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obsessedwithceleste · 24 days

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The Stages of Grief

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Prompt 5 of @thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge🫶🏽

Summary: They say that when you experience grief, you go through five stages. And after being partnered with Lorenzo Berkshire for your latest potions assignment, rest be assured, you were experiencing all five.

word count: 6.2k

Denial

“Oh you’re kidding,” you groan as you finally spot your name on the list of assigned pairings for your next potions assignment.

You loved potions; in fact it was one of your favorite classes at Hogwarts, despite its demanding course work. You ironically found its rigid, methodical nature to be quite relaxing as moving step by step through the different recipes seemed to practically be second nature. It was a rhythmic dance that you followed religiously, finding thrill in the ever changing contents of your cauldron.

What you did not love however, or who you did not love to be more precise, was Lorenzo Berkshire. Flirtatious, carefree, and devilishly handsome, you were fairly certain that that boy could chat up a corpse. Or he could if he or his friends ever bothered showing up to class. It’s not that you disliked the boy per se, but to allow him onto your sacred ground? Into your sanctuary? You’d rather not.

Yet, there his name was, scrawled neatly next to yours on the board. It was like the universe had it out for you. Or your professor more likely.

“Tell me I read it wrong,” you complain turning to Daphne who was sat beside you.

The two of you had made an unlikely pairing in second year herbology and been inseparable ever since.

The girl just rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh come on, he’s really not as bad as you make him out be,” she sighs, scribbling notes from the board onto her parchment.

“Maybe not to you, but you’ve known him your whole life,” you grumble.

Personally, you’d always found the boy to be a bit of a prick. He was a pretty boy and he knew it, giving him a rather inflated ego you thought.

“Yeah, so don’t you think I might know him a bit better and perhaps be a better judge of character?” She asks.

“Maybe the professor will let me work alone.”

“Oh honestly, y/n. Look, at least he’s in class today. You’ll be fine, promise. And if he annoys you, even a little, I’ll owl his mother,” Daphne replies, not even bothering to look up from her notes. She was used to your dramatics by now.

“Alright, alright, everyone settle down,” your professor calls out, moving to stand at the front of the room before you can complain any further. “This next assignment will take course over the span of the next month or so, as you will be expected to collect some of your ingredients outside of class. So. Who can tell me a little bit about what this next potion that we’re brewing is?”

Your hand shoots into the air as soon as the question leaves your professor’s lips.

“Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence. It doesn’t really create love though, but rather infatuation which makes it one of the most dangerous potions in the world,” you recite.

“Yes, yes! Very good, y/n! Five points!”

“Really if it’s so dangerous, I don’t see why they’re teaching a bunch of sixth years how to brew it,” Daphne mumbles to you under her breath.

You let out a snicker. She had a point.

You turn back to the front of the classroom, tuning back into the lesson as your professor begins scratching away on the chalkboard once more.

“The ingredients that you’ll need to gather are as follows. Two ashwinder eggs, rose thorns, peppermint, powdered moonstone, pearl dust, and rose petals. You’ll have the next two weeks to gather your ingredients with your partners, so I suggest you begin,” your professor announces.

You feel your shoulders wilt at the thought of purposely seeking out Lorenzo, but you can already feel his eyes on you from across the room.

“Do you think if I ignore him long enough he’ll get the idea and just go away?” You whisper to your friend.

Daphne just rolls her eyes at you once more, shaking her head.

“Go,” she sighs, giving you a light shove in his direction before moving to join Theodore Nott at a different station.

With one last sigh of despair, you make your way over to the station where Enzo sits waiting for you, silently mourning your potions grade. And your mental and emotional stability.

“Mornin’ love,” he greets giving you a bright lopsided grin as you approach.

“Hi,” you respond dryly with a tight lipped smile.

“So, what’s our game plan going to be, darlin? I reckon we’ll want to get the hardest ingredients to come by first yeah?” He pushes on, ignoring your clear disinterest.

You nod your head in response.

“The peppermint, rose petals and thorns will be easy. We can get all of those in the greenhouse. The pearl dust- I assume we’ll need fresh pearls, we can probably get from the Black Lake.”

“Great. I think I have a moonstone in my ingredient collection. We can crush it down for the powdered moonstone,” Enzo offers.

You raise your brows at this. Moonstone wasn’t necessarily rare by any means, but you weren’t really expecting Enzo to offer up ingredients from his personal collection.

“That would work. We can also find them in the dark forest,” you reply.

“Nah, save us the hassle. Pretty girl like you doesn’t have any business in that musty old forest anyway,” he responds with a charming grin.

Ignoring his comment, you continue on to the last item on the list.

“I’m really not sure where we’re going to find those eggs. I don’t think we can find ashwinders on the school grounds, and they’re quite risky to breed.”

Enzo stares at you blankly.

“Remind me what an ashwinder is again love?” He says sheepishly.

“Magic serpent. Born from the embers of magic flames that are left to burn. You’re a Slytherin, shouldn’t you know all about snakes and such?”

“Yeah, let me recite to you the alphabetical list of all known magical serpent species that us Slytherins actually use as the password to our common room.”

You purse your lips at the boy’s obvious sarcasm.

“Fair enough. Still don’t know how we’ll get the eggs though.”

“I can see if we have any in our stores at the manor. Probably our best bet if we don’t want to risk burning down the school.” Enzo replies.

“Are you sure? We’re already using your moonstone,” you say, beginning to feel a bit bad about raiding the boy for supplies.

“It’s the least I can do really. I’m useless at potions, so least I can do is provide you with the ingredients that we need,” he says honestly with a light laugh.

“Well alright. Shall we meet up on Friday then to collect the pearls?” You ask, scribbling down your plans in your notebook.

“Sounds good, six o’clock? By the dock?”

You nod in agreement.

“Well alright then. See you then, love.” And with a grin and a cheeky wink thrown your way, Enzo is off.

At least he was pulling his weight in gathering ingredients you supposed.

Anger

“Y/n! Are you headed down to the docs?” Daphne asks slightly out of breath as she runs up to you from across the court yard.

“Yeah. Enzo tell you?”

Daphne nods her head in response as you two begin to make the short trek down to the lake.

“Hope you don’t mind if Theo and I join you?”

“Course not. Probably better that I’m not alone with Enzo by the lake anyway. Wouldn’t want him to try and drown me.” You say lightly, only slightly joking.

“Oh piss off. He’s a nice bloke once you get to know him.” Daphne laughs.

As the two of you arrive at the edge of the lake, you can already see Enzo, Theodore, and Mattheo splashing about in the water. Draco and Pansy are watching disdainfully from the shore.

You hadn’t realized this was going to be a whole party.

“Daph, please get these boys under control!” Pansy shouts when she sees the two of you approaching.

“I’m not their mum, they won’t listen to me,” Daphne replies dryly.

“Sure they will. Or at least Theo will, and the other two dimwits will follow whatever he does.” Pansy replies.

“Theodore!” Daphne shouts, turning to the three boys who were waist deep in the water by this point.

“Bella?” He calls back, visibly perking up at the sight of your friend.

You watch with amusement as Daphne points a finger at the boy and then again at the ground next to her. Theo slowly sulks over to the four of you, Mattheo and Enzo following in his wake.

“Really Theodore? You’re sopping wet,” Daphne sighs, only to be met with a sheepish grin.

“Hey love,” Enzo greets, prancing over to stand beside you.

It takes everything in you to focus anywhere but Enzo’s soaking wet shirt as it clung to his chest and abdomen like a second, very see-through skin. Bloody hell.

“Hi Enzo,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure we’ll even find pearls here? I thought pearls were from the ocean, and I don’t want to risk getting wet for nothing,” Draco says, eyeing the lake warily.

“Hogwarts a History says that fresh water pearls are common in the Black Lake,” you reply.

“What’s the difference?”

“Saltwater pearls are generally rarer, more expensive.” Pansy replies easily.

“Fresh water mussels can produce multiple pearls at a time, but oysters generally only produce a single pearl in their entire lifetime,” you explain.

“So how exactly are we going to collect these mussels?” Theo asks.

“Accio.” Daphne responds, as if it should’ve been obvious. Which it was.

Your now rather large group makes it way onto the dock, squinting into the murky water for any trace of mussels in the sand below.

Daphne finds the first one, and after that, they slowly start pouring in. Eventually, there’s a sort of system in place with you, Daphne, Pansy, and Draco scanning the dark waves for the elusive mussels, while Theo, Mattheo, and Enzo crack them open to retrieve the pearls.

It’s all going swimmingly until the boys begin to get rowdy once more, with Mattheo sending a small wave of water at Enzo when his back is turned. Daphne gives the boys several warning glares as the waves gradually grow larger, only for them to start up again the moment your backs are turned.

Eventually it turns into an all out water war between the three of them once more, and you scowl as you feel a splash of water hit your leg.

Could they not cause a ruckus for one afternoon? You thought bitterly as another mussel flew into your hand. You go to place it in the pile with the others when you feel a weight hit you like a ton of bricks. Then cold. Everything is cold as you feel yourself hit the water.

“What the fuck!” You exclaim once your head breaks the surface and you frantically wipe water from your eyes.

You look over to see Lorenzo in the water near you, a grin plastered across his face. His smile quickly fades however when he sees the pure murderous intent in your eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” You shout, swimming over to him, and shoving him under the waves.

“Y/n! You can’t drown him!” Daphne yells from the dock.

“Watch me!”

“It was an accident, swear!” Enzo gasps when his head re-emerges once more.

With one last scream of rage, you make your way to land as Daphne runs to catch up with you.

“Seriously Daphne? What is wrong with him?” You rage as you storm up the hill back to the castle.

“I really don’t think he meant for you to get shoved into the lake. The boys can get pretty tunnel visioned,” Daphne offers as she follows behind.

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one who went for a swim,” you mutter between chattering teeth, the cold really beginning to sink in.

“Oh I’m not defending him. Not completely I mean. He was totally acting like a right git. The other boys too. I don’t blame you for being upset, I would be too. I’m just saying, maybe don’t be too hard on him? It was an accident after all, and he really did look sorry.”

When you only shrug in response, Daphne sighs.

“Look. Give him one last chance, and if you still think he’s the worst person on earth, at least exploit the fact that he really does feel bad, and milk it for all he’s worth. Okay?”

You let out a smile at this.

“Spoken like a true Slytherin, Daph.”

Bargaining

The following Monday when you take your seat next to Lorenzo in potions, he immediately turns his head, almost like he’s surprised you hadn’t demanded to be reassigned partners.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I really didn’t mean for you to end up in the lake, Theo just shoved me and I grabbed on the closest thing which happened to be you. I really am sorry,” he rambles, fiddling with the quill in his hand nervously.

“It’s okay. I know it was an accident, so let’s just move on, alright?” You say with a sigh.

Maybe if the both of you just moved on, this nightmare of a pairing would be over sooner.

“Really?” Lorenzo asks, his bright personality snapping back into place.

“Sure Enzo.”

“Excellent. Because I was able to get us these,” he says proudly, carefully pulling two little eggs and a medium sized moonstone out of his bag. “Oh, and the pearls.” He adds, placing the eggs, stone, and glass container filled with pearls on the table in front of you.

You eye the ingredients carefully before determining that they were in fact all up to standard.

“Perfect. I’ll begin crushing up the pearls, if you take care of the moonstone?” You say, already pouring the shiny orbs into your mortar and pestle.

The two of you work surprisingly well together for the rest of the class period, almost as if you’d been working together for years. It takes you by surprise how easy the brown haired boy is to work with. You hadn’t been expecting much, knowing that potions wasn’t Enzo’s strong suit. But he made up for it by making sure you never wanted for anything. Needed a vial for your pearl dust? It was in your hands before you even had to ask. A fire needed to be lit beneath the ashwinder eggs to keep them from spoiling? Enzo’s wand was pointed in their direction before you had the chance to open your mouth.

As class winds down and you go to make your exit, you feel a hand on your wrist.

“Y/n?” Enzo says, stopping you. You turn to look at the boy.

“Look uh, I know that you’re not my biggest fan, or at least that’s what I gathered from Daph,” he begins to ramble, scratching the back of his neck, “but, could we maybe like, just start over?”

You’re a bit skeptical at first, but seeing his nervous smile melts something in you. Being friendly couldn’t hurt, you reasoned. And it would certainly make working with the boy easier.

“Alright, Enzo, we can start over.”

“Wicked.” He says with a grin. “Don’t suppose you’d like to meet in the greenhouse later then to gather the rest of our ingredients? Promise I won’t drag Theo and Matt along this time.”

“Sounds lovely.”

The both of you agree to meet right after classes are released that day, and as you make your way down the cobblestone path to the greenhouse, you can’t seem to push the memories of wet hair and an infectious smile from your thoughts.

“Hi love!” Enzo calls out as soon as you push open the doors of the greenhouse. The boy is elbows deep in soil, pulling at the roots of a suspiciously pink colored plant.

“How’d you get here so fast?” you ask, glancing at the clock to see that classes had ended not even ten minutes ago.

“Herbology is my last class of the day,” he explains, brushing some of the dirt off his gloves.

“Ah. So you wanted to meet right after classes ended so you wouldn’t have to make the trek back out here?” You ask, fingertips brushing the soft petals of one of the many flowering plants growing within the greenhouse.

“Well, and I wanted to see you again sooner,” he replies with a shrug and a cheeky grin.

You roll you eyes as you feel your cheeks heat up, turning quickly and hoping he hadn’t seen.

“So where are the rose bushes?” You ask, looking around at the distinct lack of roses within the building.

Enzo gives a nervous chuckle. “About that. Apparently Professor Sprout didn’t think that the common rose was, ah, dangerous enough, for her plant collection,” Enzo says, gesturing towards the various plants, “so, uh, there are none. But! We can grow them pretty easily. It might take a week or two to grow a full bush to peak maturity, but it should be fine.”

You let out a sigh. Of course Hogwarts wouldn’t grow something as simple and common as a rose.

“Alright, well. Let’s begin I suppose.”

Enzo immediately perks up as he goes to fetch a large pot and a bag of soil and you begin to rifle through the cabinets to find rose seeds. After several minutes with no success, you feel a warm presence behind you as Enzo leans over your shoulder and plucks a packet off the top shelf.

“You certainly know your way around,” you murmur, looking up to find the boy’s face much closer than anticipated. You feel heat rise to your cheeks once more and you duck under is elbow, making your escape.

“Herbology is my best subject,” Enzo says, trailing behind you.

“Ah, so you’re the Slytherin version of Neville Longbottom then eh?” You say with a grin as you watch him fill the pot with soil.

Enzo grimaces, making a face.

“No, I’m much better looking,” he says with a smirk.

Bloody self-aware bastard.

It only takes a few minutes for Enzo to bury the seeds in the soil and place several incantations over the dirt before he looks up at you with a triumphant grin.

“All good to go,” he says happily. “Though we should probably check back in daily to refresh the enchantments and such.”

You nod your head at the boy.

Over the course of the next few days, Enzo uses your time spent together to pick your brain for any morsel of information he could get out of you. He really was determined to be your friend apparently.

“What’s your favorite plant?” He asks you on the third day of your little meetings.

You tilt your head a bit in consideration.

“No, no, wait, I bet I can guess. Is it peonies? Your perfume is peony scented right?” He asks.

“Yeah, it is. Peony and vanilla,” you say, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

“Knew it,” he says, looking rather self satisfied.

“And yours?” You ask, leaning against the table to look up at him.

“Hmm?”

“What’s your favorite flower? Or plant that is.”

Enzo pauses for a moment, eyes flickering around the greenhouse for a moment before landing on you.

“I like roses.”

“Really?” You say, scrunching your nose a bit.

“I’m a romantic, what can I say?”

“Gross. That’s so cliche.” You tease, a small smile gracing your face.

As the days go on, your time spent in the greenhouse becomes longer and longer as you and Lorenzo banter about the ridiculous questions he’d come up with. Did owls have knees? Which house would win in hand to hand combat? Were Theodore and Daphne secretly hooking up in the fifth floor prefect’s bathroom? (The answer was yes.)

You were shocked to find that, while still a bit of a prat, Enzo really was rather smart and witty. As the days went on, it became easier and easier to open up to the boy until the two of you were talking like old friends.

It happened slowly. You really didn’t even notice at first. But by the second week, you found yourself looking forward to your daily meetings, and found yourself thinking of the handsome brunette when he wasn’t around, and you caught yourself staring at the boy a bit too long after he’d already looked away.

Over the years of being friends with Daph, you’d often been forced into the proximity of the boy. Always noting the way he’d easily move from one witch to the next, his charm never seeming to fail him. You had been so determined to make sure that you would never be one of those witches. Just another tally on Lorenzo’s ever growing list of conquests.

But it had happened. The unimaginable. The impossible. You were falling for Lorenzo Berkshire. No, this simply wouldn’t do you thought to yourself as you made the familiar trek to the greenhouse.

Your mind raced as you thought of ways to stop this madness. Maybe if you went back to pushing the boy away. Or if you just ignored him. Yes. If you just shut him out, these feelings would go away.

Sarcasm

The next several days for Lorenzo were miserable. And that was putting it nicely.

“She hates me!” Enzo wailed dramatically, hanging upside down off the edge of his bed.

It had been three days since your terrifying revelation in the green house, and Enzo was very convinced that he was going insane.

He could still remember clearly the day that Daphne had introduced him to her new friend after one fateful day in herbology. You had been so wicked smart, and kind, and funny, and your smile had melted his heart. He was pretty sure he’d been in love with you ever since. But he was lucky if you even acknowledged his presence most days.

“Can you blame her? Didn’t you send a flock of peacocks after her when we were all visiting Draco’s last year?” Mattheo asks, squinting at his friend.

“I thought it’d be romantic! How was I supposed to know they weren’t friendly?”

“There’s also that time in third year, you knocked her off her broom playing quidditch.” Draco adds, scowling at the memory of Enzo harassing the birds on his family’s property.

“I caught her after!” Enzo protests.

“She still sprained her wrist.”

“Oh yea. And then you tried to give her a kiss as an apology, but ended up with a nice bruise on your jaw instead,” Mattheo laughs.

Lorenzo wasn't going to lie, that was a particular sore spot for him.

“And let’s of course not forget the most recent offense. Trying to drown her in the lake. Thank Salazar I wasn’t there for that scene.” Blaise mutters.

Enzo winces.

After the incident at the lake, Enzo was sure he was done for. The look of pure rage in your eyes had felt as though you had stomped on his heart, and then cruciod it for good measure. But then you had accepted his apology and even agreed to start things over. Enzo had felt the first real burst of hope after four pitiful years of pining.

Sure he’d made some missteps over the years. As his friends so graciously enjoyed reminding him, but he meant well!

The two of you had talked. Laughed. He’d even allowed his hand to brush up against yours a time or two, delighted when you didn’t flinch away.

And then, as if the switch had flipped, it was back how it had been before. Enzo felt like he had whiplash with the way you had turned right back around to treating him like a total stranger.

Theo eyed his roommate with concern.

“Bloody hell, he’s worse than you pining over Daphne,” Mattheo mutters, jabbing an elbow into Theo’s rib cage, earning him a sharp glare.

“I don’t understand! Things were going so well! She was actually talking to me and everything, and now it’s like I’m right back at square one,” Enzo sighs, ignoring his bickering roommates.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting from us mate. You’re supposed to be the romantic one of the group. Though with your track record, I’m not sure why we’ve been taking your advice all these years. You’re a wreck.” Blaise says, matter of factly.

“You tried talking to Daph bout it?” Theo asks, not quite sure how to help his slightly delirious friend.

“Ask me about what?” Daphne asks, seemingly materializing in the doorway of the boys’ shared dormitory.

She makes her way into the room, face morphing into one of both concern and disgust as she takes in Enzo's distraught state.

Theo eyes his friend, as if to say “good luck mate.”

Dragging himself into an upright position, Enzo considers the girl in front of him. How had he not thought of it before? Y/n’s best friend had been at his disposal this entire time, and he’d never thought to simply ask her.

Lorenzo turns to look at Daphne.

“Daph?”

“Yes Enz?”

“Does y/n fancy anyone?” He asks, trying to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible.

Daphne raises a brow.

“If you’re trying to subtly ask if I happened to know of her feelings towards you, you’re doing a lousy job."

Enzo pouts, sticking out his bottom lip and honestly looking quite pathetic.

"For Salazar's sake, what happened?" Daphne huffs, making herself comfortable on Theo's bed, much to his delight.

“Enzo is down bad. Obviously.” Mattheo states.

Daphne shoots the boy a glare, rolling her eyes at the curly haired boy.

"We've been working in the green house together, and I thought things were going so well. She was talking to me, and laughing and everything.” Enzo says, falling back into his bed dramatically.

“Well then what’s the problem? You like her I thought.” Daphne replies with an annoyed huff.

“That’s just it isn’t it? It wasn’t a problem. But then suddenly, a few days ago, she went completely cold again. Like the last couple weeks never happened." he laments.

Daphne opens her mouth. Then closes it, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath. For the love of- she loved you. Truly she did. But you were going to be the end of her.

“I’ll take care of this.” She announces, promptly rising from the bed just as Theo was about to sneak an arm around her.

He glowers at Enzo who gives him an apologetic grin.

Daphne had been your best friend for years at this point, and most of the time, she was convinced that she knew you better than you knew yourself. She wasn't blind. Or dumb for that matter. She knew that there were some strong feelings between you and Enzo, though she had never really bothered to figure out if they were positive or negative. Clearly she should've and all of this could have been avoided she thought wistfully to herself. At least this explained the strange tension between the two of you as of late.

“Y/n.” Daphne huffs, sitting next to you on a bench in the court yard.

“Daph,” you greet, looking up from your book.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you fancy Lorenzo?” She asks, staring you dead in the eye.

You feel your mouth gape like a fish out of water.

“Right Daph. Like I’d ever fancy that peacock.” You reply, doing your best to appear disdainful.

“Don’t you get an attitude with me.” Daphne responds. She’d always been able to see right through you. “Enzo told me everything. The chatting. The giggling. The immediate turn around as if nothing had happened. Textbook case of realizing you like someone while being emotionally constipated!” Daphne announces.

“Shhh!” You hush your friend, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed the scene. “You know that being mean and sarcastic is my only defense mechanism!” You hiss.

“Oh honestly y/n. We both know you won't be able to use that excuse forever.” Daphne says with a dramatic eye roll. “Besides, he likes you too. Why do you think he’s always preening when you’re around. He’s trying to impress you, you dolt.”

“Fantastic. He’s only a prat when I’m around. How romantic,” you mutter.

“Well you certainly didn’t think he was being a prat when you were spending all that time in the green house together. Don’t think I didn’t notice you two disappearing for several hours. No one is spending that much time every day looking at flowers.”

“We were just talking,” you defend.

“Mmhm. And then you stopped talking because you got scared and now Enzo is a wreck.”

You feel a pang of guilt. You hadn’t meant to hurt Enzo. You hadn’t thought that he actually might like you too.

“I’ll apologize tomorrow in class, I guess,” you mutter.

Daphne sighs.

“Look. I’m not saying that you have to date him, or even tell him you like him. But you’re both my friends, and I don’t like seeing either of you upset.”

“I know Daph. I’m just confused is all. I thought I hated him.”

“Well, I’ve always been told that the line between love and hate is fine.” Daphne replies.

Bloody hell, when had your friend become this philosophic?

“I’ll get it sorted tomorrow. Promise.” You tell her.

Daphne nods, giving you a comforting smile.

“Good. And word of advice. Drop the sarcasm, Enz might cry if you put him through anymore emotional whiplash.”

Acceptance

You sat nervously in the potions classroom having arrived close to fifteen minutes early as you couldn’t shake away your nerves. Glancing at the clock on the wall, your classmates should start filing in at any moment.

You’d finally managed to gather all the need ingredients for your potion, so today would be the day that you and Enzo would be able to brew your amortentia.

Your fingers twirled the stems of the roses you’d collected mindlessly as your thoughts buzzed between your conversation yesterday with Daphne, and the fluffy haired brunette boy that had taken up permanent residency in your every thought.

Remembering the silly game one of your roommates had played years ago, you began plucking the rose petals off of the stem, one by one. You were going to have to do it eventually anyway. He loves me, he loves me not, the phrase repeats in your mind.

“Look nervous,” A voice comments from behind you.

Startled out of your thoughts, you look up just in time to see Enzo take his seat beside you.

Clearing your throat, you give the boy a small smile.

“Just thinking about the potion. Not going to be an easy one to brew today, and I’d like to get a good mark,” you reply.

“Of course.” Enzo replies, a strained look on his face. “Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time then.”

You open your mouth to reply, but close it again when no words come to mind. Instead, you opt to sweep your rose petals into a small pile and begin shaving off the rose thorns as Enzo wordlessly takes out the gold cauldron, lighting a fire beneath.

“So,” you say awkwardly, the deafening silence finally getting to you. “How bout that weather?”

You hear a clatter as Enzo drops pestle he was holding to look at you incredulously.

“I know some of my conversation attempts were bad, but that was downright criminal.” He says with a snort.

Unable to hold back your laughter, you let out a giggle. “Yeah, I’ll see myself to Azkaban for that one.”

And just like that, the two of you fall back into your comfortable rhythm of idle chatter, jokes, bickering as you work seamlessly together.

You can’t help but watch with silent admiration as Enzo dutifully stirs the cauldron, careful to keep even counter clockwise strokes. A few tendrils of soft brown hair fall in front of the boy’s face and he gently blows them to the side with an annoyed puff.

“Pearl dust?” He asks, reaching his hand out.

As you hand him the vial, your fingertips brush softly, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. The heat from the cauldron must be really getting to you.

“If you just want to add the powdered moonstone, we should be all done,” Enzo says after a moment, taking a step back to allow you to complete the final step.

Slowly, you approach the boiling cauldron, carefully sprinkling in your meticulously measured moonstone powder. You stir the concoction a bit longer until you see a familiar pearlescent sheen and swirling tendrils of steam.

“Think we’ve done it,” you say with a smile, looking over at your partner.

He grins back, joining you in leaning over the steaming cauldron.

“Well? What do you smell?” He asks cheekily.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“We both take a wiff? On three?” Enzo asks.

You nod in agreement, watching the swirling colors within the cauldron. They say that amortentia smells like the things you’re most attracted to, and you’d always been curious what scents the potion would elicit for you.

“One, two, three.”

You lean in, and immediately you’re hit with the earthy scent of fresh soil, a soft hint of rose, and something else- oh. Oh. You feel your eyes widen.

“Peony. And vanilla.” Enzo murmurs, head still hovering above the cauldron before he turns to look at you.

The moment your eyes meet, you both know.

“I need a moment,” you mumble, hurrying out of the classroom.

As you rush past Daphne’s table, you hear the girl run after you into the corridor.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Daphne asks as the two of you come to a stop in a small alcove that’s somewhat hidden behind one of the many large stone statues that decorate the halls.

“It’s Lorenzo. My potion- it smells like Lorenzo. Or, it smells like fresh soil, and roses, and that stupid expensive cologne that he always wears,” you gasp, out of breath.

“Oh? And what did he smell?”

“Me. My perfume. Peonies and vanilla.”

“Well, that’s good then isn’t it? That you both smelled each other? I know when we talked yesterday I said you don’t necessarily have to tell the boy you fancy him, but, if you both really like each other that much. What’s the harm?” Daphne tries to reason.

“I don’t know! I just didn’t realize I liked him that much and it freaked me out. And I’ve been icing him out these past couple days, so he’s probably so cross with me. But he’s been so nice today, I don’t know what to do Daph. I’m not good with feelings. I was never going to act on anything!”

“Is that why you did all that? Back there?” A voice asks. “And why you’ve been acting strange the past several days?”

The two of you whip around to see Enzo staring wide eyed at the both of you, mouth slightly agape.

“I think I’d best let the two of you sort this out,” Daphne says, slipping out of the alcove and back into the classroom.

“I’m sorry, you weren’t meant to hear any of that,” you start as Enzo wordlessly approaches.

“You like me?” He asks once he’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. He looks genuinely surprised at the notion as he stares down at you intensely.

You nod slowly. “Smelled you in that bloody potion,” you mumble.

Enzo’s smile falls.

“Is it that bad? Liking me?” He asks, hurt written across his face.

“No! No it’s not! I just thought I didn’t like you- no, that’s not what I meant. I was surprised that I fancied you is all, and didn’t know what to do. Because we’ve know each other so long, and we haven’t necessarily always gotten along. And I didn’t really realize I liked you at first, and I got all freaked out and then I panicked, and-“

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” Enzo asks, interrupting your rambling.

You freeze, looking up at the boy in front of you.

“Yes please,” you murmur.

Without wasting another moment, Enzo’s lips meet yours with a hunger and passion you didn’t realize the boy had in him.

Any last trace of doubt or worry you had disappears as his soft lips move against yours, melting you into him like putty in his hands.

Right as you’re about to run out of air, you feel Enzo’s lips trail off to your cheek, placing gentle kisses as he trails down to your jaw, and then your neck.

“Enz,” you mumble softly as you feel the warm, sucking sensation against your skin in the crook of your neck.

“Shh,” he whispers, lips meeting yours once more.

You feel yourself getting lost in the sensation as he moves against you until Daphne’s voice brings you back to reality once more.

“Just so you’re both aware, we are still in class,” she calls from around the corner.

You feel your cheeks heat up as Enzo lets out a soft laugh above you.

“Rest assured love, we will be coming back to this later,” he says before placing a kiss on your forehead and leading you back into the classroom.

If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I’ll take any excuse to write a cheesy amortentia fic🤪

Special thanks to @finalgirllx and @pizzaapeteer for editing and rvwing🫶🏽

#hogmarch challenge #slytherin boys #harry potter universe #slytherin #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #matteo riddle #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #Enzo Berkshire x y/n #daphne greengrass #pansy parkinson #amortentia #mattheo riddle #theo nott

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alexialuvrr · 2 months

Text

I Put My Hand On A Star, To See If I Still Bleed

Alexia isn't playing well after returning from her injury and needs to feel something.

(AU where Arsenal and Barça are in the same group in the 2023/24 UWCL)

CW: smut, sub!alexia because there isn't enough of it in this world, strap-on, lil bit of blood

Back during the 2021/2022 season, you and Alexia would hook up all the time. She barely spoke English and you barely spoke Spanish, but during an Arsenal V Barça game, you both felt an attraction for the first time, a connection, and that connection turned into a hook up at a hotel after the game. This happened again after the teams' next meeting, and after that, whenever you were in Spain or she was in England for whatever reason, you two would meet up and hook up at some hotel, always in secret. This was never spoken about between the two of you, whenever you were at award shows, you'd see eachother, perhaps make casual conversation with as much of the other's language as you could, but almost always in the company of other players.

It'd been over a year since the two of you had hooked up, you'd seen eachother at the Euros, but her injury kept you two from doing you usual thing, and there was far too much going on at the World Cup for you two to do it either.

The next time you saw eachother was in a Champions League group stage match in Barcelona. She looked different, her hair was platinum blonde, she looked older, more mature, and the innocence that was in her eyes before was gone. It worried you a little, it made you sad to see her like that, clearly in emotional pain, but there was something about it that attracted you to her- that loss of innocence. She had always been older than you, a good ten years older than you, but you never really noticed it until now, her maturity was showing and you liked it. Everything about the way she looked had lost its innocence, had changed since you last saw her. You didn't know exactly why you liked it so much, why it turned you on so much, but it did.

She scored in the second half after a string of missed shots. It wasn't a brilliant goal, but it was a goal all the same. You watched her as she celebrated, no smile crossed her face like it used to, and as she turned away from the crowd you saw a look of deep contemplation in her eyes as she looked down-

She knew she wasn't in form, not that she could expect to be so soon, but it was still hurting her. She wanted a better goal, several goals. A better game.

Katie scored a few minutes later, bringing the scoreline level, until Aitana scored in the 68th minute, and the match ended like that, Barça 2-1 Arsenal.

You shook hands and hugged after the match, you asked her if she was okay, you hadn't seen her smile the entire time, not even after the final whistle. She hesitated before nodding, and then leaned in closer to you before whispering "What hotel are you in?"

You told her the name of your hotel, as well your room number, letting her know you could do it there. You were lucky that you were rooming alone on this trip, last time you'd had to fuck Alexia in another hotel a few miles away from the team's, and you barely made it back in time before they noticed you were gone.

"No roommate?" she asked.

"No, we have the room to ourselves, the whole night."

"Ten O'Clock." she said.

"I'll see you then."

She ran her hand across your waist as she walked away, the first touch of affection you'd gotten from her in a long time, and you needed it. You missed that feeling more than anything, it was like a drug- the strongest drug you'd ever had.

Ten O'Clock couldn't come soon enough. There was still half an hour to go. You were talking with the girls in Leah's room, and you couldn't stop glancing at your watch, lamenting how slowly the hands were moving.

"Why do you keep checking your watch?" Katie asked.

You looked up, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Um, I dunno," you were panicking, "I think it's broken, the hands aren't moving right, I'm gonna go get my digital one."

This was a lie of course, there was nothing wrong with your watch, but you did need to get out of the room for a moment and make sure everything was ready in yours.

You opened the door to find Alexia on the bed, who sat up quickly as the door opened.

"What are you doing here? It's not ten yet."

Alexia didn't say anything, instead she quickly lifted herself off the bed and walked towards you pulling you in for a kiss, her hands grabbing your shirt just below the collar. The kiss was eager and breathy, passionate, and it became clear to you why she was early. You pulled her body in closer, with your hands on the back of her waist. Her lips moved to your neck, making you lose your breath for a moment, her movements still eager and passionate. You toyed with the hem of her shirt, subtly asking for permission, before she took it off herself, tossing it aside. She quickly unbuttoned yours and pulled it off you by running her hands over your shoulders and underneath the fabric, admiring how muscular you were, more so than the last time you'd met. She wasn't the only one who looked more mature.

A slight pause in her movements led you to pick her up and place her on the desk at the side of the room, your hands roamed her thighs as you stood in-between them, and you began to tug at the fabric that was still covering them as you kissed her. As you did, her arms left the position of being wrapped around your neck and travelled down your torso, one landing on your waist and the other over your crotch. Her breath hitched and she pulled away from the kiss as she felt the bulge of what you were packing. It was big, bigger than anything she'd taken before, and she liked that, she needed that. Her eyes darkened sensually, and she gripped it tighter, causing a wave of pleasure to move through you. You backed away from the desk pulling her off of it so she could remove her trousers as you undid your belt and removed yours. She sat herself back on the desk and pulled you in towards her lips. You kissed down her neck and her chest, moving her to lean back slightly as you dipped a finger into her core- she was more than wet enough, it was beginning to coat the insides of her thighs so you knew she needed to be fucked more than anything.

"You ready?" you asked, your voice low.

"Yes." she said, breathlessly, needily. You loved when she spoke English, her strong accent made it so sensual.

You kissed her softly once more before looking down, you held her by the hips and slowly put your cock in her and she groaned at the pain as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you right into her body. Her whimpers and moans turned you on more than anything, you loved how she sounded when you fucked her. The raw skin on skin contact felt incredible, you loved feeling this close to her, you needed it. With you inside her and her legs wrapped around your waist, you picked her up again and placed her down gently on the bed. You sped up and her whimpers turned into whines, echoing around the room. She bit her lip to try and stop herself, but it didn't help. You slowed down and increased the pressure and depth of your thrusts, which turned her whines into loud, open-mouthed moans. You kissed up her neck and her cheek as you fucked into her, knowing that she would appreciate the intimacy now, given what you were about to do.

You knew how she liked to be fucked, and how she wanted to be fucked, even if she hadn't said it, that was part of your connection, you just knew.

You pulled out of her slowly and whispered in her ear, "Turn over."

She did as she was told, turning over to lay on her stomach. You admired the view infront of you, her muscular back, her thighs, and the best ass you'd ever seen.

You slipped it back in her again, and she moaned, gripping the bedsheets as she did, her hands above her head.

You lowered yourself onto her back, getting that raw skin on skin contact as you rubbed together that you both loved so much.

The friction on her back made her seek friction on her front, desperate for some pressure on her clit, making her moans and whimpers grow louder with overstimulation.

"Shh sh sh." you whispered, stroking her hip, remembering that the other girls were in the room next door.

She quietened slightly, biting the bed sheets.

"That's it, you can take it, you're doing really well." You praised, and she really did deserve it.

"Get up on you knees for me." you said.

She always did as she was told when you had her like this.

She got up on her knees quickly, her back arching and her arms out infront of her, grasping the bed sheets.

"I'm sorry princesa, this is really going to hurt."

You took your cock out, noticing how it was glistening, covered in her arousal, and you slipped it in her ass. She was much tighter there, and you could feel it as you fucked into her. She cried out in both pain and pleasure, and she quickly propped herself up from her elbows onto her hands, unsure how to deal with the intensity of it all. Even between gasps and moans, her mouth remained open.

"You're okay, I've got you." you said, holding onto her hips and rubbing gently with your thumb.

She whimpered, nodding slightly, then dropping her head.

"Good girl."

You kissed up her spine and placed gentle, soft kisses on her hips. Her breathing was shaky and tears began to run down her cheeks, but she didn't want you to stop, not for one second. She hadn't felt this much in months, and she needed it.

You sped up, seeing her body rock back and forth, under your complete and total control, was beautiful. She was beginning to bleed, but she showed no signs of wanting to stop, and you found beauty in that too.

Blood and arousal were dripping onto the bedsheets, not that you cared, all that you cared about was pleasuring Alexia. Seeing her cry from pain and ecstasy was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, she'd moved back to holding herself up on her elbows and had her hands clasped together, trying to cope with the pain and overstimulation. After a few minutes, you could tell she was getting used to that pain, as her whines and whimpers turned into moans.

You decided it was time to add to her pleasure by placing two fingers into her core. She gasped at their sudden presence, but she was soaked from the inside out and her dripping cunt welcomed you without any resistance.

She moaned in pure ecstasy at your movements inside her, as you were stroking gently with a steady pace matching the one you were fucking her ass with.

Her reactions were becoming more erratic and you knew she was close. She moved her arm from it's position of support and held onto your wrist and hand, pushing you further inside her slightly and giving her more pressure on her clit, as she let her forehead fall to the bed. She was purely in pursuit of pleasure. She looked so gorgeous this way, totally at the mercy of her own body.

You leant down onto her back again.

"You ready to come for me princesa?" you said, pressing open mouth kisses against her back, dragging your teeth across her skin, leaving red marks.

"Ye- yes, please." she said, breathlessly

"Such a good girl, aren't you Ale?" you said, smiling. The question was rhetorical, and she knew that, she knew it was just to remind her of what made her a good girl- being fucked bloody and teary-eyed, crying in pleasure on her knees, desperately holding your hand inside her with your palm against her clit.

She moaned one last time, her jaw slack, eyes closed, head thrown back then dropped forward as her back arched and her legs shook. You slapped her ass hard as she came, adding to her waves of pleasure as you came a moment later. Both yours and Alexia's movements continued through her orgasm as you let her ride it out.

"Look at you, you did so well." you smiled, you were so proud of her, she'd never taken it like that before.

You pulled out of her and discarded the strap, tossing it onto the chair.

She turned around to face you, sitting on the bed with you kneeling in front of her. She wiped tears from her eyes and noticed the bed sheets.

"Did I bleed?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"Yeah, you did." you replied, helping her wipe the tears away.

She was still shaking so you pulled her close to you, her head resting on your chest, and you began stroking her hair as she closed her eyes and a final few tears fell gently down her face.

You helped her off the bed as she winced and whimpered from the pain of moving.

"It's okay," you reassured her "it'll hurt less tomorrow."

She held onto you tightly as you helped her move. You pulled back the duvet and helped her lay down slowly. Her breathing was heavy and her whimpers didn't stop. You loved seeing her like this. You got into the bed yourself and pulled the duvet up to cover the pair of you. As soon as you did, she rolled over, seeking contact and comfort from you. She placed a long soft kiss on your lips before laying her head on your chest and placing her hand beside her face, her palm on your skin, right over your heart. She kept her legs closed, it being too painful to open them, and you placed one hand on her back, stroking up and down slowly, and letting the other just rest on her waist. You were both exhausted, and you fell asleep quickly after that.

You were awoken the next morning by the sound of the girls talking next door. You checked the time, it was half past ten, you'd slept for nearly twelve hours. It was then that Katie and Leah suddenly walked into your room, you quickly pulled the duvet over Alexia's head- it was still obvious that you had a woman in bed with you, but at least they wouldn't know who it was, or so you had thought until you remembered there was a jacket with a Barcelona logo on it slung over the chair, which you saw Leah notice as Katie was looking at you.

"So this is why you didn't come back to Leah's room last night- I shoulda known." Katie laughed.

"C'mon Katie, let's leave them be." Leah smiled. Always the more mature out of the pair.

You pulled the duvet back down, revealing Alexia's face, you ran a hand through her platinum blonde hair, and smiled.

#woso #woso fanfics #woso community #womens football #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso smut #woso imagine #woso x reader

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

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omg i have an idea

eddie x reader

shes gareths best friend & eddie always liked her

she would show up to their performances & campaigns for eddie but eddie thinks she likes gareth so eddie starts bringing a new girl & he chases reader away , she stops showing up to everything & gareth is upset with eddie, fluffy at the end

Ugh I love a good Eddie being stupid and bringing new girls around

Y/N had the biggest crush on Eddie Munson ever since she met Gareth. Eddie and Gareth were always together and did everything together. It was impossible to see Gareth and not run into Eddie. She didn't stand a chance. And Gareth being a best friend, teased her for it.

"do you think you'll ever actually play on the campaign or sit and drool over Eddie the whole time?" Gareth mocked as they walked towards the drama room.

"shut up. I do not" she scoffed, smacking his shoulder.

"oh come on! I think once I actually saw drool on your chin. The day he wore that silver chain on his neck!" Gareth pointed out, laughing as she tried to hide her face

"okay that wasn't fair. He can't wear a chain and hang over the table and just let it dangle there. That was like.... shut up!"

Gareth laughed harder as she tried to walk faster, he was hot on her feet, preparing to tease her even more

"you so had a wet dream about that didn't you?"

"GARETH!" she screamed shocked. Her face heated up because she in fact did have a very wet dream about that chain.

The two were laughing and pushing each other as they walked into Hellfire. In their own little world, not noticing someone new at the table

Eddie stiffened as the two walked through the door. Watching as they laughed and pushed each other. Flirting with no care in the world. Eddie had a huge crush on Gareth's best friend. He can't even remember when his crush started but it's been way too long. Every time he wanted to make a move he was reminded that she was Gareth's girl and he could never do that to his best friend.

He needed to move on and forget her. Sitting and watching the two whisper and her getting flustered was breaking him down. He knew he should talk it out with Garreth. Gareth has had years to make her his, there was something stopping him. Eddie definitely had a fair shot but it was so easy to tell that Y/N stuttered and got shy whenever Gareth's lips were near her ear.

"if you two want to stop giggling. We have someone new" Eddie snapped. The two finally looked up. Shock on both of their faces as their eyes went to Eddie's left, a beautiful brunette sitting with a smile.

Gareth looked from the girl who's hand was on Eddie's arm, to Eddie, to his best friend. Watching as Y/N swallowed the biggest lump in her throat.

"maybe it's not what we think" Gareth whispered into her ear, smiling and throwing his arm over her shoulder. Walking her towards the table as she was frozen in her spot

Eddie felt his jaw clench when Gareth whispered in her ear, throwing his arm on her. Eddie answered their actions with his own. His large hand making its way on the girl's shoulder. Wrapping his arm and practically shoving her in his chest.

Y/N tried to avert her eyes away but her brain forced her to watch. Gareth sighed next to her, questioning Eddie with his eyes. Gareth was so going to kill the long haired bastard.

Eddie spent the whole camping ignoring her existence. Gareth glared at Eddie every time he looked in his direction. Y/N sat silently and watched as Eddie flirted with the gorgeous new girl. Insecurity filling her body the more she compared herself to her.

After the hard challenge of watching hellfire last night, Y/N still wanted to attend the band's performance. She wore her merchandise and got in her car. She held her breath as she pulled up to the bar.

She made her way to her usual spot at the front booth near the stage. Waiting patiently for the boys to come on

"Y/N right? It's Erin!" Y/N felt her body deflate as Erin smiled and sat down. Her perfect body was framed by a tight deep red dress. A dress that she knew Eddie would be on his knees for. She tried to shrug it off, smiling at Erin. She hated how perfect this girl was for Eddie. The alternative look just fits her so well. It wasn't like she had to try at all.

Once the band was cleared off stage, Y/N was met with silence again. Erin quickly filling it

"so!..." She trailed off

The awkwardness was obvious

"you and Eddie huh?" Y/N asked, trying to sound supportive and interested. Trying to ignore the pain of Eddie being with someone else.

"like together? No. We just have hot sex" Erin shrugged, throwing back her drink

Y/N felt herself clench her eyes. The blow hit her way harder than she wanted it to. Good news, they weren't dating. But bad news, he was fucking her. He was kissing her. He was being intimate with her. Doing the shit she dreamed about

"oh..right" Y/N said quietly. Holding her full glass as she tried not to cry

"There she is" Eddie teased, grabbing Erin by her jaw and shoving his tongue down her throat. Y/N looked away as fast as she could. Trying to block out the sounds of the groaning.

She sighed in relief when Gareth walked over. Grabbing her hand silently and yanking her out of the booth

"you don't need to watch that" he snapped, dragging her to the bar, as far away from Eddie as Gareth could.

"he's fucking her Gareth. Look at her! She's practically from a porno magazine"

"stop. I know what you are thinking and she's nowhere near better than you. He's just being dumb " Gareth knew Eddie liked Y/N, which is why he doesn't understand what the fuck Eddie was doing.

"no he's not. He likes her and is having fun. I never made a move so no harm done. The blonde at the end has been staring at you since last week. Go have fun, I think I'm going to go home" she said, giving him a hug.

Gareth pulled away with a sad smile "he's going to regret this you know"

She laughed and shook her head in disagreement. Pushing him towards the blonde.

Taking a deep breath she walked towards Eddie and Erin. Forcing her legs to move closer as Eddie groped her in public

"hey Eddie?" She coughed loud

Eddie pulled away, lips covered in deep red lipstick

"what's up?" He asked breathless. His eyes looking at her, growing worried as she looked seconds away from crying

"I'm not feeling good so I'm going home. But I wanted to say good job tonight...as always. I'll see you tomorrow" she smiled and quickly moved out of the bar as fast as she could.

Eddie watched her confused. Eyes searching the bar for Gareth, growling as he watched Gareth kissing a random blonde

"she looked really upset" Erin spoke outloud

"yeah...I think I know why" Eddie snapped. Eyes never leaving Gareth.

After that night Y/N decided it was best to not attend hellfire or go to the gigs. It was too hard to watch Eddie and Erin. She accepted it, nothing she could do. Eddie was single and free to have sex with whoever he wanted.

"it's been a week, are you sure you don't want to come?" Gareth asked softly.

"no I think I'll go home and study. Plus Bethany told me she's excited to watch you play. I don't want to third wheel" she joked

Gareth smiled and nodded

"I get it. I'm sorry he's doing this" Gareth said kissing her forehead. He felt horrible for his best friend. Always hyping her up to ask Eddie out because he knew Eddie felt the same. Now he had to watch his best friend fall apart.

Eddie felt his body stiffen as Gareth walked in with the blonde from the bar

Y/N hadn't been to hellfire or their gigs for a week, and all because Gareth decided to spend his time with Bethany.

"you are unbelievable" Eddie snapped, not waiting a second to get in Gareth's face

"what?" Gareth scoffed

"is she why Y/N refuses to come around now? How can you do that to her! Lead her on and shove your tongue down Bethany's throat and leave her in the dust!"

"Eddie trust me you have no fucking idea what you are talking about" Gareth growled. Eddie was the one to blame not him

"oh please! We all know she's in love with you!" Eddie hated saying it outloud. A reminder why he could never be with her

"IT'S NOT ME THAT'S BREAKING HER HEART" Gareth screamed. Eddie doesn't get to break her heart and try to blame other people for it.

"THEN WHO IS?"

"YOU MUNSON. SHE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU"

'"she's what?" Eddie choked out

The room was silent. Everyone watched as the two fought back and forth. The confession on Gareth's tongue sat in the air

"she loves you Eddie. And she couldn't handle seeing you and Erin together so she left. You happy? Fucking asshole" Gareth snapped, grabbing Bethany's hand and leaving the room

One by one the room cleared out. Eddie stood frozen in the same spot. Blinking and trying to figure out what Gareth just told him

"do you like her?" Erin asked softly from behind him

"no...I'm pretty sure I love her" Eddie admitted out loud for the first time. Hands shaking as he rubbed his face

"god I fucked up so bad" he groaned, throwing himself in his chair

"look, if she's truly in love with you she's not going to be over you that fast. She might be hurt right now but if you clear the air and fix it, I think she'll forgive you. All you did was hookup with someone else. You didn't know she had feelings for you. Don't beat yourself up over it" Erin advised, patting Eddie on the hand as she got up

"it was fun Munson. Now go get the girl" a smile on her lips as she went out the door.

"YOU TOLD HIM!" Y/N screamed as she smacked Gareth over and over

"it slipped out I'm sorry!" He apologized, trying to dodge all of her hits.

The two froze when her doorbell went off. She raced to the window to see Eddie's van parked in the street

"oh my god it's him" she panicked

"good! This is what you need" Gareth said, racing to the front door

"DON'T OPEN IT!"

He ignored her and yanked open the door

Eddie smiled softly, eyes looking behind him as she came running down the stairs

The second she made eye contact she sighed. It was now or never.

"fix it dick" Gareth spit out as he went around Eddie to walk out the door

Eddie coughed and shut the door behind him

"Gareth told me some things I was very unaware of and I'm sorry. I hate that I hurt you"

"you didn't know. I refused to tell you so I'm not mad at you for hooking up with Erin. You are single and are allowed to do single people things"

She said shrugging

"doesn't mean you deserve to be forced to see it. I shouldn't have rubbed it in your face. I was being stupid and jealous" he admitted. His brown eyes refusing to leave her eyes

"jealous? Of what?"confusion written all over her face

"I thought you liked Gareth. I thought you were head over heels in love with him and that he loved you too. I've had these feelings for you since forever and it hurt watching you flirt and whisper into each other. I acted out of jealousy and wanted to show that I can move on"

"we actually whispered about my embarrassing crush on you" she laughed awkwardly. Eddie smiled at the confession. Stomach doing flips that they talked about how much she liked him

"were you successful?" She asked once her laughing died down

"about what?" Eddie asked. He wasn't sure what she was asking

"moving on from me?" Her nervous eyes searched all over his face. Swallowing another lump in her throat.

"not in the slightest. I don't think it's possible to move on from you" he admitted, stepping closer to her body

Moving a hand up her arm to her cheek. She was soft and warm. Exactly what Eddie thought she would be

"me too" she breathed out. Moving her body so it was pressed against his. She loved how hard his chest was and his hot breath.

"I'm in love with you" he said into her lips, inches away from connecting himself to her

"I love you too" her breath leaving her lungs as Eddie pressed his lips into hers. Grabbing her hips and pushing her harder against him. She groaned and pushed him against the door. Her hands are working up his chest. A finger hooking around his chain necklace. Desperately clinging on to each other. Whimpering into each other's mouths.

"come back to hellfire and our gigs?" He asked, pulling away just an inch. Forehead pressed into hers

"if you keep wearing the chain" she smirked, yanking the silver necklace and crashing her lips on his again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming

@eddiemunsonsbitch69

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff

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kennedyswhore · 9 months

Text

grief.

summary: the five stages of grief recorded as five short tape logs from leon as he deals with an event involving you.

content: leon kennedy x gender neutral!reader, angst, grief, death, alcoholism, self-destructive behavior, isolation, depression, bad eating habits

notes: literally not even joking i had to take a break multiple times while writing this bc i couldn't stop crying for some reason. you can imagine any versions of leon, i had one of the older ones in my mind while writing this hence his alcoholism. dedicated to @emilzke!

words: 3.3k

recording log number one, denial. the first of the five stages of grief. in this stage, the world becomes meaningless and overwhelming. life makes no sense. his reality has shifted completely. it can take his mind time to adjust to his new reality. he reflects on the experiences he has shared with you, and he might find himself wondering how to move forward in life without you. he wonders how he can go on, if he can go on, why he should go on.

leon picked up the handheld recorder and turned it on, letting out a heavy sigh. not too long ago, his therapist had recommended recording his feelings to get to know his emotions better, hoping that the act of voicing his thoughts would help bring him some sort of inner peace. but both his and the therapist's hopes was in vain, as the words he uttered only served to remind him of his brokenness.

he has been doing nothing but avoiding every single one of his responsibilities, his apartment messy with bottles of alcohol everywhere. he avoided work calls, calls from his friends, or the knocks in his door. he didn't want to do anything, he couldn't bear to see the world outside without you in it. ever since you died, he had been fantasizing someone will call to say there’s been a mistake and nothing really happened to you, that it was a big, a very big cruel joke.

“log number...” leon paused, his eyes darting around the dim-lit room as he fiddled with the sticker on the tape. “number one.”

“i don't know why i bother with these tapes. maybe it's just another way to drown out the silence in my head.” he paused, taking a swig from the half-empty bottle beside him. the alcohol provided a fleeting sense of comfort, but it couldn't extinguish the burning weight that burdened his soul.

he pressed the bottle to his lips again, swallowing hard before going on. “it's been a month since...” he trailed, a part inside of his brain screaming for him to stop continuing that sentence. to stop remembering the sight of your lifeless body in his arms. “... but i miss you so damn much already.”

“do you remember the time i didn't go to work just to stay in bed some more time with you?” a bitter chuckle escaped his lips. the weight of his experiences weighs heavily on leon's heart, manifesting as a fog of melancholy that envelops him. his mind drifts back to the days when he had you by his side, now, it feels like he's just a shell of sorrow, burdened by the weight of the memories of you. “i etched that moment, and many more to my heart, my love. don't worry, your sweet scent is still right on my nostrils. i didn't clean the bed sheets where you slept right next to me either, or throw anything that resembles even the tiniest bit of you.”

the alcohol burned his throat after he took an another sip. only a few weeks ago, leon had promised his significant other, you, that he wouldn't drink again. the memory of your hopeful smile when he made that pledge replayed in his mind like a broken record. but tonight, the thoughts had clawed its way back into his mind, and he sought refuge in the numbing embrace of alcohol. the bottle offered an escape, but all it did was dim the pain momentarily, and when he sobered up, it was worse than before.

“i loved when you made me pancakes the morning after an another night of a grueling mission, i loved the way your lips curled into a smile, and most of all, i loved the way you were a breath of fresh air to me.”

he took a deep breath, his weary eyes scanning the room as if searching for the right words. “i... i don't know how much longer i can hold on. the alcohol honestly isnt helping much anymore.”

his dry lips slightly parted away, but the words he wanted to let out didn't bother to escape his lips. his tears threatened to fall, and with a shake of his head, he clicked the tape to stop the recording.

recording log number two, anger. a necessary stage of the healing process. it's something to hold onto; and a connection made from the strength of anger feels better than nothing. the anger is just another indication of the intensity of his love. he feels suddenly angry at inanimate objects, strangers, friends. he feels angry at life itself. it’s not rare to also feel anger towards the person he lost. rationally, he might understand you aren't to blame. emotionally, however, he resents you for causing him pain and for leaving him.

“log number two.” leon says in a low and painful tone, sitting at the wooden chair, his hands resting on the messy table filled with empty glasses, dirty plates and random objects that used to be yours.

it has been only a two and half a week since the anger of the pain your death had caused took him over. he would get mad at the little things, silent curse words would leave his lips whenever he saw a piece of your clothing or something you frequently used. not even mentioning when he heard an artist you both loved listening to, his anger got the best of him when that happened.

“i hate you for leaving me in this empty apartment that will always be longing for your presence in it,” he gripped the recording cassette for his dear life, his fingertips becoming red from the amount of pressure, but he couldn't care less.

his eyebrows twitched as his eyes drifted towards the countless of bottles he had consumed. “you were the one who got me through everything, the first person that made me stop drinkin' for a while. well, i did listen to you. until you died. it doesn't make sense to keep that promise, now does it? if you were here now, my lips wouldn't have been drenched in liquor again. this is your fault.”

right when he was about to continue his sentence, he let out a frustrated sigh at the sound of his phone ringing right on the table next to the empty tapes. he looked at who the hell is calling him this time from the corner of his eyes.

“Chris, fantastic.” his eye shifts back to the cassette he is gripping tightly, ignoring the call, speaking bitterly as the tape recorded his every word. “did you know that i told him to fuck off a few days ago? he's been following me around whenever i step a foot outside to get a stiff drink. it's like i have no personal space at all. i also think his rambles about how you affect me is non-sense, no, straight up bullshit. he is not even helping me, and he sucks at it if he's trying.”

he frowns at the way he lead the topic to Chris without meaning to, trying to change it back, because this was the reason he was talking to the silence, a damn recording tape the whole time. you. you, you, only because of you.

“as i said, you were there when i was at my lowest. that little, bright, stupid smile of yours always managed to get me through an another day back then.” he shook his head, his free hand rubbing his temple in an attempt to calm down the thoughts in his head, but he fails miserably. “i got better, thanks to you. but you fucking disappeared, and that fucked up my life to the top, like how my life was before i met you. and now i feel like i'm stuck in a damn loop everyday. i'm right to blame you for all of this that's happening to me right now, i'm damn right.”

recording log number three, bargaining. after a loss, bargaining takes the form of a temporary truce. he becomes lost in a maze of “if only…” or “what if…” statements. he wants his life returned to what is was; he wants his loved one restored.

“log number...” leon trails off after clicking to the tape, staring at the window as he stood there with the third cassette in his hand, his eyes catching a couple that giggled together as they crossed the street. if he had called you before over for a romantic dinner together, before that happened... would he be able to walk along the streets with you now? giggling, making one of his cheesy jokes━that only you laughed at━ and intertwining your hands together, would that happen if he prevented the grim reaper from stealing his precious?

“three,” he breathes out as a single teardrop falls from his eye. “log number three.”

“you always hated when i got protective over you,” he sniffles, his free hand wiping the tears that is slowly streaming down his weary face. “told me that you were able to carry yourself on your own, that you could handle yourself. but look at what happened.”

he found himself slumping down to the ground, his vision becoming blurry as his eyes got more watery, a few drops of his salty tears entering his lips as tears spilled all over the cassette he is holding.

“is this the way god punishs me? taking you away from me? punishing me for not being able to save the innocents lost?” he is a crying mess by now, the painful lump in his throat making it extra hard to speak.

he repeats the same sentence over and over with a shaky voice, “i'm so sorry...” the moonlight glimmers on his tear-filled face as he apologizes into the cassette as if you're in there and you could hear him.

“if i had more time and another day, i would tell you repeatedly just how much i love you.” his voice was not above a whisper as a wave of guilt washes over him. “if i could turn back time, we would go and visit that cat cafe you wanted to visit for a long time. i'm sorry that i only wanted to stay at home on that day, it was right when i got out of a shitty mission.” his lips curls into a bittersweet smile as he sniffles, “i would take so many pictures of you with adorable kittens in your arms. i would definitely tease you about how you were cuter than all of them, incredibly cute.”

right when he imagines a scenario of you that distracted his mind, the reality sinks in again as he felt a pang in his heart. “i wish you were still here with me. i would have done anything to save you.”

recording log number four, depression. empty feelings present themselves, and grief enters his life on a deeper level, deeper than he ever imagined. this depressive stage feels as though it will last forever. he withdraws from life, left in a fog of intense sadness, wondering, perhaps, if there is any point in going on alone? why go on at all?

recording and letting out his emotions and thoughts didn't help. if anything, it got worse.

the pain still felt raw and fresh. he doesn't know how he has made it this far without you beside him each day and night. his heart longs for what has been lost, and waves of sadness crash over like relentless tides. memories flood his mind, both cherished and painful, intertwining with regrets and what-ifs. he isolated himself, withdrawing from others as social interactions became emotionally taxing.

a deep sense of emptiness and hopelessness takes root, sapping the energy and will to engage in even the simplest of tasks. leon experiences a profound fatigue that seems to permeate every fiber of his being, making it an arduous effort to get out of bed each morning.

he has been having dreams of you coming and comforting him, talking with him, caressing his hair. and oh, it felt so real. so real to the point where he didn't want to wake up from his dreams to a new day at all, always taking naps throughout the days, forcing himself to sleep relentlessly, clinging to the tiniest bit of hope to see you again. he continued this for a long time, he lost count of the months himself.

his eating habits worsened as well. since he slept most of the day, avoiding the life outside his apartment━that once both of you shared━ he didn't even feel like eating anything. maybe on a good day, in which he considers the day where you appear in his dream a lucky day, he drinks a cold glass of water and takes a few bites of the junk food he had ordered, and that's it.

but he felt safe in the current state he was in. he finds comforts in it, knowing his only way to see you again is to sleep and hope that you appear again. but can he blame himself? your soothing voice always helped his weary soul. every single night, he hopes to see you again in his dreams. because that's the only way left to see your face again, to feel your touch on his skin, to imagine that you're still alive and by his side. it takes him away to another world before reality comes hauling him back to the ground.

there he was, with the fourth tape in one hand, his other hand gripping the bed sheet as he was crawled into the messy bed. “recording log number four,” he whispers, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together in an attempt to prevent himself from crying.

“Chris and Rebecca tried to make me leave the house but what's the point?” he didn't even sound like how he usually did, his voice was raspy and quiet. infact, he didn't even feel like himself anymore. “whenever i go out, all i see are the shops where we used to buy stuff together, lots of couples in the streets that i envy. it sickens me.”

“living without you is unbearable,” he adds, grief and despair intertwine in a tangled web, and his tears flow like a river that never runs dry.

for around two minutes, the tape only records the sound of him crying and letting everything out as the constant ache in his chest only grows, a gnawing pain that refuses to subside.

“ever since you left,” he pauses to wipe his tears away with the sheet before continuing, “time slowed down, and each passing day feels like an eternity. simple tasks that were once routine now demand an overwhelming effort to me.”

it was true. he barely had the energy to wake up, but he pushed himself enough to go on missions when he had to. waking up, questioning every decision he made leading up to the loss of you and wondering if he could have prevented it, going on a mission with only a stiff drink in his stomach, returning "home", waiting until he gets called for the next mission. this was the way his days continued, and just like that, everything repeated itself.

memories of his happiest times with you and the little promises you have made to eachother now brings bittersweet emotions, as the realization of your absence sharpens the ache of longing.

“i never thought about becoming a father,” he murmurs with a trembling voice, “please, why did you have to leave me like this? you were the only person in my life that made me believe to that possibility. and that night where we pictured our future together... never leaves my mind. our own little haven with two kids running around, laughter filling the air... i wish you were here near me again.”

“i'm trying, i swear...” his voice cracks, “but it feels like i'm drowning even deeper into this hole each time.”

recording log number five, acceptance. this stage is about accepting the reality that his loved one is physically gone and recognizing that this new reality is the permanent reality. he will never like this reality or make it alright, but he learns to live with it. instead of denying his feelings, he listens to his needs; he moves, he changes, he grows, he evolves. he starts to reach out to others and becomes involved in their lives. he invests in his friendships and in his relationship with himself. he begins to live again.

a year.

a whole year had passed since the day you died.

it was hard. really, really hard for leon to continue living his days without you, waking up every day without your sleepy confused look when you woke up, and the smile that followed after. it was a struggle he had to get through.

it started slowly, but surely. he first decided to fix his eating habit, actually cooking himself a simple breakfast, lunch and dinner. he was so used to your presence everyday, to see his precious love waking up earlier before him to make breakfast. he kept replaying your memories, over and over in his head.

then, he stopped drinking. your hopeful smile when he first promised to you about not drinking again lingered on his mind when he had the urge to just get even the tiniest bit of sip. he couldn't disappoint you, and he made sure of it.

it was a torture to go out. memories of you and him walking in the same roads flashed in his mind every single time, but he managed that too. he reached out to his friends, talking with them and actually opening himself up this time, accepting their help.

just like that, he experienced a profound sense of peace that washed over him. it wasn't a state of joy or happiness, but rather a gentle resignation that life must go on despite the pain he has experienced. the weight on his shoulders began to lift, and the burden in his heart started to ease. it was the new norm with which he must learn to live. he must try to live now in a world where his loved one is missing. he knew he couldn't keep going on like this forever. he understands that he had lost you, and you can never be replaced, and that is okay. the memories and love he shared with you remain etched in his heart, becoming a cherished part of who he is.

“recording log number five... i guess.” leon murmurs, looking down at the cassette he's holding with one hand as his other hand held a bouquet of daffodils, standing awkwardly infront of your grave. today, he made sure to wear the fit you absolutely loved to see on him, a black suit that fit well into his figure.

“as the time passed by, i realized that you wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my days destroying myself, my love.” his voice was mellow and calm, yet it still held some sadness in it.

“i am so fortunate to have had so many wonderful years with you, and you will always be in my memories. thank you for everything,” he places the small bouquet of daffodils on your grave, his lips curling into a small, sweet smile.

“i can't explain how much i love you. thank you so much for letting me experience our intimate moments together. thank you so much for teaching me what true love is.”

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are highly appreciated. remember that you're loved and you matter.

did you know that daffodils have been known to represent hope, new beginnings, and for some, rebirth and reincarnation? they are known as flowers that are some of the first to bloom, even after a long and harsh winter, they represent a new cycle of life for many.

©︎ kennedyswhore. please do not copy or steal my works.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #infinite darkness #leon x gn!reader #leon kennedy x gn!reader #leon x you #leon kennedy x reader angst #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x gn!reader angst #leon kennedy angst #resident evil infinite darkness #leon x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fic #leon fanfic #leon kennedy

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the-californicationist · 1 month

Text

Troubleshooting

For @glitterypirateduck's super fun Oh, Captain! challenge. This is for prompt #8 where our deceptive captain tries to hide a secret from his gunsmith.

She could smell him long before she saw his hulking form stop in front of her office door. The sweet scent of his signature Romeo y Julieta cigars gave him away; a jewel from Villa Clara, Cuba. The tight-rolled tobacco smoldered amber and gold in the dark, its rustic funk and black licorice smoke gently curling out of his parted lips, trapped under his dirty boonie hat.

When she had been assigned to his team, she’d been dreading the constant relocating and high profile secrecy. It was hard enough to find 5.56 ammo for that mouthy Scot’s Steyr bullpup, much less have it delivered to a black site without a postcode. But, as she let her eyes wander up his mountainous shoulders, tracing the outline of a sharp, scruffy Adam’s apple, watching as his jaw rippled and clenched to bite down on the soft end of his cigar, she admitted to herself that she could deal with a few shipping delays as long as she got to enjoy John Price. Now, just a few weeks into this roughshod operation, she ached to see what lurked under all that gear.

She cleaned up her station, carefully screwing on the cap to her powder and putting it under the workbench. When he spoke, it was always confident but soft, like a stage whisper, words only she was meant to hear.

“Smithy,” he took a long drag from his Cuban and pulled the creamy smoke in through his nose, a very casual French inhale, breathing it out and down sharply, purposefully avoiding her face.

He’d never called her by her name, only by his clipped version of her title of Chief Gunsmith. She knew he must be aware of it since he requested her transfer, but she had always been “Smithy” to him.

“Captain, how are we this evening?” She gazed into his eyes with intent, hoping he would see her desire in them and be pleased.

“We’re alright,” he took the cigar from his mouth and let it rest between his fingers, smiling down at her as he loomed, his height making her feel small. He removed his hat, placing it on her bench before leaning against the table, his huge hand spreading wide across the stainless surface. He continued,

“You know, this M4 has been giving me a bit of trouble. I cleaned it, but even after a full breakdown, the bolt isn’t sitting flush. Think you could help me get it all the way in?”

She let his quiet rumbling voice wash over her like a wave, lapping at her mind and making her breath catch in her chest. The double entendre was so obvious as to almost be in jest, but his suggestive tone - though subtle - was enough for her to believe in it.

“Did you use enough oil? A little lubricant goes a long way, Captain, but some parts need more than others. Especially if it was a vigorous cleaning,” she threw him a bone in hopes he would bite it.

He did, replying with a sly smile,

“Perhaps I went a little rough with her. Think you can take a look?”

He licked his lips, watching as the flush tinted her neck and cheeks, hungry for her attention. She watched him shift his weight, rocking forward towards the bench, flexing his hips. Obviously, she was getting to him. She turned up the heat, pushing her luck,

“Rough is just fine, John, but with the size of the bolt head you’ve got here, you just need to make sure she’s slick enough to take it.”

She smiled sweetly, taking the rifle from him and laying it across the bench. Now that she had turned her attention to the gun, she could only watch him from the corner of her eye. But, she knew she had landed a punch when he had to turn his head away from her and pull at the inside leg of his pants, adjusting.

Then, as she took apart the barrel from the bolt and its lever, she realized he had been lying to her. He had replaced the trigger assembly before the bolt, effectively causing the problem he was asking her to solve. Price knew this gun better than the back of his own hand, and he had come down to her office with this game, hoping to score.

Her heart raced when she discovered the error, and she tried her best to maintain a straight face, not wanting him to realize she’d caught him yet. She still wanted to play.

She rebuilt the weapon, glossing over the false mistake, and pulled the bolt back flush.

“There,” she sighed, “good as new.”

The ball was clearly in his court and she waited to see what he would do. His voice had dropped into a deep, threatening register, and he was leaning so far over the workbench that she could see his pupils dilate, pushing back the bright blue and revealing the blackness behind it,

“What was the problem, Smithy?”

He began to stalk her around the edge of the table, taking impossibly slow steps toward her side of the bench, eyes fixed on her mouth. She saw his chest rising and falling faster and stronger, lifting his protective vest and causing the lingering smoke between his lips to billow chaotically around his dark beard. She held her ground, turning her body toward his as he walked,

“You made a rookie mistake, Captain Price. One that you’re not capable of making...”

His eyes sparked to life, focusing on hers now, and he knew that he’d been discovered. She continued to dismantle his farce,

“…and I wonder how it can be possible…”

Price rounded the first corner of the table, hanging on her every word. He took his cigar and pulled a long drag.

“...that such an experienced…”

Another step. The leather of his boot creaked as he pressed it down.

“...intelligent…”

Another step. She could smell his cologne now. Vetiver. Musk.

“...diligent soldier…”

He crossed the second corner, letting the smoke fall out of his mouth, pouring like water down his chin and tangling in his beard, holding his breath to let her view the effect. His teeth were clenched together behind his full mouth, and he began to smile in a sinister, pained way. She went on, quieter, her voice betraying her nerves,

“...would somehow forget how to put his own gun back together.”

Price’s cigar had come to an end, and he crushed it out under his boot as he stood in front of her, too close for propriety, just close enough to smell her coconut shampoo. He hummed, playing along, falsifying a sense of wonder and mystery in his tone.

“That is quite the mystery, innit? Must’ve been distracted by…” Price brought his hand up to touch the tip of his gunsmith’s long braid as it lay draped over her shoulder, laying on her breast, “…something important.”

“John,” she whispered, leaning toward him instinctively.

In the half-second between her speaking his name and the silence that came after, he struck like a snake, wrapping the rest of her braid around his fist like a rope, yanking her head back and pulling her to his body, letting their gear and clothes rustle between them, not caring where the vests and belts and buckles twisted and pinched, letting the tension linger. His free hand grabbed her jaw and neck in his wide, open palm, fingers pressing into her skin, warm and callused.

His voice was so strained and full of his want that it seemed like a growl, rambling in a rushed, fervent monologue,

“You’ve been teasing me again, Smithy. Ever since we got back from that damn operation. You’ve been coming to the gym at night, when I lift, and you wear those fucking shorts and you show off that thick arse, bending over in front of the racks, pulling them up higher so I can how see your wet cunt is soaking right through them,” his hand yanked her head back, making her gasp. He loved that noise,

“Delicious. Your pretty little cunt, ready to eat. Right within my reach. A whole gym, empty, and you pick that spot every damn time. Moving past me in the lockers, letting me smell you, and now I want a taste.”

She felt the stinging tightness of her scalp as he tugged on her braid, locking her body in place against his, controlling her head, moving it toward his face. He grimaced like he was in agony even though she was the one under his fist. His touch was such a relief. She’d been torturing him for weeks, and she surrendered to him, pliant to his whims, hoping he understood that her lack of resistance was essentially her begging him to forgive her for leaving him starving.

“Alright,” she smiled, still at his mercy, “If you want a taste, you can have one.” She watched as his eyes grew wide with anticipation as she unbuttoned her pants and tugged down the zipper. She bit her lip and shrugged, “On your knees, soldier.”

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #cod mwii #john price #cod #captain price #call of duty #oh captain my captain #ohcaptainchallenge #it's captain season

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fallenangelkitten · 9 months

Text

You Wish

Synopsis: You and Henry have been best friends for years. What will happen when Henry realizes it’s more than that for you?

Warnings: friends to lovers, teasing, eating out, penetration, smut with fluff at the end.

Notes: I used to be fallenangelbb here on the Henry Cavill side of tumblr but deleted my account and have regretted it ever since. So here I am reposting my work :)

“Henry!” You squealed. He had you pinned to the ground in a wrestling match. “Get the fuck off of me, you’re so heavy!!”

The two of you had been best friends since you met on the set of Superman; you were part of the stage crew. He did really well at keeping you out of the limelight- he hated the idea of people speculating and ruining the friendship he held so dear. You loved how much he cared for you, though in the back of your mind, you wished he cared for you in a different way.

Your relationship had always been platonic. He never made any moves or flirted and neither did you. Yes, of course you wanted to, but was terrified of losing him. You weren’t going to risk it. You had been waiting on Henry to make some type of move for so long that you realized he just wasn’t going to- and that was okay. I had come to peace with it. You were just happy to have him in your life.

“You’re just a sore loser,” he laughed, grabbing a hold of your wrists to make sure you wouldn’t fight back. With both of your wrists in one of his big hands, he rested his chin in his other, showing off just how easy this was for him.

You let out a scream as you used all your force to try and move your arms, but it was no use. “Fuck you, Henry,” you groaned in defeat, rolling your eyes.

“You wish,” he mocked, eyes locked with yours, a smug smirk twisting at his lips. You felt a blush creep to your cheeks; you couldn’t even look into his eyes if you wanted to, but you noticed his smirk dropped as realization set in. “Wait- you wish?”

He was still on top of you, wrists pinned to the floor. You hadn’t taken notice to the fact that he was straddling you, but now it was all you could focus on. You nodded your head yes, unable to form any words. The hand that he was using to rest his head on found its way to your cheek.

He gently cupped your face, letting his eyes trace over each of your features- almost as if it was his first time really looking at you. As his eyes made their way to your soft lips, his thumb brushed across your bottom one, causing a breath to hitch in the back of your throat. His brows were furrowed as if he were deep in thought.

His parted lips were gravitating towards your own. You had no idea your heart could beat as fast as it was in this moment; you were sure he could hear it too. His mouth just barely brushed yours. His hot breath tickled you and the faint smell of mint flooded your nose. His hand drifted to the back of your head, tilting it so that your mouth finally pressed against his.

He kissed you so softly, like he was afraid of scaring you away. He pulled in your bottom lip, lightly sucking and sweeping his tongue against it. A groan emerged from your chest. You never believed in that ‘spark’ like in the movies; but with a shock shooting up your spine and the tips of your fingers going numb, you knew it to be true.

He took the little seconds that you moaned to caress your tongue with his own, only to make you moan more and allowing him more access. His hand around your wrists loosened and snaked its way down your right arm and to your waist. Unlike his gentle touch against your lips, his hand hungerly gripped at your waist and hips, making you even more desperate to have him as close as you could get him.

You felt a pool of arousal at your core. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his, pulling his hips completely flush against you. He growled against your lips, the vibrations causing them to tingle. He began trailing sloppy kisses against your jaw line, nibbling slightly as he made his way to your neck. Your hands found his curls; you tangled your fingers in them, lavished by his touch.

He looked up at you, “Are you sure this is okay, (Y/N)?” The care behind his eyes made your heart melt.

“Henry, I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admitted, stroking your thumb across his cheek and bringing his lips back to yours. The hand he gripped at your waist with found its way under your shirt. He clawed at your back, fondling with your bra until he got it undone. You slipped your shirt over your head, taking the bra with it.

He made his way back down to your neck, leaving lingering kisses at the base and along your collarbone. His hand was just at your ribcage, not quite touching you where you desired. Your back arched, causing your nipples to brush against his chest. “Have patience, (Y/N),” he scolded.

It was teasing like before, but the darkness in his tone was new. You’d never heard him like this way before and it was intoxicating.

You whimpered as his touch rose higher and his lips descended. He finally flicked his tongue against your nipple, then took it into his warm mouth. You gasped as his teeth toyed with your flesh, tugging and sucking. He moved on to the other, giving it just as much affection. You could feel his bulge against your covered clit- you whimpered. “Please, Henry.”

“Someone’s a needed little girl, aren’t you?” He teased, bringing his hands around your bum and squeezing. “I’ve known you all these years and I wouldn’t have expected that.” You blushed deeply.

He began pulling down the sweats you were wearing, inch by inch, never once leaving your gaze. As a new section of skin became exposed, he kissed and nibbled at it, leaving small marks along your hips.

You felt as though you could hardly breathe as his mouth went lower and lower. He pushed your legs apart after throwing your bottoms to the side. He blew on your cunt, causing you to pant. He took a deep breath in and released an animalistic growl, “Fuck, you smell so good, darling.” You couldn’t help but blush at his words; no one had ever spoken to you like that before- you lived for it.

He let his tongue lightly trial up your slit before he wrapped his lips around your bud. You cried out, one of your hands gripping into his hair and the other on his shoulder. He tenderly sucked, hands grounding your hips to the floor so you couldn’t squirm. He traced your folds, massaging with the tip of his firm tongue before thrusting it into you. “Is this what you always wanted? Me to fuck you with my mouth?” All you could do was wail as he wasted no time before shoving his tongue back inside of you. He plunged into you at an ungodly speed- one of his hands reaching up to rub circles around your clit, sending you over the edge when he brushed against it.

Your legs began to shake, nails digging into his skin. But he released you before you could get to that oh so euphoric state. “H-Henry!” You whined, gasps leaving your pleading lips.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Oh, (y/n). You really think I’m going to let you cum so quickly after keeping this little secret from me?” He had a devilish smirk on his lips, your juices shining on his face.

He crawled back up to meet your face, pulling his cock out of his pants as he made his way to you; you practically drooled at the sight. He lined himself up with your entrance and without warning plunged completely into you. Your mouth hung agape, but not a sound emerged. You were stunned, the feeling of his girth stretching you being almost too much to handle.

Henry grumbled a sigh of relief as you clenched around him. He looked down at you as he huffed, “What? Am I more than you thought I would be? Too hard for your little cunt to take?” He started to move so slowly; it was agonizing. “Too fucking bad.”

He never picked up his pace, but his hips were strong. Each thrust jabbed into you, pushing against the deepest, sweetest part of you. As he continued his steady, unwieldy assault on you, he ducked his head down to take your nipple back into his mouth.

You were feeling yourself begin to teeter back on the edge of bliss. Your legs were starting to shake around his waist, eyes rolling back into your head. He grunted, head falling into the crook of your neck as he came into you. The feeling of his hot cum sending you over, walls clenching around him as he rode out both of your highs.

•••

The soft cloth was warm against you, soothing, as Henry gently cleaned you up. A hum of bliss leaving you. “Never in a million years did I think this would happen,” you admitted.

He chuckled, teasing affection lighting his eyes. “I would agree, but the thought never even crossed my mind. You were never something I even realized I could have,” he admitted. His thumb caressed your cheek. “But now that I know. Now that you’ve tasted you, had you.” You felt the heat rising to your cheeks. “I don’t know if I’d be willing to let you go. So if this was just something physical for you, please tell me now.”

You kissed him gently. “No, Henry. This is as real for me as it is for you. I’m here.”

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nolita-fairytale · 8 months

Note

did you ever end up writing the phone call blurb?? i am STRUGGLING to find it and im so desperate 😭😭😭

called you again (extended)

a/n: ok so i never got to writing the actual phone call that transpires between carmy and reader, that gets her to chicago in the first place. and if i recall correctly, @cool-girl-is-hot was also patiently awaiting this phone call. since i'm doing the follower celebration, what a perfect time for me to bring this back, @bunnywritesmarvel.

You answer the call before you can talk yourself out of it, immediately putting it on speaker.

“Hi,” you say, your voice shaking a little.

And it’s as if a fog clears, like you've been waiting to hear it for a long time.

“Hi,” he replies, his voice soft, yet hesitant.

You're met with a long silence on the end of the other line as the two of you dance around whatever it is Carmy called to say. There's a part of you that wants nothing more than to spill everything, lead the conversation like you always do, but after months of radio silence, you know you can't do that. If Carmy wants to reconnect, then he's got a whole of groveling to do considering he pretty much ghosted you since he moved back home.

"I uh. I heard," he finally says, in reference to your recent change of employment.

"Oh," you sound, your voice higher in pitch than you imagined it would be as you scramble to find a better word than 'oh.' "I... um. Yeah. My heart wasn't in it anymore."

What you want to say is, my heart moved to Chicago and forgot how his fucking phone works.

"Yeah," Carmy replies, and you can practically hear him pacing back and forth as he searches for something to say.

You share another silence, this one much more tense than the last, like a hot pot of water about to blow its lid off in pressure, as you wait for him to ask you something -- anything. How hard could it be?

How are you? What's been going on? Sorry I haven't called.

But he doesn't say anything of these things. Instead, when he finally speaks again, all he says is:

"So listen. I uh-, I got this guy. He’s- he’s self taught but he’s got a lot of potential,” Carmy explains, his delivery becoming more and more confident as he hides behind the work.

“He just needs a good teacher – someone to inspire him – give him some of the foundations he would’ve gotten in culinary school. I think uh, I think you'd like him.

So after four months of no contact he... needs something from you? You can't help the feelings of anger and disappointment that grow inside of you.

Was he upset that you quit the restaurant -- here to talk you into going back -- now that he needed a favor? A stage?

“Just for a week, maybe?" Carmy suggests, his voice going up at the end, almost as if it's a question.

"I can’t pay you much but uh, well we’ve got a little money, which is a whole other story, and I can talk to my brother-in-law. He can put you up somewhere… you know… if you want to. If that helps.”

Oh.

He's asking you to come to Chicago.

While it feels like it changes things, you're still ambivalent and you certainly don't want to get your hopes up.

"Carmy..." you trail off on an exhale. "I don't know."

"Sure," Carmy nods, chewing on his lip, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious about asking you in the first place.

He wants to take it all back, tell you it was a stupid idea, and apologize for even saying something in the first place. But he doesn't. He can't. Because after working himself up to call you for the last few hours, there's no way he's going to back out now.

Let it rip, Bear.

"I uh... well, I understand. If can't-. Don't want to. Maybe I shouldn't've uh..." Carmy stammers through, the heat rising to his cheeks.

"It's just uh. Tim told me... you might be looking for some inspiration."

Right.

You pause before asking:

"Can I... Can I think about it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Sure," Carmy is quick to answer, because he really wants to make this okay for you.

For the both of you.

And because hearing your voice for the first time in four months feels better than he ever could've imagined.

"Okay. I'll uh... I'll think about it," you drag out, because you know you'll need some time to process this.

"Listen, I uh. I'm late to meet Liz. But I'll let you know. Either way."

"Yeah, okay. Okay," he answers, nodding eagerly.

"Okay," you reply, listening to Carmy bid you a soft spoken goodbye before ending the call.

"Holy shit," you hiss, putting your phone down on the table, your hand folded over your heart as you can feel it race.

Well, you've got quite the decision to make.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #make my heart surrender #comfort and chaos

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queenshelby · 4 months

Text

An Illicit Affair

Part Two: Jazz Bar

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

The jazz concert took place in a small bar, downtown Soho. It was a Thursday evening, at around 9 o'clock, when you arrived at the establishment with the view to meet your best friend and fellow student Lucy there. Lucy was two years older than you and you shared a dorm room with her on campus.

Just like you, Lucy was nerdy and focused on her studies, telling you years ago that you should not have gotten involved with Max but, of course, you did not listen to her at the time.

That evening, Lucy stood you down, not intentionally but out of necessity. She had an assignment due the following day and recognized that she had not spent enough time on its content.

So, at around nine that evening, you received a message from her saying that she had to bail on you, leaving you alone in the quirky bar which, by now, was filled with art students, middle aged men and women and a few musicians.

Still, you were determined to make the most of the night. After all, your favorite band was playing, and this alone encouraged you to order yourself a drink and take a seat close to the stage.

A few minutes later, the band started a lively tune, and soon everyone began dancing.

You found yourself swaying to the rhythm, feeling the energy of the crowd enveloping you and, just as you were starting to get lost in the music, you spotted a familiar face.

It was Cillian, Max's father, who was standing near the bar, nursing a glass of red wine.

The sight of him jolted you, sending a wave of mixed emotions coursing through your veins. You hadn't seen him since that fateful weekend in Dublin over fifteen months ago, and the memory of his captivating blue eyes and mesmerizing voice lingered within you. You watched him from afar, unable to tear your gaze away.

Cillian appeared to be engrossed in a conversation with a group of people, but every once in a while, he would glance around the room, scanning the faces of the attendees.

That's when his gaze landed on you and he excused himself from the group of people he was with.

Approaching you with purpose, he smiled warmly. "Y/N, hey...it's nice to see you again," he greeted you. "How have you been?" he wanted to know and, immediately, his deep voice resonated through your body, stirring a familiar spark within you.

"I'm doing well, thank you," you responded, trying to remain composed. "How about you?" you asked before asking "what brings you here tonight?" with some surprise.

"Oh, I saw that this band was performing and thought I'd check them out," Cillian explained casually with his thick Irish accent.

"Are you in London for work or to see Max?" you asked Cillian, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I am here for work, shooting a commercial, but I did catch up with Max yesterday for dinner," Cillian answered. "He seems to be doing well, even though he dropped out of medical school," he explained, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness knowing that you may have been the reason he quit his studies.

"I am sorry Cillian, I feel like I caused this," you admitted hesitantly, remembering the countless arguments you had with him about his lackadaisical attitude towards academics right before the break-up.

"No, you didn't. If anything, he hung in there as long as he did because of you," Cillian reassured you. "He is a good kid, but he lacks the discipline and commitment for such a difficult field of studies, and I must admit that, so did I, when I was his age," he chuckled before telling you that, at the age of twenty, he dropped out of law school.

"Well, fortunately for you, you discovered acting and that clearly turned out to be your calling," you said with a wink and Cillian laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"That's right, I guess," he agreed, sipping on his wine. "So, no doubt Max will find his way too, at least once he gets over you," he then added calmly before gesturing towards the chair next to yours, wanting to take a seat.

"I am sure he is over me. It's been a year already and I see him quite often on campus these days. He may have transferred to the Arts Faculty, but he is still chatting up and flirting with the medical students," you joked before indicating to Cillian to take the seat.

"He's a charmer, that's for sure," Cillian said with a hint of pride in his voice. "So, tell me," he leaned in closer, his scent intoxicating, "have you narrowed down your field of practice yet? Are you still interested in pediatrics?" Cillian asked you, his eyes sparkling with interest. "I mean, you mentioned it the last time we saw each other, but have you decided on anything yet?" Cillian pressed further, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I suppose that's accurate," you replied, feeling a surge of nervousness wash over you. "Pediatrics is definitely the direction I'm leaning towards, particularly oncology research."

"Oncology? That's fascinating," Cillian remarked, his eyes widening.

"Why oncology specifically?" he pressed, genuinely curious. "Is it because of your friend who battled leukemia? I remember you talking that," he went on to say and you were impressed by the fact that he remembered. Unlike Max, Cillian appeared to be a good listener and you appreciated that.

"Yes, that's right. Ever since visiting my friend in the hospital, I've been fascinated by the idea of using science to combat diseases. Research gives me the opportunity to contribute to the advancement of healthcare," you explained earnestly.

Cillian tilted his head, studying you closely. "Your dedication is admirable," he complimented, admiration glimmering in his eyes, and you blushed faintly, feeling flattered by his praise.

"Thank you, Cillian," you mumbled shyly before downing the rest of your drink.

"Would you like another drink?" Cillian thus asked, being observant, as he settled into the chair, his scent wafted over you, a mix of expensive cologne and freshly laundered linen. "My shout," he then went on to say as he noticed you hesitating and, immediately, you suppressed a shiver, suddenly aware of the intimate setting you'd created.

"Okay," you muttered nervously, gazing down at your empty glass. "Thank you," went on to say and, not long after that, Cillian walked off and instructed the bartender, handing over his credit card.

When he returned to the table, you both fell quiet again, awkwardly staring at the dance floor. The band played a slow, bluesy number, and couples danced intimately beneath the dim glow of the stage lights.

Feeling increasingly uneasy, you attempted to change the subject. "How is Danielle?" you asked, swirling the wine in your glass.

Cillian hesitated, his expression clouding over. "Alright, I suppose," he muttered, a hint of melancholy creeping into his voice.

"Alright, you suppose?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. The way he answered your question seemed absurd.

"Yeah, well, things aren't exactly smooth sailing with us," he admitted reluctantly. "We have been having problems for years," he confided in you, causing your heart to skip a beat.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," you sympathized, genuine concern etching your features. "Max did mentioned about you fighting a lot," you commented cautiously, careful not to cross any boundaries.

Cillian exhaled deeply, his shoulders drooping slightly. "We've been trying to work things out but it hasn't been easy," he confessed, his voice laced with sorrow. "Sometimes it feels like we're stuck in a cycle of misunderstandings, accusations and resentment," he admitted.

"I may have heard about certain rumors, in the tabloids, concerning you and other actresses," you ventured delicately, "but I know that these gossip magazines tend to blow things out of proportion," you quickly added just as Cillian chuckled and interrupted you.

"I didn't take you to be the kind of person who reads these kinds of magazines Y/N. I am really disappointed in you," he mocked, giving you a sideways glance, which made you blush.

"I don't, unless I am at the hairdressers and my phone is running low on battery," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "And I know the press loves to feed on drama," you added defensively, trying to cover up the embarrassment.

"Well then, for what it's worth, I can assure you that I have never cheated on my wife," Cillian stated plainly, his eyes locked on yours. "Not that I haven't had the opportunity though," he admitted without hesitation, his honesty striking you speechless.

"I am sure you have had many opportunities," you commented lightly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

"Maybe not many, but I had some," Cillian laughed before changing the topic to something lighter.

"What about you?" he asked. "Have you met anyone new since you broke up with Max?" he wanted to know before apologizing for his question, telling you that you did not have to answer it if it made you uncomfortable.

You swallowed nervously, your pulse quickening at the mention of your former lover. "No, it's okay," you told him. "I haven't had much time for dating," you lied, fiddling with your napkin. "Med school takes up most of my time," you added, not wanting to reveal the truth that no one had caught your attention since Max, at least not yet.

Cillian nodded sympathetically. "I can imagine," he said, before pausing briefly, watching you sip your drink before continuing with caution. "So, besides med school, what keeps you busy?" he questioned, curiosity burning in his eyes.

You sighed softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Not much, honestly," you confessed, shrugging nonchalantly. "I mean, there's the occasional date with friends, dinners with family, and that's pretty much it," you admitted. "I can't lie though, it does get lonely sometimes," you revealed, peering down at your lap.

"I get like this when I am away filming for weeks," Cillian shared, nodding sympathetically. "When the loneliness creeps in, it makes you feel so isolated, doesn't it?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, absolutely," you agreed, your voice barely audible. "I've learned to appreciate moments like these, though, because they remind me how precious human connection truly is," you confided in him, reaching to clasp your hands together.

Cillian gazed at you, his gaze softening. "It must be tough, being so dedicated to your studies. How do you manage to balance everything?" he pondered aloud.

"I've developed strategies to cope. For instance, I set aside time for myself each day, whether it's going for a run or reading a book," you admitted, your voice trailing off and it was at this point that you learned that you shared even more common interests with Cillian.

He, too, liked to go for runs and read, and not just scripts for upcoming projects. He enjoyed historical fiction as well as thrillers, and his literary horizons were broad. You found this refreshing, considering how insular and self-involved actors could be.

After ordering more drinks, you and Cillian talked some more and shared some laughs. Your conversations flowed effortlessly, covering various subjects ranging from books you both loved to visit places you hoped to travel to someday. Cillian spoke passionately about the beauty of Ireland and its rich history, while you eagerly described your fascination with Italy, having taken a trip there during your gap year.

You exchanged stories, sharing experiences both past and present, discovering more similarities between the two of you. Cillian was intrigued by your intelligence and wit, while you admired his charm and charisma. The chemistry between you intensified, growing stronger with each passing moment.

By the time it was midnight, the group of people he had talked to earlier left and the music had stopped, which is when Cillian reached across the table to refill your glass from the bottle of wine he had ordered thirty minutes ago and, just as he did, his fingers brushed against yours, igniting a spark that neither of you could ignore.

An awkward silence ensued, but instead of dissipating quickly, it grew thicker with tension.

Cillian's intense gaze bore into you, leaving a trail of goosebumps along your arms. You glanced at the stage, searching for a distraction, but the band had packed up their instruments and left.

Cillian cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Well, time flies when you' are having fun," he murmured, his voice husky and seductive. "It is nice talking to you, but it is getting late," he added, checking his watch conspicuously. "And I should probably head back to the hotel," he concluded and you blinked twice.

"Where are you staying?" you blurted out impulsively, catching yourself off guard by your sudden curiosity.

"At the Hilton," Cillian replied simply, adjusting his posture in his seat. "It's not far from here, actually," he added, his voice drifting into a contemplative tone.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, contemplating your next move. "That's convenient," you murmured, attempting to sound casual. "I have heard that they have a decent bar downstairs," you stammered, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Cillian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting mischievously. "They do. So, perhaps we should grab a nightcap before you are heading home," he offered you almost nervously, causing your heart to race.

"I would like that," you said softly, offering him a gentle smile, hoping that he would interpret it correctly.

With a nod, Cillian rose from his seat, his frame casting a shadow over you. He extended his hand, helping you to your feet. You felt the warmth of his touch and the strength of his grip, and your knees weakened slightly.

As you followed him towards the exit, the crowd parted, making way for you two as if silently acknowledging the magnetic pull between you two.

Once outside, the cool air hit you, a stark contrast to the heat inside the bar.

The neon signs cast a hazy glow on the cobblestone streets, and the distant hum of traffic blended seamlessly with the whispers of passersby. A sense of excitement pulsed through you as you allowed your senses to heighten, embracing the intoxicating atmosphere.

You and Cillian headed for the Hilton, which was a five-minute walk from the jazz club.

As you approached the hotel lobby, the ambient lighting and plush furnishings provided a cozy refuge from the chilly night air but, much to your disappointment, you noticed that their bar was already closed.

"I suppose we won't be having that nightcap after all," you lamented, pouting your lips while Cillian contemplated whether or not to ask you to join him in his room.

He bit his lip, looking up at the ceiling before making a decision.

"We could always go to my room and order a bottle of wine," he then suggested, his voice trembling slightly. "If you want to, that is," he added hastily, turning his gaze onto you and, immediately, your heart skipped a beat, your breath hitching as you stared into his deep blue eyes.

"Okay, yeah, why not," you managed to utter, feeling a rush of nerves wash over you. "Just for one drink though," you insisted, hoping to ease your mounting anxiety while Cillian's piercing blue eyes lighted up.

"Sounds perfect," he agreed, leading you towards the elevator bank with a pang of guilt flooding his mind as he thought about the possibility of taking this further than his vows would permit. "Just one drink then," he thus reminded himself as he pushed the button for the top floor, hoping that his loyalty to Max and Danielle would prevail over the desire for you.

Tags:

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic

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petermorwood · 6 months

Text

Microwave Sponge Cake (eventually)

Long ago, @dduane and I had a Whirlpool combi microwave - micro, grill, fan oven - and It Was Great, big enough to use as a proper oven when what needed cooked in a proper oven was small enough that powering up the big proper oven in the cooker was a bit much.

Still with me...?

IIRC it was one of those Christmas presents where Mum, ever-practical, told us; "get yourselves something really useful but not too expensive (I did say practical!) and I'll go halves."

In 2016, after something like 15 years of pretty-well daily use for one thing and another, the old thing expired by stages, micro first, grill second, oven last - it made great bread up until the end - and went to recycling heaven.

*****

We couldn't find a one-for-one replacement (we needed a free-standing counter-top appliance, everyone was selling built-in), so until once was available (optimism) we bought an ordinary microwave.

NB, this and its successors were only used for ordinary microwave things like reheating, defrosting and dealing with freeze-cook stuff. They got nothing like the amount of use of the old combi, mostly because of being incapable of doing a lot of it. As things turned out, this didn't help much.

About eighteen months later, we had to buy another. If a microwave's enamel interior develops a crack (to this day I don't know how), moisture gets in, rust begins and the enamel pulls off the bare metal. That's when you get "sparking".

This demo is deliberate; believe me, when it's unexpected it's even worse.

youtube

A private welder show or lightning storm at the end of the kitchen counter when all you want is a hot cuppa is distinctly unsettling. Also, it's only going to get worse, and we could imagine - boy, could we - what "Much Worse" might look like.

To the recycle dump!

(NB, micros with stainless steel interiors don't seem to do this, probably because they're already tuned to deal with the bare metal.)

The replacement, another ordinary micro, Just Up And Died after eighteen months and, guess what, the quote for a check-up and replacements-if-required was as much as the price of a new one.

(Inkjet printers seem to operate on this principal too.)

To the recycle dump again!

We got a third new one (which BTW is still running just fine, because it's been downgraded to Extra, read on), totalled up what we'd spent on ordinary microwaves, said a few well-chosen words about planned obsolescence and the "Vimes 'Boots' Theory of Economic Inequality" and got ourselves a pre-pay credit card whose top-ups were dedicated to Get A Combi Again.

We didn't bother with GACA baseball caps.

That would have been silly.

I don't know if these cards exist in the USA; we treat them as the modern version of a piggy-bank...

...except that to get at the money you need two people acting in accord.

*****

And in 2021 we got one.

Okay, this next bit is going to read like an ad.

It isn't, because the appliance is discontinued. (Whirlpool FINALLY do something similar but not identical.) It's just enthusiastic users discovering there's even more to a gadget than expected.

*****

The New One even bigger than the old one, which had 28 litres capacity; the new one was 33 L (was .99 ft³, is now 1.16 ft³). In non-tech terms, wow, More Room To Cook In.

Reading the figures was no help (to me, anyway) in visualising what a maw the thing had, but opening the door did that and no mistake.

I said something to DD about "bite radius"...

...and she instantly responded with "anyway, we delivered the bomb".

We're a quotesy household. ;->

BTW, The New One does a very good job on seafood, too...

*****

Since we got this, almost exactly two years ago, we've used it from reheating tea to roasting meat to making chilli / goulash / stew / curry (you can run the oven / grill separately or add simultaneous zaps of microwave for much less cooking time) to baking bread.

One of the best things about it is that when the set cooking time is done, the appliance switches off automatically. No risk of busyness, absent-mindedness or out-in-the-garden-ness ending in clouds of smoke, ruined food and possibly even worse.

As for breadmaking, it has a dough-rise setting which is a Time Machine, reducing a two-hour "doubled in size" rise time to about 35-45 minutes...

It also has the most reliable Defrost Butter setting either of us have ever encountered, turning a rock-solid butter brick from the freezer into something spreadable while never - to date - doing the "never mind a butter-knife, give me a spoon or a paintbrush" thing.

*****

However...

There's also a "Chef Setting" where there are some simple recipes. Here's the pastry page.

Basically, you assemble and mix the ingredients, input the correct settings and the machine does all the timing, heating and cooking.

We'd never used this until yesterday, when DD said, "Let's try the sponge cake..."

Yes, this post was entitled "Microwave Sponge Cake (eventually)..." and here we are...

We did all the measuring correctly and checked it by pouring the mixture into a baking container while on the scale, wondering betimes why the recipe says 900g, the ingredients total 925 and what actually poured into the container reads 906... Weird. Really weird.

Then we put the container into the oven, entered the correct code, and let things do what they were going to do.

A little later we discovered something else about the recipe besides a weight anomaly.

It didn't mention the required size of the container. Or or how much the mixture was likely to rise.

It rose...

Let's say more than we expected...

The fluted ceramic container used for baking this one makes it look like a Vesuvius cupcake; not quite a pyroclastic flow, but a lot of flow regardless.

Once it cooled we separated the sponge-cake from the escaped sponge in the same way as sculptors work with wood or marble - "Chip away everything that doesn't look like a cake" - and found that despite its misshapen looks, it tasted pretty good.

So today DD made another, this time using a larger container.

...and this time it stayed put until removed using the cunning base-and-lifting-straps of baking parchment.

It's not the loftiest or best-risen sponge cake either of us have ever seen (a smaller-diameter higher-sided container would probably deal with that) BUT if there's something needing sponge cake in a hurry - this went from cupboard ingredients to done and cooling in less than 55 minutes - that treatment seems to fit the bill.

We're now wondering what other secrets lurk in the simple recipe pages; falafel, quiche Lorraine, stuffed peppers, even Flammkuchen* from scratch.

(*Though I have my own views about Flammkuchen, mostly involving a plane flight...)

And we'll be paying a lot more attention to what size of dish we put them in. :->

#food and drink #kitchen appliances #combi microwaves #sponge cake #anecdotage #GNU Terry Pratchett #Youtube

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gay-wh0re-slut · 3 months

Note

HIHIHI I LOVELLVELOVE YOUR WRITING!!!

can i request rhea x reader fluff where the reader’s social battery runs out while they’re out somewhere and they start clinging onto rhea and she honestly doesn’t mind??

thank you sm and again I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM

hey so sorry about the delay :/ it’s been a lil over a month since you sent this in but i’ve had no motivation to write lately BUT this is so cute i couldn’t resist so thank you. i hope you like it :)

My Girl

rhea x reader

content: going to a wwe party with your hot buff goth gf but it got overwhelming towards the end but she comforts you just right bc she’s perfect in every way possible obviously

You and Rhea had been invited to the WW-Extravaganza. A yearly party for everyone to bring their significant others and show them off while they learn the ins and outs of the upcoming year. It was usually in October or November when no other holidays were happening.

Rhea couldn’t wait to take you. You hadn’t been able to go in the past because of work or family but you were finally able to this year. Though you had met almost everyone in the company, she was still excited to show you off.

She could tell you were a bit nervous as you were getting ready but she calmed you down easily, she was always so good at that.

You were in the middle of your makeup when this wave of anxiety hit you. You were shaking and trying to not to cry in hope of not ruining your makeup. You didn’t want to worry her so you kept quiet. When she walked past you at your vanity, she could immediately tell something was off, she was always good at that too.

“You know everyone there and there will be good food and drinks, and I’ll be right next to you the whole time, no need to worry,” she said holding you tightly from behind.

You took a deep breath as your nerves calmed underneath her. As she kissed the top of your head, you kissed her bicep.

“Plus you’ll be the hottest one there so,” she giggled.

“Look who’s talking,” you snap back.

“Can you blame me?” she posed behind you flexing her arms, devilishly smirking in the mirror as you looked at her.

You laughed shooing her away, “don’t get me going! I have to finish!”

“Okay, okay!” as she winked and walked to the living room.

The time came and went and the two of you were mingling throughout the crowd of muscular people and their significant others. Rhea immediately found Dom and the boys and as you talked with their wives about random things.

“So glad you could make it this year, it’s always so fun!” they said. “It’s so good to see you,” they ogled at your outfit and makeup as you glanced over to your girlfriend. She gave you an ‘I told you so’ look as you scrunched your nose at her before going back to the conversation.

It was maybe about an hour or so of talking with other wrestlers and making your rounds as Rhea’s girlfriend, holding her arm for comfort.

“Alright everyone please take your seats!” a booming voice said.

Shuffling around everyone found their way to their respective tables that had fancy name cards and decorations to represent the factions or groups of people. So of course, The Judgment Day’s center piece was purple and black with a scale and feathers. Where they found the scale was a question of its own but it was definitely a good choice.

Triple H talked while food was being served about how the year would go. Like what days the PLE’s would be, when specialty guests were coming, and other things of that nature. He wasn’t up there for long though but he did try to crack a few jokes.

“Now, please enjoy the food!” he walked off the stage, that had a makeshift ring, as everyone clapped.

“(Y/N)! I’m so happy you’re here,” Dom said.

“Me too! I’ve heard so many fun stories from the previous years,” you took a sip of your complimentary wine.

“And now you can make yer own,” Finn added.

“We’re gonna dominate in the games, don’t worry,” Damian tacked on.

“Yeah, last year Damage Control won almost all of them but we have you now,” Dom nudged you smiling.

You laughed, “I can’t wait!”

A familiar tattooed hand found its way to your bouncing leg and calmed it immediately. Rhea gave you a soft smile before going back to her food.

You talked and ate then played the games. There were games like: Pin the Belt on the Wrestler, Ring Pong, and Trivia and other wrestling inspired games strewn around the room. And just like Damian said, you and The Judgment Day brought home the gold, well, a silver plastic trophy that had a dumbbell statue on it with ‘Winner!’ engraved on the plaque.

“Hell yeah!” the australian yelled double high-fiving her boys. “You’re our good luck charm, baby!” she gave you a kiss as she dipped you back while the boys cheered.

Once the games were over everyone went back to talking and mingling. Some people left, but most stayed.

Your mind became tired and your body felt drained, you wanted to go home. It was already later than you wanted to stay out. It’s not like you weren’t having a good time but you realized quickly that your social battery was very low. You didn’t want to bother your girlfriend because you knew how much fun she was having. So you decided to keep quiet and try your best to stay involved.

You held Rhea’s arm, then switched to her hand, then back to her arm. When you were sitting, you laid your head on her shoulder, and rested your hand on her thigh. You did all this trying to stay attentive and in the conversations. You followed her around like a shadow the rest of the night.

“You okay baby?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah, just a bit tired is all,” you gave her a small smile.

“I noticed you’ve been attached to me for a bit, you sure?” she cups your jaw for a moment.

“I’m sure, just a little partied out,” you sigh, “but don’t worry I’m fine…really.”

“We can leave whenever you want,” she reassured you.

“No, I’m okay. I don’t want to stop you from having fun…” you took a deep breath before realizing it didn’t sound like you were having a good time so you added, “I am having fun too though, promise.”

“No, I know you. You’ve ran out, we can go, it’s okay. We’ve finished everyth-” she started.

“Baby,” you squeezed her arms, “I promise I’m good.”

She looked at you long and hard with her icy blue eyes, “okay,” she exhaled. “It’s late anyway, I was thinking about leaving soon, if that’s okay?”

“Perfectly fine, my love, whenever you want,” you raised yourself on your toes to kiss her before thumping back down.

“I love you so much. I’m so happy you’re here,” she smiled.

“Me too.”

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #dominik mysterio #damian priest #finn balor #the judgment day

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thescottpack · 5 months

Text

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!reader x Cregan Stark

Warning: targcest, romance, angst

summary: Aemond and reader know each other since birth and one day they were in love and in the other they felt betrayed.

Its been a long time since you seen Aemond, as a family people expect that having a royal blood and be part of a royal family means that you are close to those around you, as they all say " you have to keep the bloodline pure as a Targaryen". But it was all horse shit, at these stage of the existence every single person knew how vile the Targaryens can be and it didn't matter if you share the same blood, enemi was enemi.

You were thinking about this while riding Cannibal to a open field. From the sky it was possible to see that everthing was burned and it was only ashes now, there was no trees, no animals not a single life exept that large dragon on the ground and his owner close to it, Vhagar.

You land your dragon a bit far away from Aemond's dragon, you knew how things cold get pretty ugly really fast.

"You came, I have to be honest I didn't think you would show up."

Aemond was taking a few steps in your direction while you met him in between the two dragons.

"You ask for me and here I am."

"I miss you, everyday."

You sigh.

"Aemond..."

He took another step.

"I think about you everyday."

And another step.

"All day long."

When he was finale face to face, you looked away ashame of your feelings for him. He took so much from you and you still can't stop loving him.Aemond put a finger on your chin and made you look in his eye again while bringing his lips closer and closer to yours.

"Please Aemond don't do this to me."

He land a kiss on the corner of your lips, soft and gente.

"I'm not doing anything darling."

"This is wrong and I can't."

And another kiss on the other side.

"There is nothing wrong in this." Then he gave a peck on your lips. "There's nothing wrong about you and me." He put hes hands on your hips bringing your body closer to his, it was like he put you in some trance. "And it will never be."

Finally kissing you with passion his tongue entered your mouth and explored every single part of It. Your body molded into his while he was holding you close like he was afraid you would runway. When you stopped the kiss Aemond put his forehead on yours.

"Come back with me. You and I can end this war together. With all dragons and the power Aegon have we can..."

Shaking your head you gain your senses again. He was asking you to join Aegon's side.

"I won't betray my mother and you know it." You said giving a step back and making he let you go from his hands.

"My love you would be saving her, if you came with me I'll make sure you are safe, more safe than anyone in the entire realm."

"I won't accept this.I won't accept Aegon as king Aemond this is madness and you know it."

"Don't think about his stupid ass right now, think about me and you we can be together again like when we were young. I love you and I know you love me."

"And what about your wife, hum? Are you just gonna leave her for me? Is that it? I will never bow to your cunt of a bother."

"Listen! You are not helping me here love you got marry too remeber? Don't blame me for something that you did too."

"How can you say something like this? When YOU were the one who got marry first! When I found out I was so angry at you and so sad, you promessed to be with me forever and then you went behind my back and got marry anyway!"

You were not beliving in what he was saying, your face expression changes into a angry mode and you could hear the sound of a few horses coming closer to your direction. Aemond looked in the distant and saw a small group off man. One of those man spoke something to the group making the others stop. When you looked over your sholders you could see who was it, your husband Lord Cregon Stark. Aemond shifted his posture when he saw one of his enemies.

"Does he follow you around now?"

He was jealous and got even angrier when he saw how Cannibal act around Cregan, like he knew he was family. In Aemond's head this was pure bullshit. Oh how he wish the dragon would just end that man's life. Vaghar was sensing Aemond's feelings and started to get agitated and when Cregan gave one more step closer to you and Aemond she left a roar.

You looked back at Cregan " It's alright husband, me and my uncle are just trying to get into a deal but it seams that we can't get into a agreement."

You turn your back to Aemond and started to walk in Cregan's direction when you heard.

" Don't you dare turn your back to me!" Aemound shouted."You are mine!"

Turnin to face Aemond again you spoke " You turn your back to me first, when you killed my little brother remember?! I have asked you so many times to leave all that shit behind and for you to come with me that evething would be forgiven but you refused and you still do! I am done with your games uncle, the next time I see you me and Cannibal we won't be so friendly."

Turning you back to Aemond again you went to Cregan's direction and put a hand on his chest.

"Are you all my sweet?" he asked.

"Evething it's alright my dear husband, theres no need to worry. I will be leaving now and I suggest you do the same and when you come back to the camp I'll be right there waiting for you."

When you decide to leave your husband pulled you back to him and gave you a kiss. Aemond was furious and he wasn't hiding his anger, Vaghar let another roar in you direction and then Cannibal became aggitated as well. You went to you dragon and tried to calm him down.

"Cannibal daor. Sagon gīda, rȳbagon naejot issa issa zaldrīzes." (Cannibal no.Be calm listen to me my dragon.)

When you get on top of you dragon you told Cregan to leave and before he went away he looked back at Aemond one more time while Aemond stood on the same spot you left him. He watched you leave on Cannibal and he knew he you were his right? He couldn't have lost you...right?

#hotd fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #cregan x reader

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yoonia · 5 months

Text

overdrive (m) | B.I

⤑ Summary | As his personal manager who always works closely with him in both his professional activities and private matters, it has become one of your duties to cater to his needs, to always be on his beck and call, even if you have to put aside your own needs to please him.

⤑ Title | Overdrive ⤑ Pairings | Kim Hanbin (B.I) x female reader ⤑ Genre | PWP, Smut, Artist/Musician!B.I, Manager!reader ⤑ Word count | 13,345 words

⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; involves mature and explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, groping, stripping/nudity, breast play, hand job, oral sex (male receiving/blowjob), deepthroating, unprotected sex, public sex, tour bus sex, accidental voyeurism, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling (on both), edging, begging, swearing, breast play, nipple play, panty ripping, fingering, clit play, finger licking, cum tasting/eating, cum swallowing, biting, light restraint, implied creampie, panty biting(?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, body worshipping.

⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story is purely a work of fiction, with the usage of artist’s/idol’s names as fictional characters. Any similarities in the usage of names for other characters and circumstances are purely coincidental. | PS. This is only roughly edited, but I hope you’ll still enjoy reading the story.

It feels like only moments ago this place was thriving with raw energy.

Loud music was blasting through the speakers, while the sounds of fans screaming his name and singing along to his song echoed through the entire venue. Everyone and every part of this place came alive as Hanbin took control of the stage with his mere presence.

You can almost see him still being there as you look over at the stage, commanding it with his music. You still remember how he kept everyone completely entranced with his alluring voice and hypnotising moves. What he did on stage was pure magic.

And that magic must have been strong enough that you can still picture him doing his thing on that empty stage. You can still feel his presence even after the lights have been turned off and the crowd has long since left this place to return home.

Thinking about him like this makes your body burn hot.

Your heartbeat starts racing the same way it did earlier while you were standing by the side of the stage, watching him move his body to the music. After spending the past year working with him and then joining him on this tour, the reactions he inflicts on you no longer surprise you.

He captivates you in ways that you can never possibly explain. That you have never experienced before.

Even once the music has stopped, once his performance has long ended and there are no more of his lively audience around you dancing and screaming his name, you can still feel everything.

Even without the music, its vibration seems to linger. Still reverberates through the air around you and you can feel it deep within your body. As if the space around you is still humming with his presence even in the silence that remains.

“You’re still here?” a voice calls out, drawing your attention away from the empty stage and out of your thoughts right before they begin to dive into a different, slightly darker place. The road manager comes to your side. The man appears just as exhausted as you are—perhaps even more, knowing what he is required to do before and after these shows—yet he still has a big smile on his face as he greets you.

“Yeah, I just met up with the promoter, so I figured I��d check in to see how you guys are doing while I’m still around,” you try to make up excuses. Not that he would start questioning further. “How’s everything going?”

The road manager begins explaining everything—from all the tasks that the road crew had just completed and how they are handing the rest to the local staff. Skipping all the technical details that you have no business with except to report back to Hanbin later.

Much later.

Once you are done with your actual responsibilities.

As Hanbin’s personal manager who normally handles his private needs, keeping watch of the road crew dismantling the stage equipment and the stereo system isn’t really a part of your duty in the first place. Especially when there aren’t really that many things they would need to cover in these indoor venues. Getting to know what they are doing isn't even the reason why you still remain here after the show is over.

You are simply buying time before returning back to him. Which is what you probably should be doing already now that everything else has been taken care of.

“Everything is packed and ready to go. I think the boys are planning to join the dance crew and grab dinner somewhere nearby, then we’ll be out of here before midnight,” the road manager continues as he walks with you towards the backdoor of the venue. “How about you join us?”

His offer catches you off guard, yet you quickly refuse. “No, thank you, you guys go ahead. I still have some things to do, so I’ll figure something out later.”

Just as you are heading towards the exit, you are met with the guys from the dance crew, and Hanbin’s close friends, coming in from the parking lot. Most of them look freshly showered, having found the time to freshen up after getting heated from the show. They all give you a friendly greeting once they notice you there, while Shawn, one of the dancers, steps closer to you to say hi.

You look over his shoulder to confirm that Hanbin isn’t with them.

Noticing this, he immediately says to you in a low voice, “Hanbin’s back in the bus. Said he wanted to chill and take it easy for the night. He also said that he’s waiting for you to talk about something.”

“Ah, I see,” you answer him, trying to stay calm about it when your heart is palpitating at the thought of Hanbin waiting for you to come and see him.

Alone.

Which only means one thing—

“We’re heading out to get some food and maybe find some snacks and drinks for the road. Should we get you guys something to eat too?” Shawn kindly offers. You can only smile and nod while trying your best not to take notice of the way he speaks, or the way he is looking at you knowingly. You also ignore the way he seems to be insinuating something else when he speaks about you and Hanbin.

As if he knows your little secret and the real reason why Hanbin is expecting you.

“Sure, that would be lovely. Thanks for offering. He’ll probably skip dinner if you don’t get him something to eat.”

The dancer grins. “I wouldn’t be too worried about it if I were you.”

Shawn’s cryptic answer stays with you for a while as you walk away from the group. Yet you try not to let it bother you too much as you start making your way to find Hanbin.

The night breeze welcomes you as you step out of the establishment. Then the silence thickens around you as you walk across the quiet parking lot. You merely take a moment to breathe in the fresh air around you and pay no heed to everything else, having only one destination in mind. But you make sure to remain within the shadows formed under the line of trees on the edge of the parking lot, keeping away from the fans who might still be lingering around or taking their time leaving the place.

It doesn’t take long before you start seeing them.

There are some standing beyond the trees in pairs while others are gathering in small groups. Some appear to be lounging around and resting, no doubt trying to come down from the high that they had all gotten from the concert before tracking their way back home or to their hotels. Others seem to linger without any apparent reason. Perhaps nothing other than hoping to get one last glimpse of Hanbin or get noticed by him and his boys if they would just wait around a bit longer.

You watch them for a brief moment before continuing your walk across the parking lot. Parked at a dark corner at the far end of the parking lot, it feels like it is taking you forever to finally reach the tour bus. As it they had all the intention to tuck it away and keep it from being seen.

Once the tour bus appears in your line of sight, your heart stutters.

Under the night sky and kept in the dark, the vehicle looks almost inconspicuous. It doesn’t draw too much attention even with its size and how out of place it seems to be here.

Yet it draws something else out of your thoughts as you take a good look at it.

It brings a smile to your face when you remember how it all started, how Hanbin and his team came up with the idea of travelling between places in such a bus throughout this tour. He sold the idea as a way for him to make the most out of it, to embrace every moment that he could get and be able to visit different places in between. He also talked about his wish to live life like a rockstar while he is on the road—something which was quite alarming and made you worry at first, hence why you have been joining him through the whole tour.

So far, it has been rare for you to join him and his tight crew riding on the bus during the overnight drives, except for the short journeys and when you had to work side by side with him between shows.

Other times, you have been travelling solo whenever you were required to. Only so you could be ahead of the entourage to make sure that all the preparations needed for his show would be in place by the time they arrived.

Tonight, that would be one of the things that is going to change.

With one last destination left on the tour, the bus and its passengers will be heading down the road right away instead of remaining in this city for the night. And you are going to be joining them on the bus to get to the next destination instead of travelling solo to the next city.

But as you walk towards the bus, you can feel, deep down, that the travel arrangement wouldn’t be the only thing that is going to be different tonight.

The place around you is dark and quiet. So quiet that you can almost hear the sound of your rapid heartbeat echoing around you as you reach for the door. Your breath grows heavy as you open the door and climb your way in. More silence welcomes you, which only thickens further once the door is closed behind you.

Making your way to the back of the bus, you walk past the seats where everyone would usually waste their time while on the road, loitering and chattering loudly with a ton of noises filling this area. The kitchen and the dining area look partly messy—with bags of potato chips and empty bottles left unattended on the counter, even when the tables are wiped clean—and you wonder just how much mess will be added here later once the boys are back.

And then you reach the area where the bunk beds are. The sleeping quarters that everyone would use to rest and spend the night in while the bus is driving across cities and between borders. With only individual curtains giving each bunk its privacy, noises from outside can still filter through in the night.

Thinking about this as you walk through the row of bunk beds only brings you back—way back—to the night which started it all. The same night which gave you the reason to be here, tracing your steps through the bus to look for Hanbin.

It was after the second show when you tracked down this quiet aisle with the same purpose which led to one small mistake that started an entire ripple effect. You came here that night when Hanbin suddenly disappeared after the show while everyone was ready to grab dinner. You came back to the tour bus to find and fetch him so he could eat, knowing how often he would skip his meal when he was focused deeply in work.

That night was exactly like tonight, with everyone away and on their way to find the nearest local restaurant, leaving the bunk beds empty. At least, that was what you had expected, believing that Hanbin must have lost track of time when he immediately dove straight back into work the way he often would just to burn out the rest of his energy for the night.

You were heading further back of the vehicle to find him when a faint sound of a groan caught your attention. It sounded like someone or something was in one of the bunk beds, which drew your curiosity. So you stopped to listen.

A bunch of other noises started to become more noticeable then, and it didn’t take long for you to notice that the sounds came from the last bunk on the row. The one that Hanbin was meant to use during the long trips on the road. You carefully crept closer so you could listen better. To know just what was happening behind the curtain.

There was a mix of cryptic sounds heard coming out of it—the sounds of sheets ruffling, soft knocking against the side of the bunk, and more soft groans.

You wondered for a moment if it was really Hanbin inside the bunk. But when you started suspecting him to be the source of those sounds, you immediately felt annoyed. Livid, even. When the thought of him doing something as risky as getting it on with some stranger crossed your mind.

It didn’t help when you remembered about his wish to live like a rockstar. Remembered how he had spoken about it before the tour. The thought further led you into believing that he may have actually done it. That he had invited someone, perhaps a willing fan of his, onto the bus.

It made you want to strangle him just thinking about him actually doing it. The last thing you needed was for him to get caught in trouble in the middle of the tour. Much less for him to get entangled in malicious rumours if something like this should get out in public.

As the noises continued, you gently grabbed the hem of the curtain, ready to throw it back and bust him. A myriad of scolding went through your head at that point as you were ready to make him pay for it.

Another groan was heard and you decided to move once you confirmed that it was really his voice that you heard. Ignoring the way the sound of his pleasured moan sent tingles through your body, you whipped the curtain back to catch him in the act, only to regret it as soon as you saw him.

Hanbin looked like a deer caught in the headlights when he looked up. His eyes were wide open with fear, yet you could also see a dark need emerging from his gaze which became more visible the moment he realised that it was you.

But you already had your attention somewhere else to notice it.

Reclining in the tight space within his bunk bed, Hanbin was bare-chested, wearing nothing more but his shorts that had been pushed down under his hips. You just couldn’t resist looking down to see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, fully exposed and standing hard against his stomach.

Once the shock wore off, his truth finally came out. He confided in you about his need to release all the energy that was still boiling within him after the show. That it would have made it hard for him to be able to feel calm in the night unless he had all of that energy drained out of him. To have it tamed, so that he could finally relax and have his proper rest.

“I don’t really think it’s working, though,” he breathlessly said then with a bitter chuckle. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone. And it’s kind of hard to make myself cum when my head is at the wrong places.”

“What if I give you a helping hand? Will it work?” The offer slipped right out of your lips before you could do anything to stop it. You didn’t even realise what you were offering him until the moment you saw the look on his face. He looked surprised, but intrigued at the same time. Then there was this new emotion which seemed raw and fierce coming out through his gaze when he considered taking your offer.

“Why would I say no to that?” was what he said as he leaned back, allowing you to take matters into your own hands, literally, as you fixed his problems simply with the touch of your hands until he was able to find release.

That was the first time that you crossed the line just to help him. And it was definitely not the last.

The arrangement continued after the next show, and the next, and you kept coming to his aid at the end of every concert throughout the ongoing tour. Your help had become the best option available rather than allowing him to find other ways to get out of his predicament once the night got deeper and he was still too hyped up to sleep.

After a short while, your carnal favour has escalated from merely giving him your special aid through your helping hands to taking him deep in your mouth once he needed to be stimulated further.

That was as far as you had gotten since this arrangement started. Never once had it led to something more. And Hanbin had always been the focus of your “service”, except for the few times he returned the favour by giving you release with the touch of his deft hands when you had to do this in the privacy of his hotel room.

Your body trembles in heat. Both from reminiscing all the sinful act you had done to help him and from the pleasure that you gained in return through his touch.

Reaching the end of the aisle, your eyes linger on the last bunk. The curtain is drawn, and there is no sound coming out of it. You can tell that he won’t be there if you pull that curtain open, so you move on.

The only sound that you can hear comes from the small room at the back of the bus instead. The area that was meant to be the master bedroom, altered into a private cabin with sofa beds and desks which would have more purpose for someone like Hanbin.

You shouldn’t be surprised to know that Hanbin would choose to be there, waiting for you to come to him. Because you know that out of all the sections within the bus, it would be the only place that can provide you all the privacy that you may need to be able to help sort out the uncommon predicament that Hanbin might be facing tonight.

Right this moment, that is where the faint sound of his moans and slow breaths is guiding you. And you follow its lead, with your heart palpitating the closer you are to get to it.

As you gently open the door to the cabin, you find Hanbin sitting on the long sofa at the back of the room. The same sofa bed that you would use to sleep on whenever you are riding on the bus, when you are not helping Hanbin finish his work or write his music while everyone else is asleep in their bunks.

You enter the cabin, closing the door behind you. You take a moment to have a good look at him before coming to his side.

Hanbin still has the same pants that he was wearing on stage. Sill bare-chested after discarding his shirt at the end of the show to toss it to God knows where. The only difference is that he is barefoot, with his shoes left hastily on the floor. The strands of his hair—which appear to be wet with sweat—are now a complete mess with curly strands falling over his face like curtains shielding him from the dim lights illuminating the room.

Hanbin has his head tilted back as he reclines on the sofa, looking awfully exhausted after the hours-long, full-energy show that he had just concluded. You can see his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His bare skin is glistening with a thin layer of sweat that somehow makes him look even more alluring than he always has been. The glow on his skin further accentuates the lines on his chest, shoulders, and torso, making you feel the urge to touch him there.

Before you can realise it, your legs begin to move, taking you to him. At first, it appears to you that he has yet to notice your presence. Until you notice the slight tremor in his deep inhale of breath once he senses that you are coming closer.

As you come to him, Hanbin lifts his head to look at you. The dim lighting around you didn’t allow you to see it before, yet as he subtly shifts on his seat, you finally notice that he had left his pants unbuttoned and unzipped before you had gotten here.

Seeing the sight of his hard-on, partly covered by his pants while the tip is resting heavily on his stomach, it reminds you of the first night you saw him like this. Except that instead of having his hand wrapped around his hard girth, Hanbin keeps his hands to his side this time. Both are clenched tightly into the sofa, allowing you to see the tension rolling out of his body.

That tension seems to grow further when he opens his eyes, watching you coming closer to him with an intense gaze.

“You’re here,” he says once you are standing right before him. His voice almost feels like an echo in the silence that surrounds you. Still sounds hoarse after the show.

“I’m here,” you find yourself responding as if you are completely entranced by his gentle voice. You clear your throat, hoping that you can shake away the yearning in your voice before he ever notices it. “I heard you were expecting me. I came right away, assuming that you needed my assistance.”

You trail your gaze back down on his lap, eyeing closely at the sight of his hard cock. It twitches against his stomach the more you give it attention. You lick your lips, wishing for a taste. Yet you manage to keep your voice steady when you tease him, “I didn’t expect that you would have started already without me.”

A slow grin appears on his face. “There is no way I could start anything before you got here. I was waiting for you. But as you can see, I needed to do something about it when it was starting to hurt so bad.”

He stops with a hiss. His body seems to react while he converses with you. “You’re the only one who can help me during times like this,” he says to you before dragging his tongue across his lips.

There is a subtle disappointment flickering in his eyes when he adds, “Funny, I thought you would be as excited as I’ve been to finally have some time alone like this once the show ended.”

The look that you see in his eyes and the disdain you hear in his voice catch you by surprise. You didn’t truly expect that he would be anticipating this as much as you have been. It makes you feel guilty for stalling time instead of coming to see him straight away just like you were supposed to.

You had only lingered back to gather your wits before facing him. It was something that you felt needed to do, after the reactions he wrung out of you while he was performing.

Even now, you still feel hot as you are picturing him dancing, rolling his body to the music as if he was making love to it. And your body is still reacting the same way. Heat rushes through you, centering at your core. Then you look down again at his throbbing shaft, and that heat shifts into something else.

You take a deep breath and quickly move your eyes to his face to gain composure. “I was planning to come find you right away, but I had to make sure that everything was going as planned before we could go back on the road,” you try to explain yourself, even if you can tell that what you are giving him is nothing but a lame excuse.

“Is that so? I guess I can’t blame you for making sure that you’re done with the job. I almost thought that you were avoiding me,” he jokes with a feeble chuckle, to which you quickly respond with,

“I would never do that.” You surprise both him and yourself with your immediate respond. You are mostly surprised at how much you meant it. “There’s no way I could avoid you. Not at times like this, at least.”

Hanbin falls silent, making you tense for a moment. Until he lets out a relieved sigh. “That’s a relief to hear. I’m glad,” he says. A subtle tremor rises from his chest just then, and you can tell that he is still brimming with adrenaline.

The same adrenaline that he had gotten built up from the stage, and the one that you will have to tame down for him to be able to sleep during the night.

The same way it has always been. Once the music ends, the overflowing adrenaline that still remains in his body becomes out of control. And it is your job to help him come down from it.

Only that it would need a different kind of high to make it happen.

After tonight’s show, you know for sure that this would be a challenging of a task for you to deal with. You can only hope that you won’t get devoured by this new raw energy of his.

“How can I help you this time?” you offer with a soft voice that is nearly drowned by the sound of your rapid heartbeat.

“Can you—” he starts to say in a whisper, “can you strip out of your clothes this time? Please, I want to see you.”

His words, despite sounding like an inconspicuous request, are still enough to make you feel the same rushing heat building back up in your body. The only thing that you aren’t completely sure of is whether this feeling comes merely from lust.

Because the rapid flutters rising in your chest are telling you that there is something else that is present there. Something that is insisting on blooming within you despite all of your efforts to keep it away.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” you ask him, trying to make sure that he knows what he is asking of you. That he realises that complying with his request now would only mean that both of you are crossing a new line.

“I wouldn’t be asking you this if I wasn’t,” he firmly says to you, and you can almost hear his voice growing deeper and heavy with his desire for a moment before he covers it all up to say, “but you don’t have to if you don’t want to go that far.”

But you do want to. Even if it means you are crossing over boundaries, and things may escalate further than they usually would.

Somehow, you had predicted that things may turn out differently this time. Unlike those previous nights, lending him your helping hands may not be enough for you to solve this problem of his. Not tonight.

You already felt it since the show earlier, when there was a new raw energy emerging from him throughout the show. As if he was letting loose every pent-up desire on stage, which brought up the rumbling energy now still emerging through his body as he is sitting there, waiting for you to make a decision.

Fulfilling his request seems risky when you are already getting too deep. You were never supposed to get your emotions involved. Yet it still happened. It happened before you realised it, and now it appears to you that it is already too late for you to try and stop it.

You have made up your mind to try and ignore your treacherous heart. To focus on doing your job until the final day of his tour. Except that the answer you give him next doesn’t seem to support your decision and your mind decides to take a new risk instead.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it,” you calmly say to him while doing your best not to show how much his words are affecting you.

“It would be better that way, after all, since you nearly ruined my favourite blouse when you made a mess on me the last time we did this,” you simply add, as you try to convince yourself that there is really nothing else behind this. That you just want to make it more practical.

Your comment draws a grin to his face, as if he is recalling that salacious night in his head right after you brought it up. The night when you slipped into his dressing room right after a show, using the limited time you had to fix his problem before you were supposed to drive him and the dancers to the hotel where everyone could rest for the night.

Except that in the rush of him finding release, Hanbin made a complete mess out of himself, and you, when drops of his essence fell all over your blouse. It would have been impossible for people not to notice you coming out of his dressing room wearing nothing but his sweatshirt, had there been people still loitering around after the show was over.

You had initially believed that your secret was safe with you when you managed to slip out unnoticed, until you remember Shawn’s sly grin earlier when he spoke to you about Hanbin.

Once again, you try not to dwell on it too much and focus back on the present. Back to the man who is sitting right in front of you, with his chest and cock partly out, as he waits for you to make a move.

Looking straight into his eyes, you reach down to grip the hem of your blouse and strip it off of your body. Your trousers come next, as you unbutton them at the waist and start pushing the fabric down your hips.

Hanbin’s eyes never waver from you while this is happening. The way his gaze is so focused on you seems to only urge you to continue putting on a show for him. So you begin to sway your hips from side to side as you slowly peel your pants off of you, before letting everything fall on the floor.

Stepping out of your shoes and the pile of your discarded clothes, you leave your undergarments on and stand right between his parted legs. His gaze follows you as you lower yourself to the floor, kneeling down right before him.

“What do you need me to do next?”

Hanbin drags his tongue across his lips as he considers his options. Having you kneeling in front of him, with your face hovering close to his crotch is already enough to taunt and challenge him.

Tension rises between you as he makes you wait.

The air feels cold on your mostly bare skin, yet your body feels hot as your anticipation increases with each passing second. Being in this position makes you feel completely exposed and helpless, as if you are submitting to his control. Slowly, your knees begin to feel sore from holding up your weight. The rising ache only brings forth the other sensations rising in your body, making you feel sensitive to the slightest movement he makes when he shifts in his seat.

This wouldn’t be the first time that your body is showing these reactions. When you are made to feel your own carnal desire rising in your body at the thought of pleasing him and fulfilling his needs.

And this was the reason why you took your sweet time coming to him. Because you couldn’t face him when you had a myriad of emotions rushing through your body. You are already made weak by your forbidden feelings, and it would only be made worse once he brings out your dark desire.

Because you know that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself once that happens.

A gentle touch on the top of your head brings your attention back to him before your mind gets too far and your insecurities take over. At the same time, his touch calms you down.

The moment you look into his eyes, everything else seems to fade away. This is no longer a part of your job, and the world outside of this cabin no longer exists. It stops you from questioning your decision of ever getting yourself involved in this whole thing.

“Help me take these off. I can barely move a muscle since I got here,” he calmly claims with a soft chuckle, completely oblivious to the turmoil happening in your head.

He probably doesn’t even know how his simple request is making your chest dip.

You bite back the bashful smile that comes to your face. “Oh, poor you. Here, let me help,” you say to him with a tease, even if it falls short once your eyes return to his twitching erection.

You ignore the warm flutters rising in your chest as you reach up to grab a hold of his waistband. With a firm grip, you start pulling his pants and boxer pants together. Which doesn’t really take a lot of effort when they were barely holding on around his hips, already pushed down just enough for him to free his rigid cock from its restraint. Your fingers graze his skin as you keep pulling them down his hips, causing him to tremble under your touch.

It gives you some self-satisfaction to be able to draw this kind of reaction from him. It feels good to see that you are not the only one getting affected by all the tension. So you tease him further, keeping light contact with his skin as you continue to bring his clothes down his legs.

“There. Better?” you ask him with a low voice once the intrusive clothes of his are now gone.

Seeing him sitting there completely naked leaves you breathless. Yet you find it hard to look away. His erection seems to grow harder under your perusing gaze. It causes the urge to touch him to grow stronger.

“Touch it,” he suddenly says, as if he knows what you are thinking just by looking at your clenched hands. “Please,” he adds almost breathlessly, “I want to feel your hands on me.”

Words fail you. While his words pull you like a spell. You reach out to touch him, starting from his thighs, where you trace his skin lightly with the tips of your fingers, drawing light shudders through his body. You continue until you finally reach the area between his legs when you finally stop.

His whole body tenses. Anticipation rolls through him as you move your hand closer. Light fingers start hovering lightly on his hard-on, with only a subtle brush or two grazing at his cock. Each light touch you give him only makes you want more. You want to feel his skin under your palm. To feel the familiar pulse coming from his cock the moment you touch him. Yet you resist the temptation just a bit longer. You want to tease him enough to the point that he feels like he is on the edge before you finally continue.

And he doesn’t disappoint you when he soon reacts. With a soft whimper, Hanbin subtly pushes his hips up, as if trying to guide you into touching him further.

No longer able to deny your own desire, you finally give in and wrap a gentle hand around the base of his cock.

At your touch, Hanbin reacts with a groan. His chest trembles as he tries to calm himself with a deep inhale of breath. His hips almost come up from the sofa when you start moving your hand, sliding your gentle grip up and down the length of his cock.

You continue to move, keeping a steady pace and drawing more and more reactions from him. His rocking hips, his rumbling chest as he moans in pleasure, and his hands that are clenching tightly right by his side.

You soon notice how quickly he loses control of himself once he starts thrusting back up into your hand. Seeing how badly he needs this release, you give a firm grip around his girth and slowly pick up your speed, moving your hand up and down his length until the sound of his laboured breathing fills the room.

“Fuck, that’s it. That feels perfect,” he groans with his head tilted back. Shudders after shudders rush through him, and you keep up what you are doing now when he doesn’t make a move to stop you.

Until you start to feel it coming.

A pulse rises from his girth, pressing against your palm. and you take it as a cue that it is time for him to reach his climax. After giving him a few more strokes, you lean down and tease the head of his cock with your tongue. He lets out a deep groan once he feels your lips wrapped around the tip, covering him with your warm mouth.

You continue the light strokes along the length of his shaft and reach down with your other hand, touching his balls with a light hand and start massaging him lightly as you begin licking your way up and down his member. As the sound of his moans increases rapidly, you finally take his whole cock into your mouth and slide all the way down, taking as much as you can until he is deep in your throat.

You suck hard as you push him in and out of your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip each time you come up and tightening your throat when you come back down to swallow him. With your hand, you continue stroking the rest of his length that you cannot cover, until you feel his muscles tightening, his moans stuttering with heavy breathing, a sign that he is ready to explode.

With one last stroke, and giving him one last hard suck, you swallow him deeply until it finally happens. His hands come up to the back of your head to keep you in place as he rocks his hips, thrusting into your mouth. It takes only a few thrusts before he finally comes into your mouth. His warm release falls on your tongue and the cavern of your mouth, with some drops shooting their way to the back of your throat.

The last one makes you gargle, yet with his hands keeping you in place and your mouth still pumping his length, you make no move to pull away. You continue sucking, swallowing every last drop until the only thing that remains is the constant pulse of his blood pumping from the base of his cock to the tip that is still buried in your throat.

You don’t stop, until he finally has enough and releases you, and you pull away so his cock pops out of your lips and falls back onto his stomach.

You take a moment to catch your breath. But once your mind is cleared, you realise too late how hot your body feels now, triggered solely by the act of pleasing him. There is heat rising between your quivering legs, and you somehow know that if you reach down, you will find yourself growing wet.

Hanbin’s hands return to you, touching your face gently so you can look at him again.

His face seems flushed after his release, with a mix of afterglow and raw, unfulfilled hunger that refuses to go away. The glow in his eyes makes you grow curious at first, until your eyes trail down his heaving chest, stopping at his toned stomach to see his cock, still hard and mostly rigid even after its release.

“As you can see, seems like I’m going to need a little more than that,” he says with a lack of regret shown in his voice.

This situation makes you laugh. “A little?” you tease him, making him grin.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” he returns with an easy shrug, while your chest feels heavy at the thought of this continuing into something else. Something more risky.

You realise that you are not feeling this way because you are unwilling, but because deep down, you know that you want this. You have wanted this for some time, ever since the pleasure which you gain from helping him becomes so addicting and your feelings become deeply involved.

You can barely hear your own voice under the sound of your heartbeat when you ask him, “So what do you have in mind?”

Hanbin opens his mouth, only to close it again. “I don’t want to make you do something that you don’t want to,” he says while gauging your reaction. Ever since you started spending close, nearly intimate moments like this with him, you have learned that he can be a bit perceptive when it comes to you.

And it does a lot of things to your heart when he can easily tell what you need. How he always keeps a close eye on you to make sure to notice any discomfort coming from you.

“No, that’s not what this is,” you answer him with a soft voice as your hands return to touch him again. You trace your fingers on the inner side of his thighs, stopping before you reach his cock when you finally admit to him, “I want this. I want to do all I can to help you.”

And help myself satiate my needs, the little voice in your head whispers just as your eyes find him. You hate to admit how hopeful you are feeling as you wait, expecting him to express to you exactly what he needs.

The same way you always make it happen. It makes things easier for you when he guides you through it. Even though it has never been easy for you to deal with the lingering aftermath.

“Good. Now come up here,” he breathlessly says. The need in his voice feels so intense that makes you feel entranced. Pulled by his demand as you carefully plant one knee and the other on either side of him to get over his lap.

Hanbin has his hands on your waist, helping you up with a gentle hold. Which only makes it hard for you to remain calm when his touch makes your heart stutter. Butterfly wings fluttering wildly from deep within your chest just from that simple touch alone.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, as he notices how you become still under the touch of his hands. There is a deep sigh in his voice. It makes you wonder if he is getting affected by the contact at the same time.

“Just a bit nervous,” you find yourself admitting to him before you can stop it. You quickly bite your tongue, stopping yourself from suddenly dumping your true feelings and trying to divert his attention. “I never realised how tight this sofa is until we’re both sitting on it together like this.”

He softly chuckles. “I’ll take care of you,” he says to you gently as he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you up against his chest. “But if you’re not sure about this—”

“I’m sure. Positively sure about this,” you quickly cut him off. The words just come out of you before you realise it happening.

A smile grows on his face. One that makes you swoon and you simply melt into his hold. “That’s all I need to hear,” is all he has to say to you, before he surprises you by pulling you to him and pressing his lips on yours.

You grow tense for a moment and he slows down, giving you a chance to process this over. Maybe push him away if you are feeling uncomfortable.

Because he never kissed you on the lips before. Not like this. Not with this much passion and tenderness that makes you feel like your heart has grown wings and they are fluttering wildly in your chest.

Slowly, you begin to relax, returning his kiss with the same gentleness that he is giving you. The kiss continues on, and on, until he suddenly traces your lips with his tongue, and you are made to feel as if you are melting into hot lava.

Hanbin’s hand slides up your back. His touch feels distant as you have your mind muddled by his hot kiss. Though your body still arches into his touch, as if having a mind of its own. You run your hands through his messy hair, pulling at his locks while you are returning his kiss.

A soft tug is felt against the skin on your back. The next thing you know, he is pulling your bra off of you. He pulls back from the kiss as he throws the bra away, while you let out a gasp when a cold breeze touches your skin.

Hanbin licks his lips as he takes a good, intense look at your bare breasts. “All this time, I’ve always wondered—”

The sound of the door at the front of the bus being opened cuts him off before he can finish what he is trying to say. Then the sound of low chatters and laughter follows. You immediately wrap your arms around yourself when you realise that some of the boys are already returning from dinner.

Blood is drained from your face at the thought of being caught in the middle of this. “Oh no, I forgot to lock the doors.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Hanbin hushes you with a soft murmur while pressing a finger on your lips. “They know that we need our privacy, so no one will be looking for us back here. Just remember to keep it quiet while they’re still out there.”

Before you have the chance to ask what he means to say, he pulls your head down and presses his lips on yours. Once again, he silences your thoughts until the only thing that you can focus on is the present.

To focus on him.

For someone who is filled with tension, Hanbin’s kiss feels gentle. As if he wants to take it slow, to take his time while making sure that you won’t break. The soft touch he keeps on your waist makes you realise that he is giving you a chance to set the pace, to allow you to slip away if you want none of this.

But there is no escaping this when have already given in, allowing yourself to submit completely to your true desire. It isn’t hard to let yourself go when you can feel from the way he is kissing you that Hanbin wants this as much as you do.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you allow yourself to take more. You meet his kiss by responding to it with the same fervour. You return every mesh of his lips on yours with your own, then you open your mouth to let him slip his tongue right in.

Hanbin seizes his chance right away, deepening the kiss by pressing harder. His breathing grows heavier as he swirls his tongue around yours, to which you respond by sucking his tongue and pushing back, drawing a faint sound of a groan rumbling through his chest.

You feel his hands moving right then, tracing your skin and rubbing at your curves, before finding your bottom cheeks. He covers your soft flesh with his palms and gives it a light squeeze, pushing you further into his chest and drawing a warm pulse deep inside your core when your covered pussy rubs against his cock.

Feeling delirious from his touch and his hot kiss, you run your hands over the smooth muscles on his chest. The tips of your fingers slide down the thin layer of sweat that is covering his skin, while feeling him growing even hotter under your touch.

All of a sudden, Hanbin pulls away from the kiss. He narrows his eyes when he looks at you, giving you a look filled with lust.

His gaze moves away from your face as he moves his hands again. His eyes follow his touch as he traces his way up to your breasts. A tremor is visible in his inhale of breath as he gently presses his palms on your soft mounds, matching the subtle tremors that come awake through your body from his touch.

As soon as his fingers touch your breasts, your nipples grow hard in an instant, and they seem to grow more sensitive the more he touches you that even a soft blow of the breeze makes you shiver. Once he takes notice of this, Hanbin bends his head lower and takes one of the pulsing buds between his lips. He gives a light suck, then brushes his tongue against it. You grit your teeth at the sensation that he is bringing out of you.

You almost forget where you are or the fact that you are no longer alone as Hanbin scrapes his teeth against your flesh, teasing you for a moment before biting to the point of pain. While you resist the urge to moan, your hand wanders down his chest, feeling his heartbeat stuttering under the tips of your fingers, then you continue your way down to his stomach.

Within moments, your fingers brush the head of his cock. The need to touch him grows stronger then, and you trace your fingertips along his shaft. He moans against your breast, affected by your soft, yet indecent touch, and it pushes him to move further.

His hand moves down your waist, pulling the waistband of your panties and tries to slip his fingers into the fabric to touch you. Yet your position above him isn’t allowing him to dive deeper to find the source of your pulsing heat.

With a groan, Hanbin pulls away. He opens his mouth, and you begin to move back, expecting him to tell you to strip out of your panties. But he stops himself as he looks down, studying the offensive fabric for a brief moment before his hands slip under the waistband and he starts pulling.

“Wait, what are you—” You are just starting to question what he is up to when the ripping sound of the fabric fills the room. He doesn’t tear it into pieces like how you had often read it in those steamy romance novels, and he isn’t doing it so expertly either. His brows are furrowed deeply as he struggles with it and it takes him a while before he can get the job done. But as soon as he has the sides ripped up, he pulls the entire thing off of you and tosses it away while cursing out at it.

“Are you crazy?” you ask him with your mouth gaping open, while he only exhales sharply.

His brows are still furrowed when he answers you, “I didn’t want you to step down. Can you please wear something thinner next time so it’ll be easier for me to take it off of you?”

“You can’t be serious?” you ask him with a baffled laugh.

“You know I don’t joke about things like this,” he says with a sly grin. He may not seem so serious about it when he said it, but knowing him, you know that he truly meant it. “Now, where were we?”

You are still baffled by his words that you fail to respond in time, and he takes the chance to move his hands down your hips. Hanbin has one hand holding you firmly at your hips as he dips the other between your legs, tracing the tips of his fingers up your inner thighs while gently guiding you to part your legs a bit wider.

It feels like a struggle to get into position, but you somehow manage. Then he wastes no time to move his hand upward until his fingertips come brushing at your nether lips.

Your hips lurch forward to meet his touch as he parts them and starts tracing your hot sex. With how sensitive and needy you have become, it doesn’t take much for him to make you start moaning and panting.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs while looking amused, but not surprised. He also seems mesmerised as he looks down at his fingers as he slips then between your folds and easily finds the slick mess that was formed while you were pleasuring him.

He continues stroking your wet slit, drawing more and more of your arousal so that you can hear the slick sound he makes with his fingers.

His touch draws a gasp out of your lips, and just when you are just beginning to feel high with pleasure, Hanbin bends down and starts sucking at your breast again, intensifying the sensation further that you simply lose all control of your body.

Your hips begin to rock, moving back and forth against his touch and in tune with each stroke of his fingers on your slit. As he slides his fingers to find your clit, your moan grows a bit louder, and your movement becomes more erratic as you are drunk with carnal pleasure.

Hanbin takes this chance to grow bold with his touch, as he gently slides a finger into your tight pussy. He feels you clenching around him tightly in response, and he begins pumping his digit in and out of you, drawing more shudders through your body with each stroke.

While he works his fingers into your pussy, he uses his thumb to explore around it. He glides the wet digit over your clit and presses down while he pushes the rest of his fingers into your depth.

You let out a breathy moan. Something that isn’t meant to happen, but the wanton sound comes out with your exhale of breath. And in your effort to try to hold back from erupting in pleasure, you simply fail to control yourself.

Yet the sound you are making only draws an approving sound rumbling through his chest. He gives you a muffled moan as he keeps his mouth latched onto your breast possessively.

Beyond the blissful fog filling your head, you can hear the faint sounds of footsteps walking away, bags being dropped, and then the distant voice saying something about leaving dinner behind and getting drinks, before you can hear the door of the bus closing. You can barely recognise those sounds, and it doesn’t register to you what it means at first, until you finally remember that you haven’t been alone on the bus for quite a while.

Yet that they are gone, there is nothing left behind but silence. The sounds of your ragged breath and his soft groan are the only ones left to fill the room.

Hanbin finally releases your breast with the sound of a pop coming out of his lips. His hand quickly comes to where his mouth has been, though it doesn’t mean that he is done working his mouth on your skin. From your breasts, he traces your skin with his hot lips—up to your collarbones, then lingering on the side of your neck.

Your head falls back. A content sigh slips out of your lips from the way he is tasting you, kissing and nibbling around the spot beneath your ear which has always been quite sensitive.

“I need to be inside you,” he finally asks you with his lips grazing against your neck. He makes it hard for you to respond with his hot kisses pressing on your skin and his fingers moving in slow circles against your slit.

The pleasure that he wrings out of your body feels maddening. It builds in a slow rise, but is still enough to make you feel high in bliss.

“I—” you sigh out an answer, only to continue with a series of moans as you rock your hips on his lap. Too lost in your wanton need, you grind against his fingers, needing something more. Something to get you to find your release.

“I know that you want it too. I can feel it whenever you try to hold back,” he whispers as he leans back, searching for your truth with his deep gaze looking straight into your eyes. Then he surprises you, making you wonder if you have always been so transparent when he asks, “Don’t you ever feel frustrated at night when you need something but can’t have it? Why deny yourself of pleasure when I’m right here?”

You hate how right he is and you hate that you can’t even deny every word he just said to you.

Every time you are done with your carnal favours, you always come out of it feeling unsettled. You have always found yourself struggling on your own in the aftermath, left to spend the long hours in those nights tossing and turning in bed.

Alone and horny.

Frustrated because you are left with a need that has yet to be fulfilled.

Disappointed because you have no other way to find release other than your own touch. Which would never be sufficient to give you exactly what you need.

He pushes his fingers back into your pussy, drawing a low moan out of your lips which he covers with a kiss. “Let me return the favour, baby. You’ve done so much for me. Let me do this,” he murmurs against your lips before pressing a gentle kiss, giving you time to answer, while using every sinful touch he is giving you to push you into opening up.

Though there is really no need for him to do it, when you have already made up your mind the moment you heard his offer the first time.

Because how are you supposed to refuse when he keeps saying all the right things? And when you can clearly see how genuine he is being? Or when your body is humming with a wanton need that keeps begging to be released, and he keeps touching you at the right places which gives you carnal pleasure?

“If you want to talk about returning favours,” you start to answer him with a sigh while running your fingers down his heaving chest, “you should know that I only take what I am owed.”

Hanbin grins at this. He pulls back slowly while drawing his fingers out of your tight pussy, leaving behind a shuddering bliss in its wake. You watch him bring his fingers up to his lips, each one coated with your slick arousal, which he lowly licks with his tongue until he tastes every last drop.

The sight of him drinking your essence captivates you so that your head spins, almost making you miss what he says to you next, “You don’t have to worry about that at all. I plan on paying everything that I owe you—” he says before tasting the last drop and bringing his hands back to your hips, “even if it takes all night long to pay my debt.”

“Really?” you ask him, “I’ll keep that in mind, just don’t take back your words once we begin.”

You reach down, grabbing his hard erection and finding it already grown back to its full girth while he was pleasing you. You give him a few strokes, drawing a gasp from his lips, before aligning the hard tip of his cock right at your entrance.

The urge to sit down on his hard-on feels so strong. Yet you fight it just a bit longer. You have known that you have grown awfully wet down below, and there is no doubt a mess has been created there from his sinful touches. You can hear the sound of your slick arousal echoing in the room as you guide the tip of his cock back and forth against your slit, coating him with your essence.

You continue this until you are ready. Until you feel him pushing his hips upward slightly to press his cock against your pussy. With a shudder, you put his cock right back at your entrance and slowly start lowering yourself on him. The sound of his deep moan erupts as you slowly sink down the length of his cock, stopping briefly when there is some restraint from your pulsing walls, keeping you from taking him deeper.

“Fuck, so tight—” he groans deeply, while you can only respond back with a soft mewl. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Mm,” is the only thing that you can give him when words fail you. Spasm after spasm of pleasure rocks through you even when you are both silent, remaining in a standstill while your bodies are slowly adjusting to one another.

“We need to move, baby. You’re sucking me and we’re barely starting.”

It feels tight, and your legs are trembling so much that it almost makes it hard for you to move. Even pushing yourself up and down his length seems like an effort.

But once the series of pulses begins to wane down, you finally gather enough will to start moving. After moving slightly back and forth, nearly rocking against him, you manage to take more of him. Taking him inch by delicate inch until he is completely embedded inside your slick heat.

With a shuddering moan, you slump forward against his chest. Because the pleasure you are feeling with him buried deep inside you is too much.

He makes you feel full. His girth seems to be the perfect fit inside you. He also makes you feel a myriad of sensations that you have never felt before even just by filling you up like this.

Perhaps it has been too long since you have gotten laid that your body responds to him so easily. It has been hard for you to hook up with anyone while you are attached to this job, and while you dedicated your long hours to fulfil his needs.

Hanbin notices the way your body is taking its time to adjust to the sensation rushing through you. Instead of rushing through things, he tightens his hold on your waist to keep you close, holding you up while you let the shudders pass.

Hot kisses are pressed on your neck, chin, and then your face, as Hanbin tries to soothe your body to relax against him and help you embrace the pleasure. It takes a moment, but you finally feel the tension in your body lessening in his hold.

That is when you start moving.

Starting with tentative rocking at first, before you slowly start gaining more and more confidence just as the rush of pleasure continues to build up and take over. Scooting forward and back, you rub yourself against his length. Then you gather enough strength on your legs and begin moving up and down his length, causing his cock to retreat and reenter you with each move.

Your carnal desire quickly takes over control, and your body continues to move naturally in a steady rocking. He raises his hands and begins caressing your breasts, using the rhythm of your rocking hips to gently knead your soft flesh.

“That feels—good,” you moan softly, mewling while arching your chest into him so you can press your breasts into his palms. He takes this chance to pinch your nipples, playing with them by rubbing and rolling them between his thumbs and forefinger, until he draws an intense wave of pleasure rushing throughout your body.

Your rocking quickens, and with the way you are arching into him, you are inadvertently grinding your clit against his pubic bone, drawing more and more of those delicate shivers of pleasure surging inside you. They rise through your chest and neck, and once your legs begin to quiver harder, you start losing balance and the rocking of your hips grows unsteady.

His hands come down to your hips, giving you a firm hold to keep you from flailing and falling back from the sofa. Humming softly, Hanbin becomes aware of the way you are shaking on top of him. He gives you a moment to ride your pleasure before he takes over and starts pumping his cock into you.

“I...fucking…knew it,” he groans, saying each word between each thrust he is giving you. He slams harder and harder, closing his eyes as he takes this moment to savour the pleasure that he is feeling from being inside you.

“I’ve pictured this so many times, and it feels way better than I imagined it would,” you hear him say with ragged breaths. Your hips buck in surprise, but he tightens his grip on your hips and increases the pace of his fucking, pushing all thoughts, any word you wanted to say to him, out the window.

Your fingers sink deeper into his bare shoulders as you hold on tightly to him through the rough fucking he is giving you. The pleasure feels so intense. But the sudden tightness in your chest has nothing to do with the sparks rising right where you are joined, when your heart seems to swell at his admission.

To even think that he has been thinking of you this way, for wanting this same thing as you do for a long time, seems unfathomable.

But you cannot say that you had never suspected it before. You still remember faintly hearing him say your name on that first night you caught him pleasing himself, even if you had suppressed this memory to the back of your mind in your denial. Though the rest of the time you saw the signs had been real, when he kept his eyes open each time you assisted him with his needs, refusing to look away from you as he embraced his release.

You open your eyes just as he does the same. The look you see coming out of his gaze makes your heart lodged higher in your chest. Because beyond the lust, beyond the desire, you see deep longing looking back at you, returning every yearning that you feel for him as he continues to rock his hips in rapid successions.

Hanbin pulls your head down until your mouths are joined. He drinks in the sounds of your moans with a deep kiss. Your breasts bounce with each hard thrust he keeps giving you. Each hard tip keeps rubbing against his chest, drawing more wicked sensations through your body which pushes you closer towards your climax.

Right before you can reach it, Hanbin suddenly stops. He trembles as he holds back from his own release, starting from his legs that are locked under your weight to his chest which heaves with deep, ragged breaths.

You open your mouth to protest and whine, but stop yourself when you look into his eyes. You can see his intention looking back at you and instantly know that this is not over yet.

He may have denied both of you from your final release, but he is not done with you yet.

Keeping his hands on your hips, he gives you a firm hold as he rolls your bodies together, flipping your positions until you are laid right beneath him.

He lifts your legs in the air, sending you sinking into the sofa as he places your legs on his shoulders. In a blink of an eye, he slides his cock back into you, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips when he pushes in with one firm thrust, drawing a rapid set of spasms from your walls pressing around him. As you look up to him, his eyes are dark with lust, clear desire written all over his face when he begins rocking, thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace.

“Hanbin—!” you hiss out his name as he continues fucking you to oblivion.

Yet hearing you calling out his name seems to work like a spell. It draws him to move quicker, pumping deeper inside you, until all that you can feel is his hardness pushing in and filling you up completely to the brim.

Allowing himself to get lost in his carnal desire, he no longer cares about the noises that he draws out from both of you while he chases for his release. It feels so intense, so hot, so carnal, that you almost feel like you are melting into the sofa while your whole body trembles violently under each of his hard thrusts.

Being in this position, you are made helpless. With your body being folded under his weight, it makes you feel off-balanced. There is no escape as he drives into you, pushing you into the height of bliss.

But you refuse to stay still, wanting to give back and push you both further and faster to find climax. Reaching up, you hold on tightly to his biceps. Keeping a steady leverage there as you rock your hips back up, returning every thrust he is giving you with your own push.

You scream out his name at how good it feels. The pleasure that feels like ecstasy rolling through your body, shooting straight back up to his rocking hips until you feel him shuddering above you.

“That feels so good. I’m close, baby,” he groans, just as you feel the first wave of your climax building rapidly inside you.

“Please, Hanbin. I’m also close,” you moan deeply, almost breathless with the intensity of your pleasure taking over your body. “I’m going to come.”

He reaches down between your rocking bodies without missing a single thrust. His fingers come down right at where you are joined. With a trembling groan, he finds your clit and gives it a pinch.

Pain and pleasure spark through your body. Your muscles grow tight, clenching around him, before your orgasm comes crashing through your body, one intense spasm to another. Hanbin cups the nape of your neck as he continues to pump into you hard and fast, fucking you through your orgasm until it feels like it will never end.

“Fuck—you’re so tight, baby,” he grunts. “You’re gripping at me.”

His voice fades in and out as your orgasm rolls through you. Once again, your pussy clenches tightly around him, and your final orgasm finally pushes him through his own. He comes with a shout, and you feel him twitching inside you before he starts shooting his warm release inside you. His slow rocking carries on with pulse after pulse of his climax until he fills you up with the very last drop of cum.

Exhausted and spent, Hanbin collapsed on top of you, completely out of breath. While you no longer have the energy to push him away. He waits until all the spasms growing in your bodies start to calm down when he finally pulls out of you.

While you fall helplessly on the sofa, breathless and high in your blissful fog, Hanbin moves away to grab a clean paper towel before returning to you.

He takes his time taking care of you, gently cleaning you off from the mess that has been created from your intense lovemaking. Each delicate brush on your skin draws light sparks from your body that still feels sensitive to the touch. Slowly, he draws your senses back alive, yet his soothing touches help you relax with a content sigh.

Once he is done, Hanbin rolls you over to face him as he falls right beside you on the plush sofa.

As you lie there by his side, in a post-orgasmic bliss and limbs that feel too heavy for you to move, your mind begins to race. There is no stopping it when you start wondering, questioning about what will happen next. You have crossed boundaries as his personal aid, and what you had taken as your personal responsibility to take care of him has now become something else.

“That was—” you try to speak once you find your voice again. Yet no words come out of you when you have no idea what to say to him.

“Amazing? Sensational?” he teases you while wiggling his eyebrows.

You laugh, shaking your head even when deep down, you cannot really deny it. It was amazing. Shocking and fully insane, may also be the perfect way to describe it.

As you lie down beside him in the tight space of the plush sofa bed, you look at his face closely, still unable to believe that what just happened was real.

“I mean, whatever works. As long as you enjoyed it,” you find yourself saying this to him as you try to process this moment.

Because everything feels like a dream.

Except what remains from your orgasm still lingers like a murmur through your entire body, showing you how real everything was. There is the slickness you still feel oozing out of you when you shift closer to him. Not to mention the soreness between your legs that is still present.

Even lying down side by side with him like this doesn’t feel real at all. You may have spent the past few weeks flirting, teasing, and even satisfying each other. Yet post-coital intimacy has never been a thing to share between you.

Never before tonight.

“Me? What about you? I thought I was paying my debts to you?” he asks you with a tease, though he seems genuinely curious to hear your answer.

“I—” you try to speak, feeling a tug at your heartstrings knowing that he cares. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.” Your smile grows when you see him smiling at your answer. “Let’s just say that it was a good start to pay back what I’m owed.”

Hearing this, Hanbin laughs.

He surprises you once again when he pulls you to his chest and gives you a kiss, as if it is the most normal thing for him to do. And you return his kiss as easily as though you are two regular lovers. As if this isn’t the first time you are being this close. To be this intimate, aside from the special arrangement that you have made with each other.

“Can we—” he says breathlessly as he breaks away from the kiss. “Can we continue like this for a while, just until this tour is over?”

Just like that, any hope that had a chance to bloom in your chest is depleted. Disappointment washes through you for thinking that this actually has an expiration date. Just when you finally have the courage to admit your true feelings.

But then your spirit is quickly lifted when Hanbin continues to add, “Once we’re done with this tour and later when we’re back home, let’s talk about this further. That is, only if you want to. I just don’t want you to think that I’m only taking advantage of you and forget everything once we’re back.”

This time, when you feel that unsolicited hope brewing in your chest again, you do nothing to suppress it or hold it in. You don’t even try to deny it. There is no point in denying it now, after all. As it will always be there, no matter what you do to ignore it.

And now that the final line has been crossed, you know that there is no turning back.

“Sure, I’d like that,” you whisper to him with a smile, and with a genuine trust knowing that Hanbin always keeps his words to you.

Just like how he keeps his words about spending the entire night making up to you for all the favours that you are owed.

Hours later, as the bus continues its journey towards its next destination, both you and Hanbin are still huddled up in the back cabin. The room has grown hot, and the passion that you share has yet to come down.

A soft moan escapes you when he rocks his hips, pumping deeper into you in a series of rapid thrusts, and he quickly presses a finger on your lips to stop you from making too much noise. “Keep your voice down, baby. You’ll wake everyone,” he urgently whispers.

Being in your current position, with your folded knees sinking deeper into the sofa and your hands barely able to hold your upper body up against his relentless pounding coming from behind, it really is becoming impossible for you to hold back. “I can’t,” you whisper to him between your strained moans. “It’s too much.”

After a series of orgasms that he has been giving you all night, with only a brief reprieve taken when you took a break to have dinner—specially delivered to you by Shawn and the dancers while you were both busy in the back—it really is becoming a bit too much.

Your body has taken a lot of his rough lovemaking that a single thrust is enough to ignite the sparks within you. Your skin has grown too warm, your pussy is tender, and your muscles are getting too sore to keep you up.

“I know, I’m so sorry. Just a little bit more, okay?” he pleads with you as he continues thrusting in and out of you, slowly quickening his pace as he feels the spasms of your climax rising yet again, with your muscles pressing around his cock in a possessive grip.

You bend forward and lift your hips higher to take everything that he is giving you. While his words echo through your mind as you embrace the building pleasure, reminding you of the promise that he gave to you earlier.

Until this tour is over.

Just one more show.

You hold on to those words to gain strength. But after what you are experiencing tonight, and after witnessing the adrenaline rush that went through him after tonight’s show, the final arrangement waiting for you at the end of this tour no longer seems to be an easy fix.

“I doubt that it’ll be anything ‘little’ when it comes to you,” you retort back to him with a moan, “you’re insatiable.”

Hanbin lets out a soft chuckle as he presses a kiss on your bare shoulder. “It wasn’t my fault this time. You started it first.”

You hide your smile at his words. Because he was right, after all.

After your tryst continued for a while and you were lying on his side, tracing the lines on his bare chest, the memory of his alluring dance came through your mind. It took you back to the moment you were made to feel hot from the sight of him rocking his hips, and how his sweat-covered chest kept glowing under the stage lights while he was dancing, keeping you under his spell.

That memory gave you the urge to start touching him. Starting with the touch of your fingers tracing down his skin, before you replaced your naughty hands with your lips when you traced the lines on his torso with your kisses. And you kept going lower, and lower, reaching the source of his arousal, until he finally snapped.

“Guilty as charged,” you admit to him with a deep moan just as he pushes deep into you. “I’ll take all the responsibility for this one.”

“Good. Because I’m not going easy with you this time,” he says, as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster, while you can only take everything until you are quickly pushed towards the precipice of your climax.

He makes you bite your ripped panties as he keeps pounding into you, stopping any sounds that may come out through your lips as you embrace your climax. Making sure that your voice won’t wake the boys who are sleeping soundly in their personal bunk beds while the bus continues to drive through the night towards its final destination.

⤑ Author’s Note | This was supposed to be posted on his birthday, but as always, things don’t always go as planned when it comes to scheduling in my case. I’m glad that I still got to finish this because the idea had been stuck in my head since I’ve been following B.I’s journey through his European tour this year, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it if I didn’t write it down right away. I hope you enjoyed this thrilling experience. Please leave kudos/likes, comments, and share/reblog it if you liked what you read. Any other form of feedback is also welcomed. Thank you for reading!

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sometimesanalice · 1 year

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Give Me Your Hand {Here Is My Heart}

Summary: You and Bradley have been dating for a couple months now. You want him and he wants you. And it’s getting harder and harder to keep your hands off of him. So what is holding you back?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 9K

Warnings: Fluff, Pining, and Smuttt

(This will be a 2-Part series for characters in the “Like I Can” Universe. It can be read without reading the original series first.) PART 2

You’ve seen Bradley’s thick, wavy hair in various stages throughout your life. He has a little cowlick tuft in the back that would always pop up if it was cut too short. You’d seen it in high school when he used a little too much product like most boys did at that age. You’d seen it smashed and sweaty from being trapped under a baseball cap for too long.

However, for all the ways you’ve seen it over the years, his hair mussed by your own hands is easily one of your very favorite looks on him.

There is an open bottle of some random red blend you had picked up from the grocery store on the table, you had been more drawn to the label than what was inside of it. Your glasses were mostly untouched, the only clue about whose belonged to who was the imprint of your lower lip left behind on the rim from your lipstick that’s long worn off from your mouth.

And you are straddling Bradley’s denim clad lap enthusiastically making out on his probably-from-Ikea-but-still-very comfortable dark gray couch. The short skirt of your flirty little ruffled red dress sliding higher and higher up your thighs with every movement.

Your hands are undoing what minimal styling he had done to it before you had gotten to his place that evening, while his large ones are everywhere. Traveling the length of your back, squeezing your hips, running over the outsides of your calves.

It has been almost a couple of months since you had been set up by the Daggers on those truly terrible dates. At the time it seemed like a fun idea to go on all those blind dates, until it wasn’t.

That is, until Bradley. Being with him had made it all worthwhile.

There have been plenty of dates since then. Nights out. Nights in. Nights spent laughing at the Hard Deck with his friends. But they all end the same. With Bradley kissing you goodnight.

In the Bronco.

At your door.

At his.

You haven’t stayed the night, not once. Not even after the time where you both fell asleep tangled on his couch. You had woken up it find it was nearly 3 A.M, and even then you still made it a point not to cross the threshold into his bedroom. Even though you wanted to.

The way his mouth is moving against yours is nothing short of sinful. He is so good at making you breathless. So good at making you blush. Having him like this is more than you ever thought you’d get, its deliciously thrilling being the one to pull the low moans and satisfied sighs from him.

It is almost too easy with Bradley. You’d never let yourself think about forever at this point in a relationship with anyone else. He made it so difficult for you to keep your head on straight when he looked at you with such dizzying adoration.

It was getting harder and harder not let yourself think about Bradley being the one for all of your last-firsts. Even as you tried to take things with him day by day, moment by moment.

How that evening out on the outdoor terrace could have been your last-first date. That pretty green dress you’d worn, now tucked away in your closet protected in its garment bag, felt special in a way you weren’t sure you were ready to look at too closely.

How that kiss against his Bronco in the parking lot near the beach afterwards could have been your last-first kiss.

How whenever you mustered up the courage to finally give yourself to him entirely that it could be your last-first time.

But one of you had to be the practical one. One of you has to keep their feet on the ground because the other literally as his head in the clouds on a daily basis. You felt constantly at war with bullet pointed logic of your mind and the whatifwhatifwhatifs of your heart.

When Bradley dropped you off back at your car after your post-oceanside-dinner-milkshake-run, he asked you out again for the next weekend. Claimed he wanted you to have a second first date with him, even though you both already were planning on meeting your friends at the Hard Deck the very next night.

His smile had been so sweet and his eyes so sincere there was no way you were going to turn him down. Even if you didn’t think you needed a second first date with him when the first had been one for the books.

Bradley’s burning lips work their way down your neck. His hand at the base of your neck keeping you exactly where he wanted you. The delicious drag of his mustache along the sensitive skin of your throat makes your toes curl. His hot mouth sucking softly at your pulse point before laving it with his tongue. Can he feel how fast your heart is beating?

For your second-first date, the only feeling that had been coursing through you that day had been pure excitement knowing it would be Bradley knocking on your door.

And when he picked you up, he arrived with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and a bottle of your favorite champagne in the other.

There was an undeniable giddiness that evening, but also a tentative shyness between the two of you as you sat across from each other at one of the many seafood restaurants that dotted the boardwalk. The table had felt almost too big, since the two of you were both a little too in your heads.

“Why did it feel easier last time-”

“I feel like I’m on an interview-”

After a couple awkward stops and starts, you both just looked at each other and had to laugh about it. It was better when you moved your place settings and slid into the spot next to him. When his leg nervously bounced under the table, you were close enough to rest a hand on his thigh.

“Have I told you how pretty you look?”

“Only a few times now,” you replied as you nudged his foot with yours, “But I like hearing it.”

And then slowly but surely the nerves and awkwardness melted away as you two settled into the familiarity of each other. You did call him “Rooster” a couple times on accident, and he ended up almost telling you the same story twice before he realized it halfway through the second time. But it was a comfortable kind of bumbling as you explored the newness of this part of your relationship together.

Afterwards, he had suggested taking a walk along the beach, you’d readily agreed at the thought of the sand beneath your toes and your fingers tangled between Bradley’s.

You didn’t walk very far before a large canopy made entirely out of thousands of string lights caught your eye. The area was roped off on the beach halfway between the boardwalk and the ocean waves. People were already milling about, some brave souls already dancing away as the final rays from the sunset illuminated them in a golden red light.

“C’mon, kid,” he’d said already tugging you along with him by the hand, “Let’s check it out.”

“Bradley, I don’t know. This looks like some kind of private event.”

It didn’t click until he was pulling out his phone with the tickets already pulled up and ready to be scanned that he had planned it all along.

“I’ve always wanted to go to one of these,” you told him with a grin on your face as you waited in the line to exchange your shoes for a pair of light up headphones.

“Have you now?” He was looking very pleased with himself as he slid an arm around you, tucking his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

“I thought you said you were done with surprises,” you asked teasingly, smoothing down the front of his Hawaiian shirt. Enjoying the way his stomach tensed beneath your hand.

“Now, where the fun in that? I think I like surprising you,” he murmured into your ear.

When you made your way to the front, he slipped the headphones over your ears before pulling you to the side, bending down to roll up your jeans a bit and then doing the same to his.

The sand was still warm for the sun under your feet, and the twinkle lights were picking up the golden strands in Bradley’s wavy hair. He was so handsome and he was all yours tonight.

The two of you had the best time as you bounced around between stations, the colors on your headphones changing from blue to red to green as you told the other one to change over whenever a familiar song came on as the inky night settled around you.

You had danced with Bradley plenty of times of the years, like at school dances and at your mom’s second wedding. However, it was always the goofy and fun kind of dancing between friends. Where he would spin you until you were doubled over in laughter or where you’d compete to see who could pull out the most ridiculous moves.

His fancy footwork and carefree exuberance still amused you to no end, but it was also the good kind of different the way he wrapped his arms around you from behind. You’d felt a good kind of free in the way you let your hips move against him without overthinking it. It was the good kind of exciting the way he feathered kisses down the side of your neck when the music playing through the headphones slowed down.

The two of you moving in sync and touching each other in ways you haven’t indulged in before, a little sweaty and out of breath. You had never felt so truly lighthearted and uninhibited as you did as you danced the night away with Bradley, as he shimmied with you, as he twirled you about, as he held you close.

By the end of the evening, your cheeks were hurting from the wide smile that hadn’t left your face once the whole night.

And there was no hesitation in the way you pulled his face to yours as people danced around lost in their own moments on the beach under the twinkle lights and moonlight that night. As you got lost in him.

The rough denim of his jeans between the soft skin of your thighs has you desperate to move against him for more. His fingers are playing with the frilly chiffon fabric of the red dress you bought forever ago and completely forgot about in your closet. You wanted to be as bold as the color you were wearing, to take the lead and slide his hands up your dress to where you both really wanted them to be. Instead you trail your lips long the strong line of his jaw, reveling in the way he sighs your name.

The next date you had planned.

And the only thing you had told him about it was what time he should expect to be picked up.

At the time he’d grumbled something about his mom raising him as a gentleman and that meant always picking the girl up. To which, you had retorted that Carole told you not to take nonsense from any man, and that included her son. Phoenix had clicked her glass with yours at that.

Bradley was notoriously bad a keeping a secret, excluding when he had planned that first date, but he was even worse when he was the one being kept in the dark. Needless, to say you thoroughly enjoyed teasing him that whole week before your next date.

And if he ran his hands more over your body as he tried to get you to give him even the smallest of hints, you couldn’t say you minded.

You’d stopped by his favorite deli on you way home from work and ordered a couple of those giant sandwiches that were piled high with all the cold cuts and too many toppings, along with a few containers of different sides to round out the meal. Your fridge had been stocked his favorite beer from your last grocery run, so you’d grabbed a few cans of those and some sparkling waters and put those in your cooler basket with the other sweet treats you had already bought before you’d quickly changed and left to go pick him up.

You’d barely had the car parked in his driveway of his condo before he was opening the door and throwing his large body in your car.

“It’s not too late to let me drive, kid,” he’d said in greeting, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You really liked this part, the casual physicality of his affection. You liked it a lot.

“Oh please, you just want me to tell you what we’re doing,” you countered, as you backed up and pulled on to the main road. “Plus, I don’t see what your problem is. I drive you around all the time when the Bronco is getting a tune up.”

“Yeah, but only when it’s in the shop. I am physically pained to be in a Honda Civic,” he complained, as he shifted from side to side and moved the seat back trying to get more comfortable. Ever the drama queen.

“Hey, it’s a hybrid! I’m saving the planet,” you lobbed back at him, “How much fuel does your F/A-18 go through?”

“It’s boring.” There was no missing the derision dripping from the word.

Such a little car snob.

“I think you mean it’s practical,” you replied primly. “I’m not going to apologize for having a car from this century, Bradley.”

“Is it even safe to be this close to the ground?” he groused as he looked at you from over the top of his sunglasses.

“Well, my lease on this is up soon and I have been thinking about getting an all-American whip,” you paused for a moment as he perked up at the idea of that, “Do you think I would look cute in a Jeep?”

The taunt landed just the way you hoped it would when he groaned and clutched his heart.

“My girl is not driving a Jeep. That’d be like sleeping with the enemy!” he dramatically bemoaned, “The Bronco would stall out of spite knowing you’re driving the competition.”

You hoped he didn’t catch the way you’d clamed up. How your hands had tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles standing out in contrast against the paper-thin skin there.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t slept with someone on the first date before. And while you knew it was a matter of when and not if, you were still having a hard time wrapping your brain around the fact that you would be having sex with Bradley Bradshaw.

But there was fucking and then there was whatever this was.

It already felt different with him than anyone else you’ve dated before. It felt like it would mean more with him and you couldn’t pretend you weren’t anxious about it.

This was Bradley.

Bradley.

Who had always made it to your tennis matches wearing the t-shirt he had made that boldly sported your last name across his chest after you had complained that the boys’ teams always better funding and therefore got better apparel. He was always the loudest person in the stands, except for your moms when they overdid it on the Sauvignon Blanc.

Bradley.

Who had always sent you your favorite kind of flowers to be delivered on your birthday and never failed to FaceTime with you regardless of where he was in the world or what time it was where he was stationed.

Bradley who was looking so handsome next to you in your practical Honda Civic wearing a snug light blue button up shirt and smelling really good. Woodsy with the tiniest hint of citrus.

With his tousled sun-lightened curls and warm brown eyes. His strong, sturdy nose. That mustache that had no right to look so perfect on his face. You’d liked every version of him you’d know throughout your life, but this one next to you? You lo--

“Light’s green, sweet girl.” He was wearing that little half smirk of his. The one that was entirely too knowing, and that looked entirely too good on him.

You had blinked at him a few times before you had realized you’d been completely caught checking him out. And it wasn’t until the car behind you honked that you were startled out of your Bradley filled mental wanderings.

Thankfully you were saved from further jokes at you or your car’s expense as you pulled into the parking lot of the library, happy for the distraction from your earlier thoughts.

“Do you have some books you need to return?” he asked a bit perplexed, his eyebrow knitting together.

“Nope,” you answered. Sending him a smug wink as you reached over to click the button to unbuckle his seatbelt.

He wasn’t the only one who could plan a surprise in this relationship.

And in the midst of your self-satisfied musings, you had somehow missed the way he had rounded the car until his big hands were on your waist. Then he was turning you around and crowding you against the side of your very practical car.

“This ok?” he rasped questioningly against your ear, stroking your side.

You nodded rapidly. All words had escaped you the second he had pressed his broad, hard body against yours.

It was a miracle you didn’t drop the basket in your hands when his mouth collided with yours, his lips leisurely gliding over yours. You were still getting use to the sensation of his rough mustache on your delicate skin, but you liked the feel of it.

You liked everything about him.

He pulled away after a few moments, nudging your cheek with his nose, “Hey, you good?”

There was a moment when you thought that maybe he had noticed the way you’d froze in the car when he had made that joke. He knew you so well, but even that felt like a stretch.

“Just peachy,” you replied, as you leaned in for another quick peck. But just as you tried to pull away, he tugged you back in.

“’m not done kissing you yet.”

“Bradley, come on,” you laugh breathlessly, the grin on your face derailing any further plans he had for your mouth.

“Or, hear me out,” he mused, as he trailed a finger down your arm, until he reached your hand to take the basket from you, “We can make out against your car. Seeing as we’re already very good at that.”

“Nuh-uh.” You shake your head at him. “There will be no more making out.”

“At all?” he coaxed. His thumb sneaking under your top, stroking the skin above your hip.

“For the next couple of hours,” you amended. “Are you going to be trouble?”

“Only the good kind, I promise.” He was wearing that cheeky smile that always left you feeling a little flustered. Threading your fingers together with his free hand, he gestured for you to lead the way.

You pulled him along with you as you followed the other groups of people who were making their way the same direction around to the back of the library where the large section of grassy lawn was located.

“Last chance, you sure you don’t want to go make out in the stacks?” he teased as you passed by the entrance, giving you a heated once over, “You always were such a good girl in school, Miss Valedictorian.”

It made your cheeks warm at both the idea of him pressing you against the shelves and from him calling you a good girl. And you were almost tempted to let him have his way. To let him pull you out of the line you were waiting in in favor of finding out what his mouth tasted like in some quiet, dusty corner of the library.

“Behave, this is an all ages event,” you reminded him, and yourself. He held up his three fingers in Scout’s promise. But you knew better, recognized what that smirk he was wearing meant, so you met him half way, “If you’re good, maybe we can do that for our third date.”

You had felt your pulse radiate through your whole body when he leaned in close and murmured, “I can be good for you.”

A pointed cough jolted you both out of the moment, you had been so wrapped up in him that you had completely missed that the line had moved. Muttering a sheepish Sorry, you tugged a shameless Bradley along with you to catch up with everyone else.

When you made it to the front of the line, he tried to fish out his wallet before you could reach yours to pay the suggested entry donation fee. The volunteer chuckled as you tossed the blanket you were carrying at your troublesome date’s broad chest. And then you handed over the cash you had withdrawn from the ATM earlier in the day, plus a little more.

You were a patron of the literary arts, after all. A humanitarian with a point to prove. This was your date you had planned for Bradley, you would be the one sweeping him off his feet tonight.

The big screen they had set up gave it away, but you refused to tell him what movie was playing that evening even as he made guess after guess as you wove your way around people to find an unoccupied spot in the grass.

You kept him busy by having him smooth out the blanket until there were absolutely no wrinkles, and then distracted him with all of his favorite goodies as you unpacked them out of your cooler bag. Thankfully, it wasn’t too much longer before the event’s coordinator was welcoming everyone since you had run out of PG-rated ways to keep Bradley diverted without spoiling the evening’s featured film.

When the opening credits had started rolling for Singin’ in the Rain Bradley had turned to you, his wide grin lighting up his whole face.

“I love this movie,” he said excitedly.

You smiled back at him indulgently, as if you didn’t already know that. However, you still had felt very pleased with yourself that he was so thrilled as you passed him one of the massive, overly filled sandwiches along with a beer.

You had forgotten to pack some extra plates to put the sides on, so you and Bradley passed the containers of creamy potato salad, tangy coleslaw, and cold tomato salad back and forth. Occasionally feeding the other bites in between watching Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor’s antics on screen.

A little while later, the two of you had cozied up on the blanket, the leftover food pushed off to one side. Bradley had pulled you into the space between his legs, encouraging you to rest your back against his sturdy chest. You had never felt as perfectly content as you did sitting there wrapped up in his arms sharing a bag of gummy bears and the other boxes of movie candy you had packed as the warm California breeze washed over you.

You had been surrounded by families and other couples, but the way he rested his chin against your shoulder and hummed along with Gene Kelly singing “You Were Meant For Me” was for your ears only.

There isn’t anything in this world that feels as good as Bradley’s wet lips sliding over yours. Nothing as exciting as wondering where his hands will roam to next on your body. Nothing as devastating as when he teases down the strap of your dress off of your shoulder with his nose as his mouth purposefully works along your collarbone.

Ever the gentleman, he’s never pressured you, or even brought it up. You know he is waiting for you to make the move, to let you be the one who sets the pace. To let him know when you’re ready to take that next step with him.

And you want to. You really want to. Even now, you can feel how enticingly hard he is beneath you as you moan into his mouth.

You know that you’re the one holding you back.

The one holding the both of you back.

And you know exactly why.

The closest you two even got to toeing that line into something more was the night you got back home after spending a few days on the East Coast for a work trip.

Bradley had wanted to pick you up from the airport, but you were getting in late and didn’t want him to lose out on the sleep that he needed to stay safe doing his job. He only let it go once you had promised him you would text him when you landed and got home in one piece.

You had been getting ready for bed after showering off the plane from your body, slipping on an old shirt you had recently rediscovered buried in the back of your dresser when your phone had lit up. And you really shouldn’t have been surprised to see Bradley’s name on your screen well past 2 A.M, but your heart still fluttered seeing his name pop up.

“Yes, Bradley?” you answered with a playful lilt in your tone.

“Hi, kid,” you could hear the soft smile in his voice, “Did you make it home ok?”

“I did, but what are you still doing awake? You’ve got that new training program that starts tomorrow, and roosters aren’t known for being nocturnal creatures.”

“She’s got jokes, ladies and gentlemen,” he deadpanned flatly before tentatively continuing, “You said you were going to text me when you landed. But my phone has been suspiciously silent.”

You didn’t know if that swooping sensation in your stomach had been from feeling like you’d let him down or from the fact that he was calling you this late because he was worried about you. That he had stayed up wanting to hear from you because you mattered to him. You that you were in his 2 A.M thoughts.

“I figured you’d be asleep, and I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted self-consciously as you puttered around you room, putting away a few of the things from your suitcase.

And it had been the truth. You had typed out a message when you were waiting in the ride share pick up area with your carry on, but ended up deleting it not wanting to bother him or disturb his sleep.

“Nah, you’d never bother me. I was waiting to hear from you. Wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways, not with you being flown around by some random pseudo-captain airline pilot wearing a pair of wings with a brand logo on it.”

The men you had dated in the past had always said the same thing without really meaning it, sending halfhearted thumbs up when you’d let them known you got home after a date or landed safely after a work trip. But Bradley wasn’t like those men, he truly meant the things he said because he cared.

“Not the branded wings,” you teased, before softly saying, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good, sweet girl. I’m just happy you’re home. You free dinner tomorrow? I want to hear all about your trip.”

“For you? Yeah, I think I can clear my schedule.”

“Good,” he said contentedly before pausing for a moment, and you heard rustling on the other end of the line, “So, what are you wearing?”

You burst out laughing, as you finally crawled into your soft bed, grinning wildly, “Bradley Bradshaw, you did not just ask me that!”

“What?” he asked innocently, his chuckle giving him away. “How about this, you tell me and I promise to never bring up the fact that you have contributed to any prematurely gray hairs that might have sprung up in the last few hours.”

“A silver fox Bradley Bradshaw?” Now that was something you were very much looking forward to seeing one day, “Be still my heart.”

“Chances are you won’t have to wait long,” he joked.

“Well, it’s funny you should ask,” you mused as you look down at the threadbare shirt you had on, “Because I am currently wearing a very old Cardinals Baseball shirt.”

He had given it to you after they had won the State Championships his junior year as a thank you for all the time you had spent helping him practice after school and on the weekends leading up to the playoff games.

“You’re messing with me.”

“I would never joke about Washington High school pride.” He laughed at that, because really, when were you not teasing him?

When you didn’t say anything more he’d pressed, “Wait, seriously?”

“Mm-hmm,” you purred smugly, playing with the frayed hem of the shirt.

“I want to see it.”

“Are you asking me to send a photo of myself in bed after 2 A.M?” you asked with faux shock, “Sir, I am a lady.”

That made him snort, “There wasn’t anything ladylike about the way you took down that burger the other week. But seriously. You’ve got sixty seconds, kid. Otherwise I’m coming over there to see it for myself.”

Your breath had caught in your throat. His demand made your heart beat faster in your chest, the two of you had never done anything like this before.

“Ok, ok. Give me a moment.”

Working quickly knowing Bradley wasn’t one for idle threats, you positioned yourself where his shirt is clearly visible, but also featured a glimpse of the top of your thighs and a hint of the smirk on your lips. Satisfied you sent it off to him and put the phone back up to your ear.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out incredulously. You didn’t know if he meant to say it out loud or not, but you’d felt the heat work its way in your cheeks all the same.

“Come on then, Bradshaw. You’re up. Tit for tat as it was.”

“I didn’t realize tits were on the table,” he rasped lowly.

You were thankful he hadn’t made this a FaceTime call, so that he didn’t see the way your jaw dropped.

There was a thrumming working its way through your body. There wasn’t anything explicitly dirty happening, but it felt deliciously thrilling all the same. It was exciting doing this with him.

“Nuh-uh, rules are rules. You’ve got sixty seconds,” you tell him, trying to sound more in control than you felt.

A few moments later you see the notification pop down, and you click into the text. The first thing your mind registered was his skin.

So much golden skin.

He was leaning against his head board, navy comforter bunched around low on his waist. His hair was a little mussed, and his mouth was pulled to one side in a half-smirk. He was just so handsome, you could even see the fine trail of hairs that led to his---

“Goddammit, Bradley!” you’d exclaimed putting him on speaker, so you could still hear him without putting your phone back up to your ears since you were too busy staring at the picture he had just sent. “Are you kidding me? This is some serious one-handed fodder!”

You could hear his booming laughter on the other side.

“Happy now?” You could hear how pleased he was with your reaction in his voice.

“Truly, the happiest. You have no idea,” you replied, albeit a distractedly, “But, full disclosure? I am going to be gazing at this so disrespectfully after we hang up.” You’ve never been so bold before, but everything about that moment had been electrifying with him. Because of him.

“Enjoy your one-handed fodder, kid. But full disclosure?” his voice was teasing as he used your own words against you, “You’d need to use both hands. I’m glad you’re home, I’ll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, sweet girl.”

He hung up on you without waiting for a response as you gaped into your home screen.

As images filled your head of what it would look like to have both of your hands wrapped the length of him, you let your fingers trail down your stomach and under the waistband of your underwear.

You had already lost a lot of sleep thinking about Bradley. Dreaming about how it would feel to be naked and pressed close along his body. He runs so warm normally, would he be even hotter to the touch as you both rocked against each other? You wanted to know the sounds he made when he came.

Too desperate to come to bother reaching for your vibrator, you had propped your phone against your spare pillow looking at that photo of him cozy and warm in his bed, and with your other hand you easily slid two fingers into yourself. Circling your clit with one hand as you worked yourself with the other.

You wanted his fingers. You wanted his mouth. You wanted his cock. You wanted all of him.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself think about Bradley. His molten brown eyes. His strong forearms. The tantalizing veins of his thick neck. The way his mustache feels against your mouth when you make out in his Bronco. The powerful grace in the way his body moved during a game of dogfight football.

You imagined him unreservedly and unabashedly.

Above you.

Below you.

Behind you.

You came like a flash. Back arching as you spasmed against your own fingers while thinking about his.

And a few minutes later, just as your heart rate had settled back down and you were about to turn your light off, you got a text from him.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝙸 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚔𝚒𝚍.

Which promptly had you tossing your phone away from you as you squealed into your pillow.

It was so easy to lose yourself in his kiss, breathing in each other’s air. Your mouths are drawn together like magnets. His hands are high on your ribcage, his brave thumb caressing the underside of your breast. You are dizzy off of the feeling of his tongue stroking yours.

There is an earnest yearning in the way you both kiss each other. In the way you touch each other. It’s almost like you’re trying to make up for something.

“I can feel you thinking, sweet girl,” he says a little breathlessly as he pulls away from your mouth. His lips are swollen and his hair is a wavy, brown mess. “Am I not going a good enough job over here?”

You know he is teasing you, but you can tell that he is giving you the gentle opening to talk about what distracting thoughts are pulling you out of being in the moment with him.

“I was just thinking about when you picked me up in your old Montero for the first time. You were leaning against it like my very own Jake Ryan,” you tell him as you place kisses across his cheek.

Not exactly the truth, but you don’t want to ruin the mood by telling him what was really on your mind. Not when you wanted to make him feel just as good as he was making you feel.

“I loved that car,” he moans lightly as you kiss along his jaw, his hands sliding up your back.

“I know,” you hum against his ear, “You didn’t talk to me for like a week when I spilled my milkshake in it that one time.”

“I should have kept that car, she was a classic,” he sighs as he leans his head against the back of the couch to look up at you. His hands skimming up and down the sides of your waist, still hard beneath you.

“You know, my parents still think I was some kind of manual stick-shifting wunderkind,” you tell him grinning down at him. Your thumb tracing the long scar there under his Adam’s apple.

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have taught you how to how to drive when you were fourteen,” he says with fondness. The grin on his gorgeous face nothing short of sheepish, “Your mom can never know. I still want her to like me.”

You smile briefly thinking about him teaching you in the afternoons after school when neither of you had practices to attend in the abandoned parking lot across town.

How he had patiently taught you how to shift from neutral into first even after stalling out multiple times in a row. He had done his best to hid his wincing from you when you inevitably managed to grind the gears because he didn’t want you to feel bad about it. You can still remember how loudly he whooped for you when you managed to start it and get it moving in one go. Afterwards, he had taken you to the ice cream place to celebrate, that time with him in the driver’s seat.

When you had finally gotten your learner’s permit your parents had called you a natural. And you had immediately known that there was no way you were ever going to tell them you’d learned from Bradley. That was a secret just for the two of you.

“You know,” you muse toying with button on his shirt, “Sixteen-year-old me would probably be losing her mind knowing that I get to make out with you anytime I want.”

“Huh, that so?” he smirks, a hand coming up to play with the ends of your hair, “Did you have a crush on me, kid?”

For the most part, before getting together you had been good about keeping your feelings for Bradley purely platonic. Except for a couple of slip ups here and there over the years, like that time at the Hard Deck after seeing the team play dogfight football for the first time. But that was another secret that you were never going to give up easily.

Your friendship with him had always meant more to you than anything else.

“Mm, I wouldn’t call it a crush. What I had was a lot of hormones, and it didn’t help that you were pretty.”

He had always been cute, even as a gangly teen whose arms and legs never seemed to be in sync, but the man looking up at you now was in a league of his own. His warm brown eyes were slightly hooded filled with mischief and something more.

“And now?” Bradley asks teasingly, his other smoothing up your back to press you closer. He leans forward to kiss the spot where your neck met your shoulder.

“Now?” you breathe out, as his mouth moves up along your neck, “Now I still have a lot of hormones, think you’re very handsome, and definitely have a crush on you.”

“Good,” he murmurs as his teeth graze your jaw.

“What about you?” you gasp, melting into him further. You want to keep him talking, so you don’t think about how you want his mouth on other places. He is so hard, so warm, and you want him so bad.

But for as much as you wanted to strip off your clothes and his to let him have his way with you, it was the last boundary between being just friends and this. It wasn’t something that could ever be undone. And you wanted it so bad, it scared you just how much you wanted that kind of permanence with him.

It’s been almost two months and you’ve had him for years, but you want him like this forever.

“Yeah, there’s been a few times when I’ve caught myself thinking about you in less than friendly ways. You’re gorgeous, and smart, and funny,” He squeezes your waist, before admitting, “Always felt guilty when it happened though.”

He had thought of you too.

Why did that make your chest hurt? Could you have been doing this for years?

“Tell me,” you quietly urge, running your fingers through his hair encouragingly, “I want to know.”

You were desperate to know.

“Do you remember that house party we went to that Spring Break you visited me during my senior year at UVA?” he asks, letting his hands lightly trail up and down the tops of your thighs.

You could have been doing this for years.

You didn’t trust your voice not to wobble and betray you, so you nodded your head instead.

“I had gone in to get us a couple more drinks, and when I came back out there were so many more people in the backyard than there were when I left. I mean, I was probably a little drunk, but it was packed,” he told you as his thumb rubbed small circles near your inner knee, “I remember looking for you when I got distracted by a great set of legs in pair of frayed denim shorts. And as I was working out how I was going to play it as I made my way over to her, she turned around.”

It wasn’t a secret where this was going. You knew what the ending would be before he even started telling you the story. Yet, you were still hanging on his every word with bated breath.

“You turned around. Couldn’t believe I didn’t recognize you in that moment. And the way you smiled at me,” he reaches up and cups your cheek, his thumb lightly tapping on the spot where your dimples lived, “God, I still remember, it hit me like a suckerpunch. Your hair looked so pretty under the string lights they had put up.”

“They were the shitty red and green Christmas kind,” you whisper.

You remembered that party, it was one of the last times you got to spend uninterrupted one-on-one time with him before he joined the Navy. Before your friendship turned into a long-distance game of catching up and phone tag.

“They were and probably a fire hazard too,” he confirms softly with a chuckle, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you gaze at each other. “I felt so bad afterwards that I had been checking you out. Like I was taking advantage of our friendship somehow.”

This was a new kind of openness between the two of you in this little moment of transparent honesty. A reminder for how well you know each other that there are still new things to learn.

“I remember when you picked me up from the airport, I think it was like the first time we’d seen each other in person in almost a year. And I had this moment when I saw you waiting for me that realized that the boy I had grown up with was very much a man,” you sit back a bit to better look at him, his cheeks were still flushed from earlier. “But god, Bradley, now? Now, you’re devastating.”

You wanted him to have these parts of you, to fill him in on the things he didn’t know, the things you kept close to your heart. It was your story, but it belonged to him too.

“C’mere,” he murmurs as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck pulling you back into him. Your mouths are a whisper away from each other as you share the same air, and he is looking at you with such open want, “I didn’t realize until recently how much time I spent trying not to think about you like that when you first moved here. And now that I can, you’re the only thing that’s been on my mind. You’re so fucking distracting, sweet girl.”

If you thought you were needy before, now you felt like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin if you didn’t get your mouth back on his right that very second.

He meets you half way for a desperate kiss. It’s hungry and open-mouthed. You come alive under his touch, his kiss energizes you in a way that no drug or stimulant ever could.

Your hasty, frantic hands landing everywhere. Never content to linger in one place for long. Not when you have so much of his body you are dying to map with your hands. With your mouth. You want to touch him everywhere. You want to taste him everywhere.

You nibble on the fullness of his lower lip, seeking entrance into his warm mouth. He opens for you without hesitation, his tongue ready and waiting to welcome yours. You can still taste the juicy, full-bodied red on him from that long-forgotten bottle of wine.

He says your name on shattered breath, pulling away only long enough to place wet, hot kisses down your neck, down your chest. Your hands are buried in his hair, clutching at his sunkissed waves.

“This damn bow,” he rasps as he roughly pulls at the little bow at the center of your flirty red dress as if it has personally offended him by its very existence. Once untied it reveals a bit more of the swell of your breasts to his eager eyes.

Your skin feels almost a size too small for your body, and your throat is tight with want. His kisses were like champagne going straight to your head. His hands are the only thing you want touching you.

You don’t mean to let your hips rock against the firm swell of him, but his resounding groan is quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. And you know in that moment you need to hear it again, and again. So you roll your hips once more, intentionally this time.

Bradley’s low moan of pleasure makes you feel heady and reckless. You lick a stripe along the underside of his jaw. His hands fly to your ass, sliding under that frilly dress, grasping you with greedy hands when you kiss a spot behind his ear. Even in your frenzied state you file away his response to that for later.

And then you are lost in the feel of his mouth. Of his hands on you. Of your hands on him. Of the taste of the skin of his neck. Of the feeling of the zipper on his tight jeans hitting your clit just right as you writhe on top of him.

It starts as a shiver that makes your whole body erupt in goosebumps as he encourages the rolling of your hips against him. You’ve never felt as cared for, as safe as you do in his arms.

The tingling sensation begins at the base of your neck and like a flicker start it shoots down, down the entire length of your spine setting off in your cunt in spectacular electric bursts.

You spasm deliciously and devastatingly against nothing with Bradley pressed thick and hard against the center of you. The shockwaves gripping your body as you’re left gasping and panting into the hollow of his throat.

“Did you just...?” he asks urgently. You can’t speak yet so you nod vigorously into his neck. “Fuck. That’s so hot.”

Pressing closer, you try to hide from the intensity you know you would find in his eyes. Burying your face further in his neck as you try to catch your breath. You breathe him in in hopes that his soothing cedar scent will help settle the rapid beating of your heart.

“Sweet girl, please. C’mon, I gotta see you,” he murmurs desperately. He pulls his head back a bit trying to create more room to get a look at you, attempting to coax you out by brushing your hair back, “I need to see it. Please. Let me see your face.”

You can feel how turned on he is, can hear it in his voice. And you’re feeling truly shy around Bradley for probably the first time in your life.

“I’ve been thinking about what you’d sound like for weeks,” he tells you with such soft sincerity.

“Bradley,” you whisper finally pulling away from the sanctuary that is the crook of his neck. His heated gaze roams your face, drinking you in. He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek, this thumb skimming your lower lip. There are a thousand different emotions coursing through you and you know he can read them all.

“God, you’re so beautiful. Talk to me, please,” he breathes, “What’s going through your mind? It’s just me.”

You have been so careful trying to skirt around this conversation. It has been the elephant in the room after every date, every heated make out session, every honeyed goodnight kiss.

And you want him too much to keep avoiding this, even though it scares you.

“That’s just it, Bradley, it’s you!”

“It’s me?” he asks confused.

“Yes! It’s you, it’s me, it’s us. It has never been like this with anyone else. I have never felt like this with anyone else. And the way you look at me sometimes, it’s overwhelming.” You were still feeling flustered from your surprise orgasm, and you know you aren’t expressing yourself clearly. But you feel so flayed open before him.

“Hey, hey,” he says soothingly, “If this is too much for you, we can slow it down. Or if you aren’t feeling it, we figure out how to be just friends again.” He can’t hide the wince on his face as he says it, but you know he honestly means it. “It might take me a couple of decades to forget the way you sounded just now, but we would figure it out together.”

“No, I don’t want that. Don’t you get it? I feel the complete opposite, and that’s the problem!”

“Ok, wait. You just came on my lap, sweet girl,” Bradley’s voice is unmistakably proud, even as he breathes out raggedly. “I’m trying to get my thoughts in order over here. Because that was the best thing I’ve ever heard and I’m having trouble getting my head on right to talk about this. So as much as I love having you on me, we have to readjust before we can continue.”

You make a noise of protest as maneuvers you both so that he is stretched out across the couch, while you’re nestled securely against the back of his couch and half draped over him.

“Let’s try this again,” he says rubbing small circles on your back, “I don’t want to mess this up by not knowing exactly where we stand with things, you are too important to me. Are you worried it’s going to be weird or that it’s not going to be good?”

“No.” That legitimately never even crossed your mind. But now a seed of doubt had been planted in your already anxious mind, “Are you?”

“Not even a little bit,” Bradley tells you with a shake of the head, “I know it’s going to be good.”

“That confident about your sexual prowess, huh?” It felt easier, safer to make a joke.

“Well, yeah. There’s that,” he hums with a half smirk, “But it’s you and me, kid. It’s gonna be good. How could it not be?”

There’s something about his steadfast sureness that warms your chest.

“Can I tell you what I’m worried about?” He waits for your nod of confirmation before continuing, “I’m worried about how I am supposed to function afterwards. How am I supposed to just get up and go to work in the morning after I’ve had you in my bed? Because once I get to have you like that, I’m never going to stop wanting more with you.”

And there’s the longing again, that pull in your stomach. You want him too, you want him too.

You are comforted knowing that he has things that have been on his mind too, that you’re not alone. Even if the two of you are concerned about two different things. And it was only right that you let him in, you could be unreservedly vulnerable for him.

“Bradley, it’s been so incredibly good with us. But I’m so afraid that once we take this step, that all I am going to be thinking about is that we could have been doing this for years. That we could have had each other like this for years.” Even the idea of it hurts your heart, at the glimmer of the possibility that you could have gotten to this point with him sooner. “And I don’t want to have any regrets about the way our story has gone up until this point. But I especially don’t want to have any regrets about missing out on time with you.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead in understanding.

“Let me ask you this then, would you trade any of it?” he asks as he slides a hand around your neck to tilt your head up to look at him, “Any of the adventures we had when we were younger? Or the weekend visits? Or any of the late-night milkshake runs for it?”

You knew the answer immediately, “No. No, I wouldn’t trade a thing.”

“Then we’re right on time,” he promises sincerely as he skims his thumb along the line of your jaw. “We’re right on time, sweet girl.”

It’s so perfectly Bradley, the way he knows exactly what your heart needed to hear.

And all the extra pressure you had been feeling releases from your body because it’s Bradley.

It’s just Bradley. It’s just you.

It’s just you and Bradley.

It’s been that way since you were kids.

You’ve had him as a friend. You still have him as a friend. But you also get to have more.

Of course, it’s going to be good.

Of course, it’s going to be right.

Of course, there were going to be what if’s. It was inevitable.

What you weren’t going to do is let yourself dwell on what-could-have-beens or regrets because you have him here and now. And that is more than enough.

It’s everything.

You untangle yourself from him to stand up as he watches you apprehensively. Waiting to see what your next move will be.

Standing in front of Bradley, you hold his gaze as you find the zipper on the side your little red dress. All concern leaves his face as you draw it down slowly before him. He doesn’t blink as you let the silky fabric skim down your body, puddling at your feet. And then he is looking at you with open awe and longing.

Stepping out of it lightly, you confidently make your way to the stairs towards his bedroom.

“Well, are you coming?”

PART 2

Not to worry, friends! There is more to come! After all, we have to find out what happens once she goes up those stairs!

To those who like to spice up their life a la the Spice Girls, I’ve got more headed your way (and by more, I mean smutttt)! I have a taglist, so let me know if you would like to be added!

I wrote this as a birthday fic for the one and only @gretagerwigsmuse! (Surprise! See I can be sneaky, even if you already knew about it, haha!) It may be a little late, but I hope it was worth the wait!

Mood board for Part 1

(This is written for part of my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)

You can check out my other fics here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @chicomonks

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you

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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

Text

best friend | bob floyd x f!reader

a second part

this fic is for @roosterforme 's Valentines Day challenge - #love is in the air tgm! for this fic I chose the song 'You're My Best Friend' by Queen - count on me to make the simpiest song on earth a smidge angsty!

disclaimer; as always with me - I set out to write fluff... and I have to go through the five stages of grief first apparently. this did not turn out quite like I first thought, but I hope you'll like it still! it does have a fluffy ending!

plot; bob has always known he needs you. but perhaps he needs you more than he himself knows?

warnings; fluff with a small preamble of angst, female!reader, no use of y/n, uranium mission, mentions of earlier overconsumption of alcohol, mentions of bloody nose, mentions of throwing up, cursing, cuddling naked (is this a warning? i don't know. it's in there), l-bombs, bob tying your shoes bc heart eyes.

word count; ~3.4K

tagging people who might like; @theharddeck @rhettabbotts @lt-bradshaw @roleycoleyreccenter @sebsxphia @laracrofted @gretagerwigsmuse @hangmanbrainrot @hangmanapologist

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‘you make me live’

Robert Floyd was a very clean-cut man. His glasses, the birth control ones, were neat and tidy on his face, rarely crooked, and rested (a little uncomfortably if he were allowed to complain) against the bridge of his nose. He much preferred his old ones, the ones that he had had as a teenager, horn rimmed and snug and comfortable against his nose. But those had broken during a stint he’d pulled just before he joined the Navy, and thus - birth control goggles it was for him. To be fair he figured it suited his new lifestyle better. Neat. Unassertive.

As a teen, Robert, at that time most known as Robby, was not quite as tidy and neat as he was now. The Robert that you, his best friend, had come to know was definitely on the more rowdy side. He drank quite heavily, and had the occasional smoke as well - something he was fairly certain would shock Hangman’s smirk right off his face if Bob ever wished to shatter the illusion of naivety he’d shouldered.

It would sometimes irk Bob when people at first construed him as meek. Sure, he’d never been the most social butterfly, and meeting new people always seemed a bit daunting no matter how much practice he had. He figured that might be why he had drank so heavily in his late teens. He’d wanted to be able to talk to people and not feel as if he wanted to sink through the floor because he stuttered once.

After every stutter he uttered, Bob cursed up a storm in his head at his own incompetence. He was far from upset though, he was fucking pissed. How was it that he knew exactly what he wanted to say, yet his tongue betrayed him so wholly? It hardly seemed fair that he actually had so much to say, yet didn’t possess the ability to voice it. If people only knew how eloquent he had sounded in his head.

He guessed that’s why he liked you so much. That first time that you met, and Robert’s tongue had done its best to trip him up at every turn, you’d just smiled warmly at him - eyes twinkling with genuine interest as he spoke. The more you gave him your undivided attention, without letting your gaze flicker away from his face, the more confident Bob had grown - as if his mouth and tongue suddenly remembered how to do their jobs properly when he felt more relaxed, and as if he wasn’t in a rush to say what he wished before the recipients focus had been drawn elsewhere.

You had waited patiently, and you’d replied with such care that he felt taken aback that you’d actually remembered most of his monologue. Since then, Bob had barely gone a day without speaking to you. It didn’t matter much what time of day it was, or how long you spoke, or how. Through the phone, via FaceTime or in person, Bob just needed to hear your sweet voice. Needed you like the air he breathed.

It had been that way ever since you met, and you had helped him when he needed it the most. Just before he had managed to make his drinking an unsalvageable problem, you had reminded him that he was valuable without the confidence that beverages lended him.

With you he never felt the need to put on any bravado or show. He had barely touched a drop of alcohol since his nineteenth birthday, and he never felt the urge to start up again. Bob had figured out that people could find him interesting and worthwhile without having the aid of alcohol to loosen his tongue and inhibit his sagacity.

‘whatever this world can give to me, it’s you - you’re all i see’

The world had undoubtedly thrown a few wrenches in Bob’s path. Growing up he’d suffered a lot at the hands of his peers, not really knowing why they felt the need to pick on him in particular. In his mind he didn’t stand out much.

Sure, he might be a bit clumsy sometimes, and he had been a little thinner and ganglier than his fellow classmates - but as he grew that had changed. Now he had defined abs and biceps, and still he didn’t feel entirely comfortable flaunting them on the beach. He preferred to keep a shirt on on the rare occasion he’d make it to the beach, something he knew you didn’t like - but something you didn’t ever push.

Bob was fairly certain most of the people that used to make fun of him had no idea that he was quite sharp, and he was not entirely sure that if he were to explain the intricacies he attended to in the aft seat of the F/A-18F he was usually assigned to, they would most likely come up blank for a response.

Robert was fairly certain anyone could wake him up in the middle of the night and ask him to man the AESA or ATFLIR system and he’d do it half asleep. The only one he’d tried to explain what he did in detail to was you, and only because you had asked and seemed genuinely intrigued - not even his father seemed particularly interested in knowing the heavy weaponry his son was responsible for when Bob tried to talk about it to him when he’d just joined the Navy.

Through any of the hardships Bob went through though, he always had you. You were always just a phone call away, even though Bob preferred to see you in front of him. Robert would never really call himself a liar, he tried his best to always say what was on his mind, no matter the outcome, but he undoubtedly was a liar.

Horribly enough, he was lying to you. And for some time he had definitely lied to himself. He’d almost told you after his situation with Phoenix, that first time he’d have to eject out of a spiraling Super Hornet at such speeds it made him dizzy to think that he’d actually survived.

He had called you from his hospital bed, voice shaking slightly as he reassured you that he was alright - having to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from sniffling as he heard your teary voice blubbering how worried you’d been when you had gotten the call that his plane had gone down during a training exercise.

He had made you his emergency contact several years ago at that point. And perhaps your soft sobs was what made him keep his confession close to his chest for just a while longer. If you didn’t know, and he didn’t make it home during the upcoming mission - at least you might not suffer too much from the loss of him. Better to lose a best friend than a lover right? That’s what Bob reasoned.

‘whenever this world is cruel to me… i got you to help me forgive’

As Phoenix put the Super Hornet down hard on the deck, Bob shook slightly as he swiftly went through his checklist. He was pretty sure his nose was bleeding, and wave after wave of nausea kept hitting him sporadically. He needed to get out of the jet. He needed to breathe fresh air, and most of all - he needed you. Hurrying down the steps, Bob ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the side of the huge ship, emptying the contents of his stomach into the vastness of the ocean below. They had lost Mav. They had lost Rooster.

What if it had been him and Nat? It just as easily could’ve been. His legs were shaking as the adrenaline from the mission they had just gone through started waning. God, why had he gotten close to any of these people? He knew he had gotten too familiar with all of them after that god damned game day on the beach - he’d told you happily about being perched on Bradley’s shoulders, and you’d laughed and congratulated him on a good game.

The memory sent another wave of nausea through him and he retched again as warm blood dripped down over his cupid's bow. Just as he was about to rush up to the nearest admiral around and get on his knees to beg them to let him call you, Phoenix showed up at his side, her dainty hand - that had just guided them to safety - landing on his shoulder. Not caring in the slightest, Bob quickly wiped his mouth and nose on his sleeve before roughly pulling her into a bone-crushing embrace, her soft words of reassurances falling on deaf ears.

“Thank you, Nat. For getting me back.” Bob had, since he had met Natasha, known she would do everything in her power to make sure he made it back, with or without Maverick’s ‘funeral talks’. He watched his pilot clench her jaw, eyes turning misty as she looked up at him and nodded.

“Likewise,” she said, patting his shoulder again before releasing him swiftly as they both noticed Hangman’s F/A-18E launch off the ship. Nat’s brows were furrowed, and Bob accompanied her as they made their way back towards the others. Fanboy took one look at Bob before offering him a pained look and a baby wipe - Bob knew that Mickey sometimes still threw up after flights, and had them on him at all times just in case.

“You okay, man?” Fanboy spoke softly to the other wizzo, patting Bob’s back as the taller man thanked him and wiped at his nose and mouth. Bob shook his head somberly, wanting to be anywhere else than where he was right now. With a clarity he hadn’t known in a while, he realized that he craved you. Craved your voice, your touch, your embrace. He needed you.

‘you’re the first one when things turn out bad’

If he had been able to teleport himself to your doorstep right now he’d press you so close to his chest, he’d breathe in your scent, he’d let his lips descend upon yours only to let them never leave their new found home, securely against yours. He’d carry you to bed, and he’d use any excuse to keep you snuggled into his side for days and days.

As it was, he had no choice but to stay where he was. Perhaps it was best that he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have known that both Mav and Rooster had made it back alive, if barely. Laying down to sleep that night as the waves rocked the ship, he had never felt so exhausted mentally and physically in his life. It felt as if his very essence had been changed through the emotions and experiences he had had during this day. He couldn’t wait to be home. Home with you.

Bob had decided the second the Super Hornet had landed that day that he would be selfish. He would tell you about the feelings he’d harbored for you for years now. It was better than dying and you never even knowing. Never knowing that you were the only one for him, that you were his sunshine, his very reason for breathing.

‘i’m happy, happy at home’

What Bob hadn’t counted on as he finally was able to make his way towards where people were usually gathered to greet their loved ones, was that you were there. He never had anyone waiting for him, because you lived some ways away, and the rest of his family were all the way over in Montana. Perhaps that’s why he needed to be nudged in the side by Phoenix, the one whom he’d spent the most time showing pictures of you to, before he made out your calls of ‘Robby!’.

His mouth fell open in shock as he saw you sprinting towards him, dropping his duffel bag just in time to be able to catch you in his arms as you barreled into his tall frame. He only had to take a small step back to steady himself, before his arm squeezed hard at your waist and his other cradled the back of your head as he felt you nuzzle into his chest.

He could hardly make out your muffled words, but it did sound an awful lot like his name being repeated over and over again in relief. Relief flooded him too as he took in a shaky breath, overcome by the familiar scent you brought with you. Tears clouded his vision as he pulled you in closer, standing to his full height for a moment, letting your converse clad feet lift off of the pavement.

As the two of you pulled away from one another, he could see tears streaming down your cheeks, and his brows furrowed as he cradled your face between his large palms.

“Sunshine…” Bob breathed out, a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You offered him a teary smile in return. Thumbs soothed over your tear stained cheeks, and Bob took this moment of silence to look you over.

He noticed that in your haste to make it over to him, one of your shoelaces had fallen out of the neat bow you’d no doubt hastily thrown together before leaving to see him. How you’d gotten the information he wasn’t sure, he hadn’t been able to tell you before he left when he’d be back. He figured Phoenix might have something to do with it though. He wondered what she’d told you.

Releasing the hold he had of your face, Robert slowly fell down to kneel by your feet, slowly taking the laces between his nimble fingers, tugging softly to make sure they were tight enough before tying another knot, this time a double bow, to make sure they didn’t fall apart again.

He playfully tugged at the top of the shoe, before he gazed up at you. The expression on your face had his breath leaving his lungs suddenly, and his lips parted in surprise. That look of adoration on your face was so beautiful to him, and to have it directed at him… it was overwhelming.

“Take me home?” you whispered once he had stood to his full height again, and he wasn’t entirely sure what you meant. He had rented a small flat whilst he was going to be stationed here, so he figured that was home for him right now. Maybe home was wherever you were. Maybe you felt the same. He hoped you did. Bob only nodded before confidently grasping your smaller hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours as you steered him towards your car.

The ride back to Bob’s rented flat was mostly silent, except for his soft spoken directions. He had yet to let go of your hand, thankful for your automatic car. His thumb stroked over your knuckles, maybe more to soothe himself than you. He felt like he needed to feel your skin against his own, make sure you were real. Make sure he was real too.

Getting out of the car, Bob swiftly moved to open your door, his hands on your waist the moment you stood up.

“Robby,” you whispered, emotions unknown lacing your tone. Bob couldn’t do this here. Not on the driveway. He ushered you to the door, unlocking it and steering you inside without uttering a word.

“You’re my best friend,”

Bob spoke slowly, letting his cerulean eyes map out your face, every single familiar feature a thing of beauty. Heaving a deep sigh, he again let his palm rest against your cheek as you gazed up at him, that look of adoration still present.

“I love you, sunny,” Bob confessed, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence, overcome by the fact that he might not have made it home to tell you that. You licked your lips as more tears fell from your eyes.

“Phoenix told me you almost didn’t make it home to me,” you replied shakily. He averted his gaze, but you stepped closer, your chest now resting against his own. It forced him to look down at you again, god, you were so close.

“How could you have left me without telling me that beforehand? I’ve–” you trailed off, a sob shaking you softly. Bob furrowed his brows, letting his arms wound around you to hold you steady against him.

“I’ve loved you my whole life… ever since I first heard you speak, I’ve loved you,” you cried “as more than a friend. I’ve wanted to be yours for so long, Robby,” Bob groaned, pulling you into a tight embrace, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as his lips found the top of your head.

“Sunny… you’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And I’ve always been yours. I’m sorry–” his voice broke again “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you. I never in a million years figured I’d be good enough for you,” his voice was raw with emotion, a raspy and deep quality to it that had you momentarily dizzy.

You thought you had heard every iteration of Robert’s voice that there was. Sleepy Robby, angry Robby, sweet Robby, sad Robby… nothing compared to this. Nothing.

“You stupid, stupid man,” you chastised him, a teary laugh falling from your lips as you broke free from his embrace. Bob had the decency to look bashful as he chuckled, thumb stroking over your cheek again. Your own hand raised, fingertips ghosting over his cheeks, the harsh feel of his stubble unusual for you. Your exploration continued slowly, before your thumb graced Bob’s lower lip, hearing his breath stutter in his throat.

“Kiss me, Robby,” you spoke softly, glancing up at those cerulean eyes you loved so much. The groan that left Bob was otherworldly to you as he cupped your face in between his palms, his warm lips descending upon yours as your eyes fluttered closed.

Bob could swear he’d never felt anything like it as his lips were met with your warm and plump ones, moving so slowly and deliciously against his own, small sighs making him a little crazy. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling. You felt like home. Hesitantly, Bob let his tongue wet your bottom lip, and the way you let him deepen the kiss had another groan leaving his lips as your tongue met his slowly.

“I never want to leave you again,” Bob leaned his forehead against yours as his eyelids squeezed shut.

“Then don’t,” you let a soft giggle escape from you. Bob only smiled, before he bent down, letting his hands rest on the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you into his arms.

“I need snuggles and I need them now,” he simply said as he walked you into his bedroom, carefully helping remove your shoes before he planted you in the middle of the comfortable bed. Removing his own shoes, Bob stripped out of his khaki uniform, leaving him in only his boxers - something you had certainly seen before, but something beautiful nonetheless.

He moved to climb onto the bed with you, but you held up your palm, stopping him momentarily as you wiggled out of your jeans and your top - needing to feel Bob’s skin against yours.

Bob offered you the softest of smiles before he laid down beside you, keeping a small distance between your bodies, not wanting to make the first move at touching you. Rolling your eyes, you muttered “silly man” before promptly draping your thigh over his, letting your stomach and chest snuggle close into his warm skin, your head resting against his neck.

“Thank God,” Bob sighed, kissing your forehead as his strong arms wrapped around your midsection, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. The same fingers that only hours ago had frantically manned the countermeasures and systems needed to get out safely. Bob squeezed his eyes shut before he took a shuddering deep breath.

“Hey, you’re here with me, Robby,” you spoke softly, resting your chin against his chest. “You’re here and you’re mine and I love you so much,” you continued, your fingers raking through his neat hair. He managed a smile, and his body relaxed against yours as he mirrored your movements.

“I’m here… and I’m yours, and I love you,” he repeated slowly, leaning against his forearm as he reached to kiss you again, one hand resting comfortably at the back of your head as his lips moved with yours. He felt your lips turn upwards into a soft smile against his own, and when you broke away from him, he let out a relieved sigh as he fell back against the pillows, eyes closed.

He smiled as he felt you climb on top of him, curling up on his chest, your head resting comfortably on his sternum, your thighs encompassing his hips. His palm softly stroked up and down your spine, and he swore he could almost hear you purring like a cat at his touch.

Soft kisses were shared between whispered words of comfort and love, and Bob had never thought he could be this lucky, to have his best friend dozing off against his chest, her kisses and her love soothing his rattled soul.

‘oh, you’re my best friend’

#bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fanfiction #my writing #love is in the air tgm

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