and shout for Papa came at the door again you winked and pulled away. “What do I get if I throw it across the plate? A strike, yes?”

“If you manage a strike, Papa, I’ll let you do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

You stared at each other for a handful of seconds, both of you breathing a little heavier. Secondo was the first to break eye contact, swiftly turning and striding towards the door. When he yanked it open he looked back your way, a small smirk playing at his lips. The stadium assistant trying to usher him onto the field was making worried noises but Secondo ignored him.

“Be ready.”

With that he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him. You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and sank down to sit on a bench. The distant roar of the crowd had you smiling and you began to pick some lint off your top.

“Play ball.”

“I don’t fucking believe it. Oh, oh right there.”

His thumb circled your clit again while two of his fingers curled inside of you, dragging along the spot that had you grinding down into them. Your clothes were already soaked from the warm water of the shower, sticking to both of you. Secondo’s cap was on the floor somewhere, along with his belt and your shoes. You couldn’t bring yourself to care that you didn’t have a change of clothes to leave the stadium in. All you cared about was that he kept doing that.

“What’s not to believe?” He pulled back far enough so he could take one of your breasts in hand, thumbing at your nipple through your top. “Didn’t think I could throw a strike?”

“No, no I did—oh, yes. Yes, please.”

“Which is it, dolcezza? No?” He smiled, tilting his head as he watched you lose your mind. “Or yes?”

“Yes, you bast–ah!”

Two fingers inside of you became three and he started to pump them in and out of you faster. Even over the falling water you swore you could hear them move through your wetness. In truth you had been wet all damn morning, the anticipation of seeing him in the baseball uniform again was too much. Your head fell back against the wall with a thunk and you watched him through half-lidded eyes. He looked equally a mess as you, the paint running down his face and disappearing down his neck. When he caught you looking he grinned and you were glad the wall was there to help hold you up.

“I’ve been practicing. Knowing you as I do I figured it was only a matter of time before you’d drag me to one of these stupid games again.”

“Baseball isn’t, ah fuck, stupid.”

“Demanding souvenirs and singing that stupid song about pretzels and Cracker Jacks.”

“It’s peanuts and Cracker Jacks you absolute snob–fuck, Papa please. I can’t—”

“You can. You can take this, my fingers fucking you.” He moved in close, the water dripping off his head onto yours, streaking your hair and face in black and white. “You’ll come on my fingers and then you’ll get on your knees and suck my cock.” He was grinning when you looked up at him sharply. “Whatever I wanted, remember?”

“Y-yes.”

“Bene. Molto bene.” He gripped your chin and dragged a thumb across your lips. “I want to come inside your pretty mouth before I come inside your cunt.”

His words coupled with his fingers knowing exactly what you needed had you coming almost immediately. The orgasm rippled through your body and you clung to him as his fingers continued to move inside of you, slower and slower. The water continued to beat down on you both as you took a few moments to collect yourself, eventually looking up to meet his eyes and to see him grinning once more.

“What is it?”

“On your knees, dolcezza.”

You took a quick breath and then obediently dropped, wincing when your knees touched the tile. When you glanced down to his belt quickly Secondo nodded and you went to work undoing it and opening his pants. His thick cock sprang forward, eager for your mouth. As your lips began to close around him he rested his hands on your head, stopping you from going any further. Confused, you pulled away, looking back up at him.

“Papa?”

“Just trying to think of the phrase. Ah,” He bit at his bottom lip like he was trying to hold in a laugh. You huffed, narrowing your eyes because you knew what he was going to say and you both loved and hated him for it. “Play ball.”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#secondo x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #secondo fanfiction #secondo #oakie's writing

130 notes · View notes

sometimesanalice · 5 hours

Text

Between Friends

Summary: Bradley and you don’t talk about that Spring Break. But a single question asked during a night out at the Hard Deck might just change things between the two of you forever.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 11K

Warning: smut (including loss of virginity), brief mention of underage drinking, and college!bradley in a backwards hat

(Author's note: Happy Birthday Jordan! I wrote this just for you! Look at me keeping secrets from you! Enjoy!)

𝐍𝐎𝐖

Rooster couldn’t control his bouncing leg.

That night at the Hard Deck had started out like any other: good music, good drinks, good people. Over the course of the evening, he’d found himself seated between you and Bob in a lopsided circle with the rest of the Daggers around a few tall tables that had been pushed together just shooting the shit.

It was all fun and games until swapping stories about embarrassing middle school moments turned into cringing over first kiss stories turned into Seresin grinning like a shark asking about how everyone’s first time went down.

Rooster felt his pulse kick up with every collective laugh and groan as his friends went one by one sharing how they’d lost their virginities. Because with each passing story, it meant that you were one person closer to going. And for the first time in his life- even after over two decades of friendship- he didn’t know what your answer was going to be.

So he is just as shocked as his teammates are when you tentatively reveal, “So, um, my first time was with Rooster.” He doesn’t miss the way all his friends’ heads snap towards him.

All eyes are on the two of you, and you’re pointedly looking anywhere but him.

Rooster had been anxiously waiting to hear the story of your first official time, the one that was with someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t realize that you still considered him your first. He’d figured that part of your history had long been overwritten by whoever had been lucky enough to catch your eye and make your heart race in a romantic way.

The two of you had never talked about it in the after.

Not once, not ever.

He didn’t care that people knew, he just wasn’t expecting it.

Jake starts the group out of its stunned silence by slapping a heavy hand on top of the table, nearly sending some bottles to the floor, “I knew it! I knew y’all couldn’t have been friends all this time and not have tried it out at least once.”

“Jesus Christ, dude, chill,” Javy mutters. He’s always been the better of the two about reading the room.

Trying to spare you from being put on the spot even more than you already were now, Rooster mumbles through the way he’d lost his to a girl from his AP Econ class after a playoff baseball game.

He stares at the way you’re nervously picking at the label of the Blue Moon he’d grabbed for you when he went to get a refill of his own. He can practically hear the way your brain is buzzing. He wonders if you wish you could take back the words from where they are sitting on the table with the collection of bottles and peanut shells for everyone to see.

Bob being the team player that he is starts talking about how he’d lost his one summer in college to another camp counselor, going into more detail than he’s ever given before, probably trying to redirect the attention to himself to give the two of you a moment to regroup.

Rooster makes a mental note to tell Penny to put all of Bob’s cream sodas from now on on his own tab.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do here. Or where to look. Or where to put his hands. He wants to talk to you, but there’s no good way for him to go about it without drawing even more attention to the two of you.

You were supposed to be going on a first date tonight, but he’d talked you into canceling to hang out with him instead. He likes having all of your attention on him. And maybe he’s been a little selfish with you, because he doesn’t like to share you with anyone else. You’ve always been his best friend.

Rooster likes that he gets to talk to you whenever he wants now, and that it doesn’t feel like a never-ending game of catch up anymore. In the year since the Uranium mission, he’d felt like all the fragmented pieces of his life had finally come together. He’d reconnected with Mav, he was living in the same city as his best friend, and he had a place he could finally call home.

He didn’t just want the highlights with you, he wanted everything in between too. There’s no more distance due to time zones and scheduling times to call because now you only live 20 minutes away from him. And the next time he comes home from a deployment, he knows he’ll get to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him.

He feels like he’s learned so much more about the grown-up version of you over the last year than he has in the last ten.

Jake jumps in barely a breath after Bob finishes telling his story. “Well, we all know it’s not the first who matters, but who was the best.” Rooster doesn’t trust the gleam in his eyes or the sharp smile on his face. “Since Bradshaw cut you off before, how’s about you go first this time, darlin’. You can tell us about who knocked your socks off. Maybe this time he’ll let you finish, if you know what I mean.”

It’s thinly veiled snooping disguised as chivalry, and it doesn’t fool anyone. Nat’s eyes dart to him briefly, trying to get a read on him.

He’d been 21 at the time. And while he knows more now that he did then, he also knows his name isn’t going to be coming out of your mouth for a second time tonight.

Rooster takes a sip of his beer, needing something to do.

He knows you’ve been with other people. You’d lived with your ex for over a couple years, for fuck's sake. But it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not talk about your sex lives with each other.

His leg starts bouncing again and he realizes he really doesn’t want to hear this. Not because of his ego, but because he doesn’t know what to do about the knot that’s formed in his stomach.

Your mouth opens and closes a couple times before you speak, “That title would also go to Rooster.” The admission is soft, but sure.

Where his heart had been pounding before, now it feels like it had stopped completely.

It’s been 13 years since that Spring Break. 13 years and he’s still your best?

Barely five minutes ago, he hadn’t known where to look. But now? Now he couldn’t stop staring at you.

He just didn’t understand why you still wouldn’t look at him back.

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

When you’d floated the idea by Bradley about visiting him at UVA for Spring Break during your weekly phone call, you’d been braced for the disappointment of him already having plans. It was his Senior year, it wouldn’t surprise you if he wanted to go out with a bang and make the most of it. Especially since he would belong to the Navy soon enough.

But he’d taken you by surprise when he started enthusiastically listing off all the places he wanted to show you, planning out your trip like a well-seasoned travel agent before you’d even booked a plane ticket.

You’d started looking up airfare before you’d even hung up the phone. And thirty minutes later you had a confirmation email flagged in your inbox after elatedly charging that aisle seat to the credit card you only used for emergencies.

It had been close to a year since you’d last seen him. He usually spent his Winter Break with your family, but this year he’d stayed on campus for the holidays and it was the longest the two of you had ever been apart since you’d first met him when you were 8.

And maybe that’s why it took you so long to spot him in the Arrivals area of the Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport.

You’ve always prided yourself in being able to pick Bradley out of a crowd anywhere, but in your cursory glance you hadn’t recognized the tall, broad guy with the UVA shirt pulled taut across his chest and wearing a baseball hat backward on his head. It wasn’t until your third searching pass that you’d caught the lips that were quirked up in amusement and those familiar brown eyes trained on you as he leaned ever-so-casually against the faux wood paneling on the wall waiting for you to notice him.

He’d filled out in the months since you’d last seen him. He was more toned than you remembered him being with definition in places where there hadn’t been before. His face had more distinct angles and less baby fat cushioned curves. Still a bit boyish, but he was well on his way to looking like a man.

Bradley raised his hand like he was going to wave, but then he’d mimicked casting a fishing line in your direction and reeling it in. And it was so endearingly stupid- so him- that you couldn’t help but take the bait and made your way towards him with the biggest grin on your face.

You’d ignored the jittery flutter in your stomach as you’d weaved between people and luggage. You’ve never been nervous around your best friend before. There was something that had on your mind a lot as the days to your visit inched closer, but you’d shoved that out of your mind, because you were finally standing in front of him in person for the first time in months.

“Hey, kid,” he’d greeted you, taking your bag, “Charlottesville must have known you were coming, because she’s going to be sunny for you all week.” As soon as you were within arm’s reach, he tugged you right into his chest for a hug. You could feel the unspoken I missed you in the way he squeezed you just that bit tighter before releasing you.

Then he was dropping an arm over your shoulders and steering you towards the exit and driving you into town in the beat-up car he’d bought after selling his prized Montero, the car that Mav had given him for his birthday.

You’re only there for a week and Bradley doesn’t waste a single moment of it.

After dropping your things off in his dorm room, he takes you straight to campus where he gives you the Official Bradley Bradshaw Certified UVA Tour. He buys you lunch from one of the food trucks in the Amphitheater “for sustenance” before taking you to see the highlights. You start with the Rotunda and then the academic village, making a special pitstop at the Whispering Wall for you to tell it a secret. And then he takes you on a more historical tour, like showing you the exact route he used to streak The Lawn and pointing out the place he’d puked after his 21st birthday.

It’s clear he’d put so much thought into your visit because it seems like there is never a down moment. By the end of the third day you’re more surprised that you don't wake up every morning with a printed itinerary on your pillow.

He sneaks you into the Slaughter Rec Center to rock climb, claiming he had a person on the inside with the right connections. But really from what you could tell, the pretty girl at the check-in counter clearly had a crush on him. He takes you to the batting cages he likes to go to before Dead Week, and spends the time there equal parts making fun of your power swing and trying to fix it.

You get your revenge the next day standing outside of the imposing columns and massive doors to the Fralin Art Museum. Skeptically eyeing the sculpture in the front of the building that kind of looked like a giant wisdom tooth, you mentioned, “I didn’t realize you’d become such a patron of the cultural arts.”

“Hey now, I like artsy shit,” he’d said, only mildly affronted.

You snorted at that. “Is there an exhibit on beer pong and blunt rolling you wanted to see?” Through the window you’d spotted some large landscape oil paintings in ornate gilded frames and carved marble busts of what you assumed were probably of some of the Founding Fathers.

“You just missed that one, it was last month,” Bradley lobbed back, opening the door for you.

“What a pity,” you’d said with a dramatic sigh, “Guess we’ll have to settle for some tasteful nudes instead.”

“If we’re lucky,” he’d muttered under his breath, as you passed under his arm.

And then you’d felt the corners of your mouth kick up.

Turning around you’d pressed your finger to his chest, whispering so the person behind the ticket desk didn’t hear you, “Twenty bucks says you don’t make it thirty minutes in there.”

He narrowed his eyes, taking in your sly grin, “You’re on, kid.”

It’s the easiest $20 you’ve ever made.

The two of you call it a truce only after he tips your kayak into the still chilly Rivanna River.

Later that night, he takes you to a party on “Mad Bowl” that one of his frat friends was hosting. The backyard was all strung up with red and green Christmas lights like they had been too lazy to take them down after the holidays and decided it added to the outdoor ambiance instead of packing them away.

He was still just as protective over you as he was back in high school. Spending the whole night keeping an eye on you and handing you drinks that he’d uncapped himself using the opener that he had on his keychain, the one that still had the little fighter jet charm you’d given him ages ago dangling from it.

The days pass all too quickly as he shows you all of his favorite spots.

You knew UVA wasn’t where he’d originally wanted to be- where he thought he’d be- but you were happy that he seemed happy here.

But in between the late-night microwave ramen and movie watching and crossing off all the things on Bradley’s Spring Break To-Do List, there’d been something you’d been wanting to talk to him about. But you were having so much fun with him, you’d missed your best friend over those long months apart, and you didn’t want to ruin the time you had left with him here.

It lingered at the back of your mind like a phantom hair that you can feel, but can’t ever seem to brush off no matter how many times you attempt to. You felt like you were waiting for the right time that you weren’t sure would ever come. And if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely sure you would even be brave enough to ask if the time came.

The two of you had woken up way before the sun this morning.

If anyone other than Bradley had asked you to wake up before 5 AM to go hike to watch the sunrise, you would have laughed at them. But because it was Bradley, you’d set the alarm without comment. Even though he did have to gently pry you out of his roommate’s bed- with the fresh sheets he told you he bought especially for your visit- and lace up your shoes for you.

The views at Humpback Rock had been worth the hour hike up to the outcrop of craggy rocks. The sunrise painted them a stunning shade of soft orange as the rays illuminated evergreen covered hills and valleys that extended in front of you to the skyline. You and Bradley watched it in silence, shoulders pressed against each other as you took it all in.

You’re cozied up on your bed for the week, flipping through a book you’d brought with you, but hadn’t touched at all until now when Bradley comes back from the showers. His hair is still damp and the ends are starting to curl a bit.

He drops a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the nightstand next to you.

You hadn’t been sure what rooming with him would be like, the two of you together 24/7 since his roommate had left to go home for the break. But it felt like you were two kids at sleepaway camp getting away with mischief rather than two broke college students only pretending to get away with mischief.

He sits down at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his thighs, “So.”

“So?” you repeat, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a sip.

“Are you going to tell me what’s been up with you?”

You wince, and it’s not because the coffee tastes like tar.

“What do you mean?” you try to ask casually.

Bradley gives you a look that says you don’t fool me, kid. “You’ve been squirrely. I didn’t want to press it, but I can tell there’s something on your mind.” He takes a sip of his own milky battery acid. “Are classes going better since you switched majors?”

You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him.

“How are things with your Dad?”

You offer him a shrug.

He sighs your name in exasperation. You can tell he is trying to tamper his frustration at your lack of cooperation.

“Is it a guy?” Bradley tries again.

You swear you feel your heart stop, because you knew what you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how he was going to take it.

You fiddle with a string on his roommate’s comforter. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” you admit, tentatively, “But I’m nervous.”

Bradley’s eyebrows pull together as he sets his coffee aside, “C’mon, it’s just me. You can talk to me about anything.”

“It’s more of a question.” One you’re still deflecting from asking.

“Ok, well you know you can ask me anything.” His tiny dorm room feels even smaller as the two of you try to read the other’s face.

Taking a deep breath, you ask the question that’s been rattling around in your brain for weeks.

“Bradley, I was wondering if you’d be my first?”

Less than ten words. That’s all it takes to tilt Bradley’s world off its axis.

He’s loved getting to show you around UVA this week. It wasn’t where he thought he’d end up, but he hadn’t lost sight of where he was going. He was going to be a Naval Aviator one way or another. He just also got to have a normal college experience too, one he’d been excited to share with you.

Bradley had originally been invited to go stay with one of his friends at his family’s beach house, but when you called and asked about coming to visit Charlottesville, it was an easy choice for him. He’d pick you every time.

It had been even better getting to cross off some of the things on the bucket list he’d made for his Senior Year with you in tow, like the hike he’d taken you on this morning.

He loves the views from up there and thought it would be something you’d like too, but he’d never done the hike early enough to catch the sunrise before. It was actually something he was planning on going the morning of graduation as a symbolic way to end his time at UVA, but getting to do it with you was special in its own way.

And while he’d caught you lost in thought more than a few times over the last few days as he showed you around, he never in a million years would have ever expected you to ask him that.

Bradley knows all the words you just used, but they don’t make sense to him in that order.

His brain is working in overdrive trying to figure out if there is any possible way he could have misinterpreted you.

“Your first…”

You take another deep breath and tip your chin up in resolve before looking him dead in the eye, there’s so much vulnerability reflected in them, “I haven’t had sex before, Bradley. And I’m really hoping that my first time can be with you.”

Bradley wants to tell you to put your Styrofoam cup down because he’s worried the tight grip you have on it might crush it, but he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.

He didn’t realize when his leg started bouncing until he sees you glance down at it.

Shooting to his feet and off his bed, he goes to lean against his recently decluttered desk. There’s too much restless energy coursing through him to just sit like he isn’t completely reeling.

“Shouldn’t you want to do this with someone special? Like with rose petals and all that shit?” He scrubs a hand over his face. Rose petals and all that shit? God, he sounds like such a fucking dumbass, but he’s struggling to keep up.

And if he’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty surprised to learn you’re still a virgin. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but he knows you’ve had at least one serious boyfriend since you’ve gone to college. He figured that you got asked out all the time. He saw the way that some of the guys in his buddy’s frat were looking at the pretty girl with the dimples and big smile.

The girl who just asked him to be her first.

He hates the way your shoulders have slumped forward, like you’re trying not to cave in on yourself, “So, you don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that.” His answer takes him by surprise.

The only other sound in the room other than his pounding heart is the whir of the air circulating in his dorm.

“Would it help to make a pro con list?” you offer, less than helpfully with a little shrug.

“Jesus Christ,” Bradley mutters under his breath, looking up at the speckled ceiling trying to decode the flecks like tea leaves. “She’s cracking jokes like she didn’t ask me to make her come.”

“Technically, I didn’t say anything about that. I just asked you to be my first.”

“I’m not taking your virginity and not giving you an orgasm,” he states, and your eyes get wide. He runs his hands through his hair. “Sex makes things complicated, kid. We’ve got a good friendship.”

You sit up straighter on his roommate’s bed and bring your knees to your chest. It exposes the backs of your thighs and he has to shake the mental images of skin on skin out of his head.

There’s a look on your face that tells him you feel ridiculous even asking him, “Do you think you’re going to fall in love with me or something?”

“No,” Bradley says, honestly.

He knows you’re just trying to make a point.

The two of you have been friends for over a decade. He knows he cares about you- he always has- but he couldn’t imagine what anything other than just friendship would look like with you.

You nod in agreement, like you had been anticipating the answer before you’d even asked him the question.

“And do you think I’m going to fall in love with you?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.

He doesn’t even blink, “You can do better than me.”

And he means it.

Even if there was something more between the two of you, you’ve always been too good for him. And knowing him, he’d find a way to fuck it up. You’re the last person in the world he’d ever want to hurt. He’d let you down before, he doesn’t want to do it ever again.

You shoot him a disappointed look, like you don’t like hearing him say that about himself. And he’s oddly touched that you’re defending him against himself.

“You’d literally be doing me a favor.”

Bradley is still surprised that he hasn’t ended this conversation yet. The two of you were supposed to go to the movies, but that definitely wasn’t happening now.

“I’m not saying no,” he says, “But I need you to help me understand. Why me? Why now?”

“Bradley, I want it to be with you because there’s no one else I’ll ever feel as comfortable with as I do with you,” you explain.

He watches as you unfold yourself and climb off the bed, coming to stand in front of him. You gingerly reach out and put your hand on his forearm, like you don’t want to startle him. Not that he’d be able to move anyways since it feels like the soles of his feet are cemented to the floor.

“I keep waiting for it to not feel like such a big thing, but every time it seems like it’s going to happen, I freeze. And I know you’d take care of me, and I’m not talking about orgasms.” You stumble over the word a bit, not fully meeting his eyes as you say it. “It’s scary enough as a girl and I’m worried I’m going to be too in my head with anyone else. But I also don’t want to look back and have any regrets, and I know I wouldn’t have any with you.”

The mention of regrets makes his stomach twinge. His heart feels like it’s hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say.

You are looking at him with such open sincerity. He has never been good with talking about his feelings, he’s always been the type to bottle things up, while you have always worn your heart on your sleeve. It was just another way that you were braver than him.

“I know it’s a lot,” you say, letting go of him to take a step back, like you want to give him breathing room, “So if it’s too big of an ask. Or if it’s not something you’re comfortable with-”

Bradley shakes his head cutting you off, “It’s not that at all, kid. I just haven’t done this before.” Your eyebrow scrunches together in confusion. “I mean, I have,” he corrects, “But it’s not the same. All the girls I’ve been with had already had experience. And if we were going to do this, I would want to make sure it’s as nice for you as it can be.”

“So you’d be my first and I’d be yours? Well, kind of.” You give him a little smile, it’s a shy but hopeful thing. There’s only a hint of your dimples, but it’s enough. And he feels that practical part of him that had been holding back soften at the sight of it.

He doesn’t think he’s ever said no to you, excluding the times you tried to get him to give you his beer at the house parties he took you to in high school, and that was more out of self-preservation from a healthy fear of your mom than anything else.

When you wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift? He took you to the abandoned parking lot, it didn’t matter that you didn’t have your learner’s permit yet. When you wanted to learn how to throw a punch? He was making sure you knew not to tuck your thumb under your fingers, so that you didn’t break your own thumb instead of someone’s nose.

He’s always had your back and you’ve had his. That’s how it was between the two of you.

You’ve already said it, but he needs to hear it again, “You really want to do it?”

“I really want it to be you, Bradley. I really want to do this with you. I trust you the most.”

He’s always been willing to help you with anything you’ve ever asked of him, why should this be any different? What’s a couple orgasms between friends?

“Ok,” Bradley nods. If it’s to reassure you or himself, he couldn’t say. “I’ll do it. We can do it.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, like you were fully prepared for him to let you down gently, “Really?”

You didn’t ask for his why he was agreeing, but he was going to give it to you anyway.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I lost mine to Samantha Prescod after the game against Centennial that got us a spot at State that year,” he waits until he sees the recognition cross your face before continuing, “But I had also just learned about my mom’s diagnosis and I was trying to find anything I could do to not think about it.” He rubs at a spot underneath his collarbone, it never got any easier talking about his mom. “I think she assumed that I’d done it before, because we didn’t really talk about it. She was there and into it, so it just sort of happened. Actually, I’m pretty sure she only slept with me because she wanted to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, because they got back together like three days later.”

It’s probably for the best that Samantha Prescod lives on the other side of the country now because you look livid. Your eyes spark with anger and disbelief on his behalf.

“It was years ago, it’s fine, kid” he shrugs, trying to brush off your concern. “But if I had a do-over, I don’t know if I’d make the same choice again. And that’s not something I’d ever want for you.” You deserve the rose petals, but he’ll do his best for you. “So we can do it, but I have one condition.”

The relief on your face and the way the tension in your shoulder releases only solidifies his decision.

“Tell me,” you say, taking a half-step towards him, “I want you to be comfortable too.”

Bradley pushes off his desk and meets you the rest of the way, “If you even think you’re feeling uncomfortable- about any of it- I need you to tell me. And we’ll stop and figure out where to go from there. If it’s a change of position, if it’s a full stop and order pizza instead, we’ll do that.” He pauses and reaches out to tip your chin up. “I’ll do whatever you need, got it?”

You throw your arms around him, and his wrap around you just as easily. Your hair smells like the travel sized shampoo he’d picked up for you, figuring you wouldn’t want to use his 2-in-1. You murmur your thank you into his shirt followed by a fuck Samantha Prescod that makes him squeeze you just a bit tighter to him in affection.

When you step back and look at him, your lips twitch upwards, “What’s with the look, Bradshaw? Don’t tell me you’re going to lie back and think of England?”

That makes him chuckle, your joke lightening the mood in only the way that you can do. He rolls his eyes in equal parts exasperation and fondness.

“God, I haven’t been this nervous since I lost my own virginity. I was so stressed I was going to blow my load in two pumps and lose my street cred.”

You snort and send him a smirk, “Well, you must have done just fine. I overheard some glowing reviews in the girl’s bathroom on more than one occasion.”

“I maybe lasted ten trusts, but I had the good sense to eat her out after,” he admits, and then tacks on for good measure, “I’ve gotten better since then.”

“What a stud,” you tease.

This is easier, this feels like the two of you. This should be fun, it shouldn’t feel serious. He can make it good for you.

You look up at him shyly from under your lashes, “So how do we do this?”

He feels like he only just wrapped his head around the idea of it, but now he was facing the very real possibility of seeing you very naked very soon.

“You want to do it now?” Bradley blinks.

“I mean, if you’re up for it.” You scrunch your nose when you realize you’ve made a terrible double entendre. “No pun intended, I promise.”

He wipes his hands on his pants.

“You sure?” he asks again.

“I’m sure, Bradley. As long as you are too.”

He nods, “Then I guess we just…”

He’s not sure where he was going to go with that. But he’s spared from being roasted by you for making some sure to be lame birthday suit joke because you’re untying the bow on the soft lounge shorts you’d thrown on after your shower from the hike, and all the words get trapped in his throat.

You don’t look at Bradley as you slide your shorts down your legs. And you definitely don’t look at him when you pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a soft green mesh bra and your cotton underwear. They’re mismatched, but sex with Bradley wasn’t originally on the Spring Break To-Do List agenda for today.

In fact, you hadn’t even been sure you were going to go through with asking him until he brought up the point that he knew you had something on your mind because you apparently had no poker face.

While it felt like you had a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach, you also knew wholeheartedly that this was the right choice for you. Everything he had said had solidified that for you.

You weren’t sure how you were ever going to thank him for this, but you had a lifetime of friendship with Bradley to figure it out.

His room cast in the soft afternoon light, the blinds only partly closed. There are little streaks of gold that line the plaid comforter on his bed. He’d been right, Charlottesville had stayed sunny just for you.

As you climb into it and situate yourself against his pillows, you can help but notice just how much his bed smells like him. It’s not the spicy scent you associated with the High School version of him. The woodsy and warm scent embedded in the threads of his sheets suits this grown up version of him.

You feel equal parts overdressed and underdressed in your bra and underwear. You know the latter are going to come off eventually, so you make a split-second decision to just take them off yourself under his covers. The idea of Bradley helping you to pull them off later seems like it would be too intimate based on the way the thought of it makes your cheeks heat up.

It’s practical, you’re being practical, you think to yourself.

You chance a peek at him and are surprised to see that he hasn’t budged an inch. It’s almost like he is waiting for you to get completely settled before he dares to move a muscle. His eyes are trained on the pile of your clothes on the floor, he looks lost in thought.

“Bradley?”

The sound of your voice seems to kickstart him into action.

He shucks off his shirt in that kind of reckless way that seems to be ingrained in boys and then unbuttons his pants. You’re torn between feeling like you should give him privacy and wanting to watch. What you were expecting is the way he takes the time to pick his clothes up before folding them over the back of the chair at his desk.

Your mouth goes dry as you take in the sight of his body, the diffused light perfectly outlines the shape of him. His broad shoulders are rounded with the muscles he’s gained from whatever exercises the NROTC has been putting him through. Your eyes dip down to his defined chest and over the ridges of his abs. You’ve seen him in swim trunks plenty of times, but seeing the way the muscles of his thick thighs fill out the black boxer briefs he was wearing was entirely new to you.

Bradley approaches you and then pauses as he bends down to collect your pile of clothes on the floor, his hand hesitating only for a second when he reaches for your underwear. He drapes all of your things on top of his on the chair and makes his way back to you.

The gesture makes you melt a little like a soft serve ice cream cone on a summer afternoon.

You lift the corner of the cover for Bradley and he climbs in next to you. You move closer to the wall, trying to make more room for the bulk of him in his small bed, and he shifts in even closer into you until your bodies pressed tight against one another. The curves and angles of the two of you slotting together like pieces of a puzzle.

It feels like the two of you are teetering there on the edge of something. You both know exactly where it’s going, but are unsure of how to make it from Point A to Point B. Both waiting on the other person to make the first move.

He rests his warm hand on your stomach, the muscles there jumping on their own under his touch in anticipation. Your faces are close since you’re sharing his pillow. His brown eyes are searching yours, probably looking for any sign of hesitation that you don’t feel.

“Tell me how you’re feeling.” It’s not a question, but a request.

“Overwhelmed,” you admit, “But in a good way.” He runs his palm lightly up your stomach and back down, soothingly.

“Good, that’s good,” Bradley says, clearing his throat, “You’re supposed to feel a little ‘overwhelmed, but in a good way.’” You feel your lips pull up at his gentle teasing.

He smiles softly at you. His face has always been so familiar to you. The pink from his scars have finally faded, but you wonder when his eyes start crinkling around the corners.

You let go of the comforter to run a finger down the top of his nose, “I don’t know how this has stayed so straight.” He’d been in more than a couple fights in his teen years, including one that had sent him through a sliding glass door.

“Probably the combination of a little luck and the fact that none of those guys could throw a punch,” Bradley smirks. He shifts on his side, propping himself up on an elbow looking down at you, still running his hand along your stomach. “What have you done so far?”

His fingertips circle your bellybutton and your stomach swoops like it’s on the swing carousel ride at the fair.

“Some over the clothes stuff…” you stammer. You’re having trouble focusing because all your attention is on his big hand and how it feels against your oversensitive skin. “And I have a vibrator, but ah…”

You’re so keenly aware of his hand. With every lazy circle he makes, he has you wondering if this is going to be the one where he finally moves his hand lower. That part of you in flutters in expectation because you know it’s coming.

You let out a shaky huff when his fingers trails back up your stomach.

“What is it?” Bradley’s hand stops moving. “What are you thinking?”

“Honestly?” you say, trying not to squirm, “I’m getting really horny and you keep teasing me.”

He presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh at your overshare, and there’s amusement in his eyes.

“You know, some people call it foreplay,” he drawls. You’d roll your eyes but his fingertips are by your bellybutton again and you want him to keep going. “You ready for more?” You nod a few times because if he doesn’t touch you soon you might just crawl out of your skin. “Ok, gonna stop ‘teasing’ you now.”

This time his hand doesn’t stop at your bellybutton, it keeps moving down, down.

You stutter over a breath when Bradley’s fingers touch your clit. You feel yourself melt a little further into his mattress. He’s making easy circles, letting you get used to someone’s fingers other than your own on the most sensitive part of you. Your hands are clutching tightly to his comforter, unsure of what else to do with them.

“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” he murmurs. You feel your face heat up. He’d just given you a direction, but it sounds almost indecent coming out of his mouth.

You shift, moving your legs apart further for him, until he secures your left between his own, opening you up even more. You know you’re wet and now he does too. Bradley’s fingers slide easily over you as he increases the pressure on your clit. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you watching for your reaction as he figures out what you like the most.

It doesn’t take him long to learn your body. You don’t know whether to be impressed with him or embarrassed with yourself at how quickly he’s worked you up.

Your breathing feels so loud in your ears in the quiet room, every breath and sigh is amplified. There’s a certain thrill in not knowing how he’s going to touch you next, your own fingers pale in comparison now.

His warm breath coasts down the side of your neck causing you to shiver at the sensation. It makes goosebumps break out along your arms and your nipples pull taut.

He notices. Of course he notices.

“Are you cold?” His voice is low in your ear.

“No, I-” Oh god, you’re right there. “B-bradley, I’m-” You’ve made yourself orgasm plenty of times, but you’ve never shared that part of yourself with anyone else before. No one knows what you sound like or what you look like when you come. But now, Bradley was going to have the piece of you too. A whine escapes you without your permission.

“It’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.”

You’re seeking and searching, but it’s Bradley’s fingers that have the answer.

And you come with your stomach twitching and hips jerking as he murmurs praise in your ear.

His fingers slow down, featherlight on your clit, but your heart is still racing when he rasps, “There’s one, you up for another?”

Bradley loves that moment during sex when he hears that first gasp or moan. He loves learning what sounds of satisfaction he can pull from his partner. He loves knowing he earned it. But he never in his life could have ever anticipated hearing those sounds from you.

In his bed. Because of him.

He didn’t expect the lick of heat that curled up his spine at the shape of your legs and the curve of your ass as you were stepping out of your shorts. He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers.

Every hitch in your breath made his blood run hotter in his veins. He was trying to control his cock, but he’d started getting hard the second you’d pulled your shirt off. Your bra was some kind of sheer thing that left nothing to the imagination, and while he wasn’t trying to check you out- because that’s not how it was between the two of you- he couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down.

You’re slippery, wet, and warm. And he knows he can make you come again.

“Do you want me to use my fingers now?”

You crack an eye open at him, it’s the first time you’ve opened your eyes since he first touched you. Your eyes are bright in that way that only comes with an orgasm. “I thought you already were.”

“Such a smartass,” he grins.

Bradley changes the unhurried circles he’d been making on your clit to the upstroke that made your hips jerk up into his hand the first time he’d tried it. The little noises you’re making have him fighting the urge to grind himself against you for some relief of his own. He’s still got your knee tucked between his own; where there had been a hint of polite space between your bodies, the way you’re writhing now has him pressed up against your hip.

You gasp, breathily, “Oh, you’re hard.” The disbelief is evident in your voice, but it’s the look in your eyes that he doesn’t know what to make of, something like surprise.

He’s been trying to be a gentleman, this is about you and not him. There might not be anything romantic happening between the two of you, but this was hot and he was more than a little turned on. And he knows you are too because he can feel how wet you are under his fingers.

“’Course I am,” Bradley says, nudging his nose against your temple, “I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed half naked.” He didn’t want you to feel like you were in this on your own, so he lightly rocks against you. He wants you to feel him, he wants you to know he is into this too. “Are you ready more?”

“I’m ready, I want more,” you confirm, wrapping your hand around his bicep.

Your breath hitches as he teases you with just the tip of his finger.

He’s been told before he has big hands and thick fingers, he’s always taken it as a compliment in the past, but now he’s scanning your face for any trace of discomfort as he sinks one into you.

Your eyebrows twitch then smooth out and your mouth drops open as he starts pumping his finger into you in a smooth rhythm.

“That feels nice,” you sigh, airily.

He knows you like it when your hips tip up just a fraction. His comforter is bunched around your waist and your nipples are peaked against the see-through fabric of your bra. He gets his thumb on your clit and you whimper as you tentatively roll your hips against his fingers.

Bradley hums his approval, “Atta girl. There you go, find what feels good for you.” His voice sounds low even to his own ears, a throaty rumble. He feels you clench around his fingers and it sets his pulse racing. It’s a piece of information he tucks away for himself.

He’s gentle on your clit, but now that he knows you’re into it he’s setting a more purposeful pace with his fingers.

You’ve got your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, like you’re trying to swallow down your sounds. He didn’t realize how much he liked hearing these new sounds from you until you started trying to muffle them. On the next slide of his finger into you, he knows exactly what he’s looking for.

You suck in a sharp breath of surprise when he finds it.

“Is that the right spot, kid?” He sounds so smug. You curse and your hand clutches at his shoulder. “You want to try a second finger?” he murmurs into your ear.

“Yes,” you rock into his hand, “Yes, please.”

“Whatever you want, Miss Manners.” His chest feels like he’s taken a shot of Fireball. “You’re so polite when you’re trying to get your way.”

“I’m always polite,” you challenged weakly, pressing your head further into his pillow.

“Mhm,” he indulges, fondly, “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”

And then he fills you with two fingers.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you gasp, offering more of yourself to him.

Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder as he lets your whimpers and whines guide his hands.

The two of you have your eyes fixed on the way the tendons of the visible part of his forearm are flexing before it disappears under the covers as he works you.

Bradley curls his fingers into that spongy part of you and your hand flies to his wrist, gripping him tight. It makes him pause, worried that he might have pushed you too far too fast.

“No, no. D-don’t stop,” you plead, desperately, “I’m so close. Keep going, please.” You squeeze his wrist encouragingly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes. He focuses his efforts on that spot again now that he knows you weren’t wanting him to slow down, but rather trying to hold him in place. His fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit working in tandem to get you there again.

“I just- yes. Like that. Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh my god. Please, Bradley.”

He’s heard you say his name a lot of different ways, but never like this.

Your back arches and you twist yourself towards him, burying your face against him and keening into the hollow of his throat as you come around his fingers.

You jerk and writhe into his hand, your knee slips free of his and your thighs clamp together around him. Bradley rolls off the arm he’d been leaning on and brings it to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he steadily works you through it until you’re loose-limbed in his arms.

He waits until your rapid pants have evened out before he slips his fingers from you. The displeased sound that you make makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He should have known you’d be bossy. He rubs gentle circles into the divots at the base of your neck as you come down.

Bradley can feel your lips graze the side of his neck when you finally speak, “So, um, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I’d be happy to pass one along to your next partner.” You languidly prop yourself up on his chest and he notes with pride that you look a little flushed. “But, seriously, I get it now.”

He huffs a laugh as he toys with the end of your hair, “I’m glad it lived up to the hype. Well, at least that part of it.”

You press your lips together like you’re deciding something, tracing idle shapes on his stomach, and he can’t decide if he thinks you’re doing it without realizing it or if you’re the one doing the teasing this time. Your eyes flick down to his visibly hard cock and he feels his face heat up, “Can I?”

“Do you want to?” Bradley wants this experience to be everything you need and want it to be, but something about the tables turning here and the idea of you being the one to touch him like that makes his heart pound.

“I want to make you feel good too,” you softly tell him, resting your chin on your shoulder. The tender way you’re looking at him makes his teeth ache.

“Ok, but only for a little bit,” he agrees. Bradley knows he’s walking a tightrope with this, he’s aching and more than ready to be touched, but he doesn’t want to come all over your hand.

He plants his feet into his mattress and lifts his hips enough to pull off his boxer briefs, sighing in relief as his cock bobs free.

“That can’t be average,” you mutter under your breath.

He doesn’t know if you meant to have said it out loud but he smirks all the same, “I’ve never been average a day in my life, kid, Grade A student here.”

A groan slips out of him as your tentative fingers grasp his cock. There’s a lack of finesse in the way you touch him, your hand isn’t nearly as well-practiced as his own. He wraps his hand over yours, guiding your strokes as he shows you just what he likes.

“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. Together the two of you work him from root to tip.

Bradley had never given much thought to his size until now. He knew he was big, but seeing that your thumb couldn’t reach the tips of your fingers when your hand was curved around him was an ego boost he didn’t know he needed.

You get more confident with every glide up and down the length of him. Your tricky thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting what precum had gathered there, and it makes your hand slide easier over him. When he accidentally thrusts into your hand, you grin and there are those dimples again.

“Ok, ok,” he blows out a shaky breath, stilling your hand with his. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come. And I’m not about to be a one pump chump.”

“It sounded like you’re more of a ten pump chump, if I remember correctly,” you tease, looking all too pleased with yourself. “Don’t worry, Bradshaw, your street cred is safe with me.”

He shakes his head in amused disbelief, “You’re such a goddamn menace. I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.” He surprises the both of you when he wraps an arm around you and rolls to pin you under him.

And it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room because your thighs are cradling his hips and his cock is resting heavy on your stomach.

Neither one of you dare to move. He’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now, he feels out of his depth as he watches you watching him.

His tongue feels thick in his mouth, “Are you on-”

You nod before he even finishes the question.

“Do you have-”

He nods before you finish yours.

“What did you promise me?” he prompts, squeezing the dip of your waist.

You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake.

Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him, but he drops a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches over you into the drawer of his nightstand to fish out what he needs. He’s thankful when you don’t comment on it because he wouldn’t even know how to explain it.

He leans back on his knees and rolls the condom on with practiced ease, then flicks open the cap to the bottle of lube he’s also grabbed and drizzles it over his cock.

“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before.

“You’re plenty wet,” he assures you, pumping himself- once, twice- just enough to coat himself, “But this’ll be good too. I think you’ll like it.”

Bradley settles back over you, one arm braced by your head and the other on your hip, as your hands come up to rest lightly on either side of his ribcage. He rocks against you to demonstrate; the head of his cock nudges your clit with each silky pass. You exhale heavily at the sensation as he eases you into the motion of it, as he shows you what it’s like with another person.

You’re holding him close, and in just a moment the two of you will be the closest two people can be.

He makes only enough room to reach down between your bodies, only looks away from your face long enough to line himself up with you. There is such trust in your eyes as you gaze up at him, it’s not something Bradley takes for granted.

You nod, your fingers stroking his sides.

God, does he want this to be good for you.

He takes a breath.

And then he’s shifting forward and pressing in.

Bradley thrusts into you with all the careful gentleness you’d expect from him.

His thumb skimming along your forehead as he pushes in, in, in.

When he found that spot inside of you with his fingers, you thought you were going to fly away from the intensity of it, but then he’d pulled you into the safety of his arms and you felt like you could fall apart because he’d be keeping the pieces of you together.

He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know.

The more of him he gives you, the less you feel like you can catch your breath.

You feel hot, hot all over. And much fuller than you’ve ever been.

Some sound must make its way out of you because Bradley offers you a low soothing noise before you feel his lightly chapped lips against your temple.

There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. Always waited until you told him you were ready, until you found your balance. He’d held your hand as you cautiously rolled along the sidewalk, you were less worried about falling with him by your side. Only this time, his hand is on your waist and the only movements are his hips against yours as he rocks into you.

Little by little. Inch by inch.

You clutch at his biceps at the slight stinging sensation and you feel him hesitate.

“It’s just a lot,” you whisper. His fingers flex on your waist.

“You’re doing so good, just a bit more,” Bradley murmurs, encouragingly.

There’s pressure, there’s a give, and then there’s relief when his hips finally, finally meet yours.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath.

Your eyes had flickered shut somewhere along the way. You open them to see that Bradley’s face and chest are flushed pink, the muscle of his jaw flexing. The furrow between his eyebrows is so deep that you release your grip on him to smooth out the lines with an unsteady fingertip.

He reads the question in your eyes.

“You’re just really tight,” he grits out, voice strained.

You assumed that was a good thing, but he’s holding himself so tense above you that now you’re not sure. “Do I-,” you fumble over the words, “Does this feel good for you?”

He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-”

Your whimper cuts him off when he pulls out a fraction and then pushes back in.

His brown eyes take you in as he does it again, more this time. Pulling out just a bit- just enough- and then filling you again. The discomfort fading more with each thrust as he guides his hips to yours until yours are tilting up to meet his seeking more.

It’s a conversation between your bodies, the give and the take of it all as Bradley introduces you to this new unspoken language. You feel yourself flutter around his cock, stretched wider than you’ve ever been.

You feel that heat spreading underneath your skin again as he surely and steadily pumps into you. It feels like your nerves are on fire. You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third.

He reaches down and hooks your leg over his hip. His hand slides up along the outside of your thigh and under your ass, tilting your hips up towards his even more. He’s so much deeper like this. Your hands slide into his hair, tugging at his curls.

“Bradley, I-I think… I feel-”

“You’re gonna come,” he rasps, nodding at you. Encouraging, coaxing.

He grinds his pelvis against your clit with every deliciously slow roll into you.

Your mouth drops open at the feel of it, it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. Bradley’s pupils are blown wide, his heavy-lidded eyes are locked on yours. You didn’t know there could be so many shades of brown. His curls are a mess and it’s all because of you. He licks his lips and your breath catches in your throat when his eyes dart down to your parted mouth.

His next thrust into you hits that spot inside of you just so right that it has you gasping.

It’s so good, it’s too good, it’s overwhelming.

You wrap your arms around his neck clinging to him, your face buried against him. Bradley drops his head to your shoulder, you feel his lips brush against your clavicle. Your head moves away on instinct, making more room for him if he wants to do it again.

You get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the places you’ve heard about and read about, but have never felt for yourself until now. He’s still got your ass gripped in his hand, whereas your hands can’t stay in one spot. They’re tangled in his hair, running over his shoulders and down his abs, gliding over his back aided by the sheen of sweat he’s worked up.

You’re not trying to hold yourself back, but it feels like you’re standing on the tallest diving board at the pool, your toes curled around the edge, but still too nervous about the drop to jump.

“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.”

He gets his fingers back on your clit and it’s the end of you. Your back is arching so much you think you might snap. Your toes curl so tights they may never unfurl. The force your orgasm overtakes you, demanding everything you have up to offer and then some.

You hear Bradley’s moan as you pulse around his cock, trembling under him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. His hips stutter against yours, finally losing that steady rhythm he’d set, you pull him tighter to you and it’s not long until he comes too.

It’s all white noise. All you can feel is your heartbeat pounding, until little pieces of the world come back into focus.

The hum of the fan.

The beam of warm afternoon light through the blinds.

The smell of the now cold coffee on his nightstand.

In the after, you’re all too aware of every place your body is touching Bradley’s.

He’d somehow managed to roll on his back and had taken you with him. He was literally just inside of you, but yet it feels like your leg draped over his thigh is somehow more intimate. A prickly self-conscious feeling settles over you. Unsure of what the rules were for friends who just had sex, you attempt to peel yourself off of him, but the heavy arm over your waist keeps you in place.

“Come back here, kid,” Bradley mumbles, his eyes still closed, “I need to cuddle after I come, so I’m gonna need you to indulge me here for a moment.” He strokes a soothing hand down your back. And while he says it’s for him, you know he’s still trying to take care of you.

He hums when you lay back down. You set a hand on his chest. He reaches for it with his free one and threads your fingers together. It makes you melt further into him.

You feel a little different. But mostly, you feel like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying had been lifted off of you.

Your first time was everything you hoped it would be. You were safe and cared for, and you already knew, you’d never have any regrets about it. And it was all because of him.

“Thank you, Bradley,” you say, softly.

“Anything for you, kid.”

Your early morning catches up with you as you lay there, warm and secure. Your eyelids get heavier with each pass of Bradley’s hand along your spine. And you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.

You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley.

It was just… something between friends.

A few hours later the two of you are still in his bed.

Only now you’re clothed and swapping the cartons of Chinese food that he’d ordered while you’d napped against his chest, and fighting over the fortune cookies watching some reruns of old sitcoms. You couldn’t hear their laugh tracks over your own.

The last couple of days you had at UVA fly by just as quickly.

You don’t know how, but the two of you managed to cross of all the things on his Spring Break To-Do List. And before you knew it you were back at the airport.

Bradley had insisted on walking you in, wanting to see you off.

Neither one of you has ever been good with goodbyes. So you don’t give him one, instead you reach for your bag and tell him, “Ok, see you in June.”

Bradley doesn’t let go, clearly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”

You grin because it feels like a checkmate.

“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?”

He looks thunderstruck.

You and your mom already had the plane tickets and hotel room booked. Your stepdad wouldn’t be able to come, but he was planning on sending your mom with one of the cakes from his family’s bakery. You’d been tasked with finding out what flavor, carrot cake or peanut butter- Bradley’s two favorites- but you could iron out the details with him later.

You’d had a busy week, plus it was more fun this way.

Bradley tugs you into his arms, yours wrap around him just as easily as they always have.

“June?” he asks into the crown of your head.

“June,” you promise.

And when he lets you go- for real this time- it’s with a smile that takes up his whole face.

He doesn’t say goodbye either, “Be good, kid. See you in June.”

𝐍𝐎𝐖

You avoid Rooster for the rest of the night.

And Jake too, for that matter. Bless Javy for finding ways to distract him because you could tell than man was chomping at the bit for more details. But you’d already given him more than enough.

You could have lied, you probably should have lied. It might have been easier than feeling like you’d hung up part of yourself on the drying line for everyone to see. But in that moment, the thought of lying and saying anyone else’s name other than Rooster’s had made your stomach turn.

Because it was the truth, he was your first, but he was also your best.

When you come out of the bathroom, there’s no missing Rooster. He’s leaning against the wall by the entrance. It takes him a moment to notice you since he looks lost in thought, but when he does you feel pinned to the wall by the intense look in his eyes.

He stands to his full height as you approach, you know he wants to talk about it.

You shake your head at him, “We don’t need to do this.”

“No, kid, we really do.” He takes you by the arm and leads you to a quieter spot away from everyone else.

“It was just a game,” you start before he can, “And now I know more about everyone’s sex life than I ever wanted to.” He crosses his arms over his chest at your attempt at deflection. “Look, I’m really sorry if that was something you wanted to keep a secret or just between us. I should have asked you first if that was ok to share.”

“I don’t care about that.” Rooster waves you off and takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “All this time and I’m the best you’ve ever had?”

“Are we really doing this? Here and now?”

You peer around him to look and see if anyone is watching the two of you, it feels like a showdown. But all the Daggers are occupied, probably on purpose. You’ve never seen Mickey with such a serious look of concentration on his face.

“Here and now,” he confirms.

You feel flustered, “Rooster, it’s been 12 years and we haven’t talked about it once-”

“Bradley,” he cuts you off. He takes another step towards you, so you’re toe to toe with him. “I’ve always been Bradley to you.”

The tension that had crept up in your shoulders releases a bit.

“Bradley,” you say, softly. “Listen, I’ve had a lot of good sex since then. Great sex even.” He presses his lips together and nods. “And with other men, if I felt like they weren’t putting in their best effort I’d kick them out because the bar was set very high early on.”

You see him fight back a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, with pride.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, you know he hears it because his eyes take on a richer shade of brown. You both feel the shift, tension churning between the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “But I was telling the truth when I said you were my best. Probably because of the way you made sure I knew that you cared. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different with you.”

You feel his finger graze the back of your hand.

The sounds of the Hard Deck fade into the background as you stare at each other. Entire conversations are being had as you look into his eyes and he looks into yours. Words and sentences spoken with glances.

Just friends don’t look at each other like this.

“It’s never been like this,” you whisper, “We’ve never been like this before.” You gesture at how close he is to you.

How he’s almost got you backed up against a wall.

How he’s looking at you like you’re his.

“I know.”

He says your name and your heart somersaults in your chest.

“I want to see your tattoo. I keep finding myself looking for it when we’re all at the beach. And then I get annoyed, knowing that people have seen it and I haven’t.”

“My tattoo? Bradley, what-”

“I want to see your tattoo,” he repeats like it’s a fact. “And I want to punch Seresin in his smug face every time he flirts with you.”

You roll your eyes, “Jake doesn’t flirt with me, not really. He just likes riling you up.”

“What if I said I wanted to try this as more than friends.” Bradley settles a large hand on your hip. “What if I said that since you’ve moved here I’ve had a hard time keeping my head on straight.”

“Bradley.” His name falls out of your mouth so easily now that it can.

“I want to take you home with me. I want to kiss you. I want to make you come. I need to know if you sound the same in my bed. And then I want to take you out for breakfast and buy whatever fancy coffee you want and as many pancakes as you can eat.”

You’ve been told that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he has always worn his on his face. There’s no mistaking the open want on his face.

“Bradley, it’ll be different this time.” For so many reasons.

Because it’s not a favor being asked. It’s not some new experience being tried with the person you trust the most, with everything. You’d be on equal footing. It wouldn’t be a friend helping a friend, the two of you would be crossing that line between friends and more because you want each other in that way.

“I want it to be different, sweet girl,” he says, cupping your face in his familiar hand, “I’m ready for it to be different, if you are.”

He looks from your eyes down to your parted lips.

“We didn’t do that last time,” you whisper. Feeling brave, you reach out and run your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.

“No, we didn’t,” he agrees. His eyes are trained on his thumb as he skims it under your lip. “And that’s a damn shame.”

Bradley’s face is all you can see. Warm eyes, a still-straight nose, and a soft smile that is for you and you alone.

He dips down and your eyes flutter closed, your head tipping up on its own in anticipation.

His lips brush your cheek. It’s not enough.

You tug on his collar, but he chuckles and kisses your cheek again, lingering longer this time.

“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps.

You open your eyes and see the amusement in his. He always did like teasing you.

“Oh, where do you plan on doing it then?”

“Outside your front door, like a gentleman,” he says, like it’s obvious.

You can’t help but grin because Bradley Bradshaw can’t wait the extra 10 minutes it would take to drive to his place instead of yours. He wants that kiss just as badly as you do. You watch as a matching smile to yours blooms across his face.

It feels normal to slide your fingers between his much larger ones. It feels right as you lead the way out of the Hard Deck with him only a step behind you.

As it turns out, he only makes it as far as the Bronco before he’s spinning you back towards him and pressing you against it. His hands are on your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you for the very first time.

Bradley kisses you like a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is you.

It’s not tentative in the way that first kisses usually are.

He kisses you like he knows you.

Because he does.

Later, when he closes the door to the Bronco for you, it feels like the end of one thing. But as he slips his fingers into yours when he backs out of the parking space it feels like the beginning of something new.

That night tangled in Bradley’s sheets- he’d kissed you at every light which made those extra 10 minutes it took to get to his home worth it- he makes your back arch and your toes curl as he makes you come with his fingers and mouth and tongue and cock. His lips dropping kiss after kiss on every part of you that he can reach. Because he can, because you want him and he wants you.

The way he touches you tells you that he remembers it all.

He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last.

And he’d be the only man to ever have your entire heart.

Happy Birthday Jordan! An AU just for you! 💖 I adore you and I hope this year is the best one yet!

A big thank you to @callsignspark and @ofstoriesandstardust for their help and beta reading and their woogirling! I appreciate you two so much!

Author's Note: this was a "what-if" AU set in the 'Like I Can' universe! If you want to read about what really happens you can read it here!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun imagine #topgun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

104 notes · View notes

foreingersgod · 2 days

Note

Could you write something for Caitlin? Maybe the reader is dating Caitlin and on the Iowa basketball team with her and she gets injured from a technical foul?

of course you can! thanks for the request!

Twisted Ankle . CC

paring: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis:

༶•┈┈୨♡��┈┈•༶

you guys were down by 1 against lsu, the pressure was on and all of you were feeling it. the stadium was buzzing with anticipation as you and the team prepared for the final seconds in the game. while everyone was setting a tight strategy for the remainder of the game, hoping it would clinch another win for iowa, you noticed caitlin across from you. she was in her head again, biting her lip and trying not to get too frustrated.

“Y/L/N, we’re going to seriously need you right here” kate pulled you aside for the remainder of the timeout “you’ve got to get in there, ok?”

you nodded your head, taking a swig of water and wiping the sweat from your brow “you got it”

shortly after, the whistle was blown, signaling it was time to start the clock. you all took your positions, waiting for the game to commence. caitlin stood vigilant, trying to find one of you who was open. you quickly passed by your opponents, trying to get open for her.

almost instantly, she spotted you, attempting a pass in your direction. you went to jump in the air, arms up and ready to catch the ball, but before you get your feet off the ground, a player had collided with you.

you went down, smacking your head hard against the court floor, ankles twisting as your opponent interfered with your landing. it all happened so fast, the pain from your head and ankles shooting through your your body. you felt like the air was knocked straight out of your lungs. your vision was starting to go blurry and your ears were starting to ring.

upon your fall, the whistle was blown and the crowd went silent, eventually noticing you weren’t getting up and gasping with worry. despite your fading vision and lack of hearing, though, you could make out several people surrounding you, trying to tend to your injuries, calling for assistance. some you could tell were medics, others probably from your team, and most definitely caitlin. she was the first one at your side, you assumed, feeling her familiar hands on your face, trying to get you to open your eyes.

“hey, baby, baby you gotta get up” she whispered, voice wavering. from your lack of reply she hollered “hey we need someone over here now!”

you could feel yourself being rolled onto a some sort of stretcher or gurney and being carried into the rehabilitation room (idk lol sorry if this is all inaccurate). figures of people whooshed by you, lights rushing over your head as you were sped down the hall. you could hear the announcers of the game behind you, the game was going to continue without you there.

as you were being tended to, still rushing to get you to a private area to properly take care of you, you felt your remaining vision faltering even more. it was too hard to keep your eyes open anymore, no matter many times the medics tried to keep you awake. eventually, your vision went completely dark.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“is she going to be ok?” caitlin asked a nearby medic as they gently placed you onto the stretcher, trying to get as close to you as possible.

“we don’t know what happened other than that she got plowed down pretty good” the medic said hesitantly “it was a pretty nasty blow, but i’ve seen stuff like this before, i’d bet she’s gonna be ok”

she nodded, swallowing her nerves, trying to relax her body. others on both teams gathered around her to try and reassure her that everything was going to be ok. the poor girl that knocked you down was genuinely upset, claiming that she didn’t intend to hit you that hard at all. but caitlin ignored what everyone was saying, trying to not get riled up and focus.

“we’ve gotta finish this, caitlin” kate appeared at her side “i know you want to get back there with her, but there’s just seconds left, you can do this.”

caitlin said nothing, obtaining her position, ready to run out the clock. she was upset that you couldn’t be here, worried that they wouldn’t be able to do this without you. but she powered through, passing the ball to hannah for a beautiful lay up, finalizing another iowa win.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“is she awake? can i see her?” caitlin asked a crew member, requesting to see you the second game was over.

“you should be able to go in, but she’s really sensitive to everything right now so…just be gentle with her” she was already bursting through the doors, anxiety racking her body.

she saw you, laying on a cot, head elevated and an ice pack sat neatly on top of your head. you had your eyes squinted shut from the brightness of the fluorescent lights. your left leg was extended, also perched on a pillow, wrapped in layers of gauze.

her heart shattered, seeing you laying there, clearly in pain. she walked over, causing to open your eyes, snapping in her direction.

“hey superstar! you guys did it!” you gave her a toothy grin, trying to sit up.

cait sat down on a stool next to you, taking your hands in hers, kissing the backs of them “no, WE did it, couldn’t have done it without you” she smiled back. “you had me going crazy out there baby, thought i was gonna die”

you tried to lighten the mood with a laugh “eh, i’m fine, just a headache and a sore foot”

“headache? sore foot? YN you smacked your head on the court and twisted your ankle” she ran her hands soothingly up and down your arms.

“ok yea, but i swear i’m fine, please don’t worry about me too much, ok? please?”

“well you made it incredibly difficult to not worry when you went unconscious out there” she retorted “i’m just glad you’re ok, i don’t know what i would’ve done if it were any worse”

“i know, im sorry” you smiled sadly

“don’t be, it’s not your fault” she leaned over, kissing you softly “but you’re going to need a lot of rest and a super awesome girlfriend to take care of you for the next little while”

“oh! know where i can find one?” you teased, playfully nudging her shoulder.

she pretended to scoff in annoyance “ok, i see how it is!” she fake-stormed off, pushing off the stool.

“no wait!” you laughed, pretending to pout in return “come back! you, i meant you, please don’t go!”

she stopped, sauntering back over to you “wouldn’t dream of it” she brushed stray hairs away from your face, smoothing her thumb against the skin of you cheek. “i’ll go grab the team so they can come in and check on you…but after that we’re heading straight home and getting you into a nice bath alright?”

“you trying to get me naked, clark?” you batted your eyelashes.

“for once, i’m actually not” she placed another kiss to your forehead “tonight i just want you to relax, hm?”

“yes m’am” you hummed “i don’t know what i’d do with out you, really. thanks for taking care of me, baby”

“always” she replied.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: short little request, enjoy!!

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark oneshot

110 notes · View notes

pablitogavii · 11 hours

Note

Smut pls?

Hermanita ;)

Coming to Spain as an exchange student was one of the bravest things I've done at the age of 18. I always felt adventurous to explore new cultures, but what I didn't expect is to start "exploring" the body of my new "hermano" for a year.

Pablo and I immediately clicked, first it was competition where he always wanted to win, then teasing each other whenever we had a chance but soon that tension turned heated and we were sneaking around the house making out whenever we have a chance.

"Hola, bajita! You didn't come to watch the match?" Pablo came back home all sweaty in his Barcelona uniform and I smirked leaning against the doorframe of his room clearly too busy observing his fit body.

"Hm..I wanted to wait for you at home..hermano" I said moving closer to him and snaking my hands underneath his shirt to touch his flexed abs..hm they were so hard.

"Hmm mi hermanita mala...muy mala...and this pajamas? All this for me bombón?" he said resting his hands on my hips pulling onto the bands of my shorts with his teeth biting his lip.

"Mhmm you played so good so I wanted to treat you...unless they are coming back home too?" you ask and Pablo gave you a sinister look while shaking his head and pulling you closer. Since you study in Barcelona, you stayed with Pablo but his family sometimes visits from Sevilla.

"They have a flight tonight...hmm I'm going to devour you tonight!" he said kissing and licking my neck before leaving some obvious bite marks clearly in the mood to mark his territory.

"P..Pablo..let me treat you tonight" I said but knowing Pablo's character there was no chance he would give up his dominance that being the best treatment to relieve some of his tension after a long game.

"Hmmm you will treat me by shutting up and being a good girl, hermanita" he whispered those words into my ear and I rolled my eyes nodding my head obediently as he laid me down on his bed discarding his sweaty jersey on the floor.

"Hmm knowing you are always waiting for me at home...with this small precious body of yours...all mine to enjoy...damn it you were the best gift I got hermanita.." Pablo spoke while touching me all over starting to suck on my clothed chest making my nipples hard and visible through my white tee.

"Fuck! You're perfect bombon!" he groaned after finally taking off my shirt and teasing my chest while leaving his marks all over my pale skin. I felt on fire with his mouth licking and sucking on my skin as his hands moved in between my desperate thighs.

"Aww baby you're soaked for your hermano...you dirty girl..you're dripping all over my sheets...and they already smell only like you" he spoke moving lower and kissing the inner thighs while his figners started to explore my folds teasingly.

"Do you know that sometimes when they're here and you can't sleep besides me, I get so hard smelling you all over my sheets..I start touching myself at the though of you hermosa..and I explode every time wishing you were here" he spoke while fingering me so perfectly that I could see stars on his celling right now. Fuck! He knew my body so well..it was his body after all.

"Mmm I'm here now P..Pablo.." you moaned the last part contracting around his fingers as he pulled them away undoing his jersey shorts and taking his hard self out while stroking.

"Hmm yes you are preciosa...I'm gonna fuck you so good tonight so you won't be able to leave this bed for days!" he growled plunging into me with force and making me scream his name on top of my lungs. Fuck it felt so good!

"Yes! Scream for me hermanita...we're alone now!" he smirked continuing to plunge into me fast and hard until my thighs shook and I came undone around his hard member.

"Fuck my baby came so hard..good job hermanita...you did so good for me" he smirked sucking the rest of my juices with his mouth which only made me more horny at the moment.

"Mmm more hermano.." I begged shamelessly and he flipped me over making me go on all fours while his hands touched and caressed my ass and his cock teased my entrance again.

"You wanna make me cum inside of you, hm preciosa..wanna get us caught and become mi esposa?" he spoke and my whole body contracted at those words..fuck yes you wanted to be his esposa in the future..you wanted only him forever!

"Answer me, hermanita!" he slapped my ass and I whimpered biting my lip to stay quiet.

"Mhmm please.." was only thing I could master and he smirked fucking me mercilessly from the behind until his cock contracted inside of me and he spilled all of his seed while falling on top of me breathlessly.

"We're so fucked when they come back, baby.." he smirked pulling my naked body on top of his and I smiled shrugging my shoulders and starting to kiss his neck.

"Hmmm..tan mala" Pablo said seeing my smirking again before getting on top of me quickly...let's just say we had a long night!

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #gaviral #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #pablogavixreadersmut #pablogavixreaderfluff

94 notes · View notes

partially-controlled-chaos · 5 hours

Text

My mother has absolutely fallen in love with Gale and it’s the single funniest thing I’ve seen in a while.

So for some context:

My mom is in her late 60’s and can’t live alone so she lives with me. She enjoys watching video games as an alternative to tv (this woman played the hell out of the PS1 so I’m not surprised). She always gives me her reviews on the games I play and loves some more than others. With that being said…

She hates Baldur’s Gate 3. Hates it. Despises it. “Worst game you’ve played by far.” She doesn’t like fantasy genres and doesn’t like a whole lot of combat. Now admittedly she didn’t start watching the game until Act 2 (health issues) so she missed the entire opening and Act 1 and had NO idea what was going on. I tried explaining as best I could but she didn’t fully understand.

Now she doesn’t like anything remotely spooky so the shadow lands was a nightmare for her to watch. Hated it. Hated the characters.

Astarion was too mean. Didn’t like Wyll’s horns and red eye. Karlach was too loud and didn’t like the horns. Shadowheart was too gloomy. Lae’zel was too creepy looking and mean (still haven’t won her over in Lae’zel). Halsin was “creepy looking” (I don’t get it either). Hadn’t met Jaheria or Minsc yet.

Now admittedly I hardly used Gale in my first play through so she never saw him or knew he existed until Act 3. But the second she saw him? Heart eyes. Put on her glasses to look at him better. Rizzard of Waterdeep got her GOOD.

Loved him to the point where she asked if I’d play it again JUST to romance Gale so I agreed because I was going to romance him at some point anyway. And when I tell you that woman is SMITTEN.

Every day I get home from work and it’s “when are you going to play your game? I want to see Gale.” “Kiss Gale. Do a kiss. There’s different kisses? Do them all I want to see the kisses.” “HE HAS A CAT??”

Very quick to tell me on what romance dialogue options to pick. I have no say in the matter they’re all her choices.

Oh and Mystra? Hates her. Can’t stand her. “Blast Mystra with your fireball thingy.” “Can you kill her? You should kill her.” “Gale better be praising you and not Mystra.”

I mean it’s a complete turn around and this is now her favorite game simply because of Gale Dekarios.

And if you’re curious, here’s her ranking of most to least favorite characters.

Gale (and Tara by extension)

Karlach

Astarion

Wyll (was very upset when I had to reject post dance kiss)

Halsin

Boo (not Minsc, just Boo)

Jaheria

Shadowheart

Lae’zel

Withers (genuinely afraid of him)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #Gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale romance #Astarion #karlach #wyll ravengard #Halsin #shadowheart #lae'zel #withers #rizzard of waterdeep

84 notes · View notes

magics-neptunes-things · 10 hours

Text

Kiss Me More

Hi guys :)

I had a request for the last chapter for the serie "Kiss Me", so here it is :)

I hope it will suits you, dear anon.

Enjoy ♥

TW : Mention of cheating

PART 1 | PART 2

______________________________________________________________

Being Katie McCabe’s girlfriend is something you were hoping to be for several weeks before it happens. You both needed a little of adjustment at first, Katie was sometimes a little bit reluctant to pass to much time with you. You were hurt at first, thinking that she finally wasn’t interested to the idea of making things with you. When she realized that she hurt you, you had an explanation, where she basically told you that she didn’t want things to go to fast. Because a part of her was always scared of something going wrong or something.

You were great now, she isn’t the most demonstrative person in the world, at least when you are not alone. You can live with that actually, both of you decided to hide your relationship to the public for now. Not all of your teammates know about your relationship, but the ones who are your friends know.

Katie makes a point to let you understand that she is in charge in this relationship, but as bossy as she wants to be, you can only see how much she looks for you. When you are not coming to work together, she always waits for you in the locker room to have her kiss before going to training. When you are eating with other of your teammates at the training facilities, she always sneaks her chocolate to you. And you can say that she remembers everything you tell her.

Your favorite chocolate, your favorite flower, your favorite color, the name of the cat you had when you were a kid, where you like to go for a walk, your favorite TV show… She knows everything and she is always proud about it.

That’s the kind of things that makes you realize that she really cares about you.

********

“Do you really need to go?” you ask in a pouting tone, wrapped around your girlfriend.

Katie needs to go, you know that. She has to go to Ireland for the national break. You stay in London yourself, your ankle being a little sore and Australia only playing friendly, both of your teams decide to let you rest. You’re a little sad not to go have fun with Caitlin, Steph and Kyra, but you will next time.

“Yes, I have to. But I still could take you in my pocket” she smirks.

“I think I’d like that” you smile back.

Katie laughs and you cuddle even more against her, trying to get as much from your girlfriend as possible. It’s only two weeks, but you don’t like when she’s not around. She seems a little less needy than you are, but she never said anything about your behavior with her. Katie being very honest, you know that she would have said something if she didn’t like something you do.

You feel her shiver when you take a big breath in her neck and you smile, letting your finger run on the skin of her abs. But she knows what you’re doing, because several seconds after, she takes your hand in hers.

“We don’t have time for that, my pretty lady.”

“Can’t make it quick?” you tease.

“Not with you.”

She kisses you and you let her, distractedly asking yourself if it’s a compliment or not. But you soon come back to reality, Katie will leave in some minutes now. You’re at her house, you’ve got her cat’s supervision while she’s away. Ella, her sister, has too but she will rejoin her for the game in Ireland in some days.

You will not, because it would be too risky to do it. People would easily understand what’s happening if you go to the game. And with the social media, it would be impossible to hide. You know it. You’re still a little sad, but you don’t say anything to Katie about it.

She seems a little sad when she says goodbye to you at her door. The way she puts your hair behind your ear before kissing you softly say it all. You don’t need Katie to words what she’s feeling because you can feel it too.

“Write me?” you ask when she takes you against her one more time.

“Course. You too, ok?”

You nod, not trusting your voice at this moment. You hide your face on her neck one last time, breathing her sent. But you know you have to let her go; her Uber won’t wait for her forever.

After a last-minute recommendation about Coopurr, she kisses you a last time before running to the car with her suitcase. You can’t help but smile, waving back at her when she does from the back seat.

********

Katie lost her first game against France and in your opinion, it wasn’t really deserved. Maybe you are biased, but Katie would have deserved to score the goal at the 86th minute. She’s still fuming about her teammates fail and you try to distract her while showing her cat.

It’s seems to work, Coopurr’s purring making her smile. Ella left this morning, and you feel a little lonely here. Thanks god, Lia is in London too and you have someone you like to pass time with you. She is dog-sitting one of the dogs of your teammates and you wonder how it would look like when some of them would have children too.

You were actually walking Calvin with Lia, when you receive a message from one of your friends. You don’t really like when someone send you a “Have you seen that?!” with an article. You were not walking fast because of Lia’s leg, so you don’t have to slow to read it. Maybe sitting on a bench would have been a clever idea though.

You are currently reading an article of a girl, explaining how she slept with Katie McCabe. Your girlfriend. You know that Katie had some hookup before things are getting different between you, but the timing isn’t good. Katie and you are together for four months now. And this girl is literally talking about last week, exactly the day when Katie and her teammates went to a bar to decompress from the training. When you said to Katie that you find it strange, she laughs and answered “Meh we are Irish. Beer is in our DNA.” Which made you laugh at the time, but you are far from laughing right now.

“What’s going on?”

You realize that Lia called your name almost two times before you raise your face to look at her. Not being able to talk, you just give her your phone. You watch closely at her face when she reads it, and you see her passing from questioning to shock. She looks at you straight in the eyes when she gives you your phone back.

“Do you think that’s true?”

There is a lump in your throat that keeps you from talking right. You try to swallow it before talking.

“There are a lot of details.”

Lia nods. There are a lot of details. About Katie and her flat in Dublin, the same one where Ella was living before coming to London too.

“Come on, let’s go home. You need to call Katie.”

********

You did not call Katie, but you didn’t answer her messages or her call either. You know it’s stupid and maybe a little immature. But you cannot face it now. The betrayal is too hard to support, and you cried so much that you are not sure that your eyes will be white again one day.

You still take care of Coopurr though, the cat not leaving your side when you are at Katie’s house. You know she can see you coming if she wants, she installed security cameras outside and inside the house. Other than that, you just go to your flat to sleep the most that you can. You do not want to face this, maybe if you keep hiding the pain will fade away.

It doesn’t. You are startled awake two days after, with loud banging against your door. You hesitate to go answering, but you are clearly in fear that the person will break your door if you don’t get up.

So, you do, trying to arrange your hair in a messy bun. You are wearing Katie’s Irish away jumper and a pair of black Nike shorts. You’re pathetic. But Lia seems to be more relieved than judgy about your appearance when she sees you. She has her phone in her hand, but the relieved soon let place to a frown.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Sleeping?”

She grunts and close the door behind her when she comes in your flat. Thanks god you cleaned last night, tired to be in a messy place.

“Why aren’t you answering to Katie?”

“I can’t” you whisper, following her in the living room.

Lia turns around to look at you and her face softens when she sees you. She hesitates several seconds, before handing you her phone.

“Well, do it now.”

You look at the screen to realize that she was already calling someone for almost 45 minutes already. It’s Katie. Lia encourages you to take it with another nod of her head. You sigh and take it, letting yourself fall in the couch behind you.

“Hello?” you mumble.

“Bloody hell, where were you?!”

You wince at Katie’s tone, Lia taping your shoulder in an attempt of recomfort before leaving for the kitchen. You appreciate the intimacy she offers you, but you would have preferred to have her with you to be honest.

“Why aren’t you answering to any of my text or call? What happened?”

Katie seems on verge of breaking down and that’s maybe what made you snap. You don’t shout with Katie; you know that it doesn’t make any sense to do it with her. She’s loud, but you were always able to talk about things without shouting.

“I don’t know, you tell me?” you say icily.

“I don’t understand.”

You can easily imagine her with her eyebrows frown. You sigh before rolling your eyes. If she wants proof, you’re going to give some to her.

“I’ll send you something. After that, if you have something more to tell me, call me back.”

You don’t wait for her answer before hanging up. You take your phone, looking for the article your friend sent you. You didn’t answer to him, but right now, it doesn’t matter. You sent the link to Katie, before going to the kitchen to give Lia her phone back.

“Do you want me to stay, or can I leave?” the Swiss captain asks.

“You can go, Wally. Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime. Call me, ok?”

You smile slightly and nod, letting her kiss your cheek before she leaves. You just have closed the door behind her when your phone start ringing. It’s Katie, requiring a FaceTime. You answer and Katie’s face is almost white when you see her.

“This is bullshit. I never did that, I swear.”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You are honestly so tired, the amount of sleep you had those past hours are not very good. And sad, of course.

“I don’t know, Katie” you whisper.

“No, it’s the truth! You have to believe me, baby please.”

“How can she know all of these things, Kat?” you say wearily. “She even knows that you have a birthmark on your tummy, or how your kitchen is decorated.”

“Ella always made TikTok in that flat before she comes to London! And for my birthmark, it probably visible on some pictures. You know that I give my jersey to kids sometimes after the game. People take me on picture every time.”

You let several seconds passed, trying to listen to her. The last part is true, you saw thousand pictures of your girlfriend in sport bra on the football fields. For the second part you don’t see her making things like this, particularly with the fact that you just have to go on TikTok to see if it’s the truth or not.

“Come on Babe, why in the world would I ask you out if it’s just for sleeping around soon after?”

“I don’t know.”

You are desperate. You want to believe her, of course you do. You know she has sometimes trouble with talking about her feelings, but you never thought about her cheating on you. She’s one of the most loyal persons you know.

“You know what? I’m taking a plane right now.”

“What?”

Katie is suddenly moving, and the noise of a suitcase that is open is audible from the phone.

“No Katie, you can’t do that. You have training tomorrow and a game in two days against England.”

“I don’t give a damn fuck.”

You almost roll your eyes.

“Katie, stop.”

She listens and look at you, her face dark and her eyebrow frown. She looks determined but she still stopped when you asked her.

“You can’t do that” you repeat.

“Well come to Ireland. I’ll sent you the ticket for the plane.”

“Katie…”

“Stop calling me that!” she shouts.

“Calling you what?” you ask, frowning.

“Katie.”

She says it like it’s a bad world or something and this time you can’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“It’s your name?” you point.

“You stopped calling me that after we start dating. Stop calling me Katie and come to Dublin. Please.”

********

That’s how you find yourself in a plane for Dublin, reserved by Katie who put you in first class. You roll your eyes when you realize it and sent her a picture of you in your seat when you are in the plane. Since your call, Katie almost never stops calling or texting you. You don’t understand how she managed to get the time to go to training, but she does. And the pictures of her on Instagram can say you that it’s the truth.

She warned you that she won’t be able to come to pick you at the airport, but you are surprised to see a man with your name on a paper waiting for you. He smiles at you, informing you that Katie sent him to drive you to her hotel.

He talks to you about Dublin and some places during the journey to the hotel, while you are looking by the window. You never went to Ireland before, only for football. Maybe Katie will show you around if you manage to forget your fight. And you definitively need to change the idea you made in your head that Katie really cheated on you.

You know that some of your friends saw the article too, but no one talked about it to you. Maybe because you were ignoring everyone, true.

When you arrive, you hide behind your hood because you don’t want anyone to recognize you for now. You’re really fearing to find yourself facing Ruesha, for example. Katie told you her room number and your hands are shaking when you knock on the door of her hotel room.

It took her several seconds to respond, but she finally opens the door. She looks tired honestly, but she’s at camp so it’s maybe not surprising. She froze a little when she sees you, like if she doesn’t believe that you will actually come. You’re the one breaking the silence, rather awkwardly to be honest.

“Hi” you whisper, waving your hand.

Thanks god, Katie doesn’t seem to mind. She doesn’t laugh, taking you against her. Hard.

“You’re here” she whispers while holding you.

You nod, finding solace in her embrace. You missed her, obviously. It would have felt better to find her without all this drama though. She lets you go only several minutes after, not only releasing you totally. She looks at you and you look back, both of you not knowing where to start.

“I’m sorry for the article” Katie finally says after some time.

You shrug, not knowing what you could answer to that. She doesn’t ask for it, cheating or not cheating.

“Do you believe me now?”

You know that the answer to the question is important for her. Like you said, Katie’s loyal. And it’s one of the things who are the most important for her. You know it, you know Katie.

“I think I do” you finally say very slowly.

You see that Katie is looking at your face and your eyes with attention, maybe looking for any trace of doubt from your part. You believe her, that doesn’t mean that the article was forgotten. The way you felt when you first read it is still very perennial in you.

“Yeah?” she asks softly.

You nod, smiling very lightly when she strokes your cheek. She gives you the impression that you are made of glass, and you don’t know if she ever been so delicate with you.

“Come sit down.”

She takes you by the hand and you let her drag you in her bed. You sit here, next to her, with your back against the headboard. Katie sits in front of you, playing with her thumb and her nails.

“I’m going to talk, but if you have something to say please feel free to stop me, ok?” Katie asks.

You nod, looking at her. You are curious to know what she might want to tell you. Does she even know that girl? Or did that girl create all this story?

“I know that I’m maybe not the perfect girlfriend and I know that our relationship didn’t really start like it was supposed to. I’ll always had a thing for you, but I was scared, I was an asshole, and it was honestly easier for me to just sleep with you and try to pass to something else. That’s what I tried to do, but it didn’t work. I was still thinking about you, even more than before.”

Katie stops to take a breath and you are still looking at her, not saying a word for now. You don’t know if Katie thought about what to say to you, but for now you understand what she’s saying.

“I never slept with someone else since our first time, I couldn’t even if I tried and that scared the shit out of me. It was so hard to deal with the breakup with Ruesha, not because I was still in love with her, but because it was so shit, you know? I really don’t want to have to deal with that once again.”

You nod slowly, still not talking. This point makes you a little uneasy to be honest. You knew that Katie’s ex will be here to the camp. And you don’t know how the hell are all the people doing, because it was hard for you to be ok with the fact that Ruesha was seeing Katie every day and not you.

“But then there was this damn girl hitting on you right in front of me and I couldn’t support it. I was only thinking that you were mine, but you weren’t. And at that point I didn’t know if you wanted to be mine or if my behavior ruined everything we could have. But you give me a chance, and I’ll be forever grateful for it. That’s why I will never do anything and take the risk to lose you, Y/N. I really care for you and you mean more to me than you think.”

Katie never talked to you about her feelings the way she is doing now. You are touched, of course. You were in love with her before you slept together for the first time, not thinking a second that she might be interested in you too. She seems so vulnerable now, her voice shaking a little at the end. Maybe it’s the emotions, maybe it’s because how much she talked. Maybe both.

You softly take her hand in yours, interlocking your fingers together.

“I really care about you too. That’s why this… things was so hard to read. I don’t understand why someone would invented something like that.”

“I dunno. For celebrity maybe”

Katie shrugs, not really having interest in that for now. All that mattered to her right now is being sure that you trust her. That you believe her and she didn’t lose you.

“Are we good?” she asks, searching for your eyes.

“You promise that nothing happened?”

“I swear on Coopurr’s head, babygirl.”

“Ok” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

You can’t hide the fact that this is the first time that you laugh since you red this article on the park with Lia.

“Hug?”

Katie opens her arms with a slight smile and you don’t hesitate once second before going for her. Your movement make you both fall in the bed and you smile when you hear Katie’s laugh. You missed it. You missed her.

“God I missed you” Katie mumbles from under you, reading in your mind.

“I missed you too” you say honestly, letting your head rest against her shoulder.

She just hums, stroking your back softly while steering at the ceiling. You feel yourself dozen, you haven’t really had a good sleep those last days. But soon there is knock against Katie’s door and you jump.

“McCabe, diner!”

Katie sighs softly and release you to sit on the bed.

“Is it now that I leave?” you asks, not able to hide your disappointment.

“If you want to. Otherwise, you can wait for me here, I’ll sneak something for you to eat and we can sleep together. Tomorrow morning I’ll make my sister come to get you and you can come to the game?”

“Won’t people ask what the hell I am doing here?” you arch an eyebrow.

“That’s not their business. Unless it disturbs you.”

“It doesn’t”

“So it’s settled then” Katie shrugs, getting up from the bed.

She kisses you one more time before leaving and you decide to take the time to shower. You fall asleep while waiting for her, only taking the time to eat the sandwich and snacks she takes with her in the room before falling asleep again. You slept better in her arms than you did since like forever.

And the next day, when Ella came to take you to Katie’s flat at Dublin, you are feeling good again. Katie didn’t cheat on you.

Ireland didn’t win against England, but you are prouder than ever of your girlfriend. You decide to wear Katie’s jersey and to watch the game with her family in the stadium. Your presence didn’t went unnoticed, but like Katie said, you both didn’t care. To be honest, you even have fun to post what fans like to call soft launch.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #katie mccabe imagine #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader

126 notes · View notes