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sometimesanalice · 1 year ago

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Between Friends

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

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 11K

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

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

𝐍𝐎𝐖

Rooster couldn’t control his bouncing leg.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not once, not ever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him.

“How are things with your Dad?”

You offer him a shrug.

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

“Is it a guy?” Bradley tries again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your first…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The girl who just asked him to be her first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Bradley says, honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

And he means it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What a stud,” you tease.

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

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

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

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

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

He wipes his hands on his pants.

“You sure?” he asks again.

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

He nods, “Then I guess we just…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bradley?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know, some people call it foreplay,” he drawls. You’d roll your eyes but his fingertips are by your bellybutton again and you want him to keep going. “You ready for more?” You nod a few times because if he doesn’t touch you soon you might just crawl out of your skin. “Ok, gonna stop ‘teasing’ you now.”

This time his hand doesn’t stop at your bellybutton, it keeps moving down, down.

You stutter over a breath when Bradley’s fingers touch your clit. You feel yourself melt a little further into his mattress. He’s making easy circles, letting you get used to someone’s fingers other than your own on the most sensitive part of you. Your hands are clutching tightly to his comforter, unsure of what else to do with them.

“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” he murmurs. You feel your face heat up. He’d just given you a direction, but it sounds almost indecent coming out of his mouth.

You shift, moving your legs apart further for him, until he secures your left between his own, opening you up even more. You know you’re wet and now he does too. Bradley’s fingers slide easily over you as he increases the pressure on your clit. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you watching for your reaction as he figures out what you like the most.

It doesn’t take him long to learn your body. You don’t know whether to be impressed with him or embarrassed with yourself at how quickly he’s worked you up.

Your breathing feels so loud in your ears in the quiet room, every breath and sigh is amplified. There’s a certain thrill in not knowing how he’s going to touch you next, your own fingers pale in comparison now.

His warm breath coasts down the side of your neck causing you to shiver at the sensation. It makes goosebumps break out along your arms and your nipples pull taut.

He notices. Of course he notices.

“Are you cold?” His voice is low in your ear.

“No, I-” Oh god, you’re right there. “B-bradley, I’m-” You’ve made yourself orgasm plenty of times, but you’ve never shared that part of yourself with anyone else before. No one knows what you sound like or what you look like when you come. But now, Bradley was going to have the piece of you too. A whine escapes you without your permission.

“It’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.”

You’re seeking and searching, but it’s Bradley’s fingers that have the answer.

And you come with your stomach twitching and hips jerking as he murmurs praise in your ear.

His fingers slow down, featherlight on your clit, but your heart is still racing when he rasps, “There’s one, you up for another?”

Bradley loves that moment during sex when he hears that first gasp or moan. He loves learning what sounds of satisfaction he can pull from his partner. He loves knowing he earned it. But he never in his life could have ever anticipated hearing those sounds from you.

In his bed. Because of him.

He didn’t expect the lick of heat that curled up his spine at the shape of your legs and the curve of your ass as you were stepping out of your shorts. He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers.

Every hitch in your breath made his blood run hotter in his veins. He was trying to control his cock, but he’d started getting hard the second you’d pulled your shirt off. Your bra was some kind of sheer thing that left nothing to the imagination, and while he wasn’t trying to check you out- because that’s not how it was between the two of you- he couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down.

You’re slippery, wet, and warm. And he knows he can make you come again.

“Do you want me to use my fingers now?”

You crack an eye open at him, it’s the first time you’ve opened your eyes since he first touched you. Your eyes are bright in that way that only comes with an orgasm. “I thought you already were.”

“Such a smartass,” he grins.

Bradley changes the unhurried circles he’d been making on your clit to the upstroke that made your hips jerk up into his hand the first time he’d tried it. The little noises you’re making have him fighting the urge to grind himself against you for some relief of his own. He’s still got your knee tucked between his own; where there had been a hint of polite space between your bodies, the way you’re writhing now has him pressed up against your hip.

You gasp, breathily, “Oh, you’re hard.” The disbelief is evident in your voice, but it’s the look in your eyes that he doesn’t know what to make of, something like surprise.

He’s been trying to be a gentleman, this is about you and not him. There might not be anything romantic happening between the two of you, but this was hot and he was more than a little turned on. And he knows you are too because he can feel how wet you are under his fingers.

“’Course I am,” Bradley says, nudging his nose against your temple, “I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed half naked.” He didn’t want you to feel like you were in this on your own, so he lightly rocks against you. He wants you to feel him, he wants you to know he is into this too. “Are you ready more?”

“I’m ready, I want more,” you confirm, wrapping your hand around his bicep.

Your breath hitches as he teases you with just the tip of his finger.

He’s been told before he has big hands and thick fingers, he’s always taken it as a compliment in the past, but now he’s scanning your face for any trace of discomfort as he sinks one into you.

Your eyebrows twitch then smooth out and your mouth drops open as he starts pumping his finger into you in a smooth rhythm.

“That feels nice,” you sigh, airily.

He knows you like it when your hips tip up just a fraction. His comforter is bunched around your waist and your nipples are peaked against the see-through fabric of your bra. He gets his thumb on your clit and you whimper as you tentatively roll your hips against his fingers.

Bradley hums his approval, “Atta girl. There you go, find what feels good for you.” His voice sounds low even to his own ears, a throaty rumble. He feels you clench around his fingers and it sets his pulse racing. It’s a piece of information he tucks away for himself.

He’s gentle on your clit, but now that he knows you’re into it he’s setting a more purposeful pace with his fingers.

You’ve got your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, like you’re trying to swallow down your sounds. He didn’t realize how much he liked hearing these new sounds from you until you started trying to muffle them. On the next slide of his finger into you, he knows exactly what he’s looking for.

You suck in a sharp breath of surprise when he finds it.

“Is that the right spot, kid?” He sounds so smug. You curse and your hand clutches at his shoulder. “You want to try a second finger?” he murmurs into your ear.

“Yes,” you rock into his hand, “Yes, please.”

“Whatever you want, Miss Manners.” His chest feels like he’s taken a shot of Fireball. “You’re so polite when you’re trying to get your way.”

“I’m always polite,” you challenged weakly, pressing your head further into his pillow.

“Mhm,” he indulges, fondly, “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”

And then he fills you with two fingers.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you gasp, offering more of yourself to him.

Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder as he lets your whimpers and whines guide his hands.

The two of you have your eyes fixed on the way the tendons of the visible part of his forearm are flexing before it disappears under the covers as he works you.

Bradley curls his fingers into that spongy part of you and your hand flies to his wrist, gripping him tight. It makes him pause, worried that he might have pushed you too far too fast.

“No, no. D-don’t stop,” you plead, desperately, “I’m so close. Keep going, please.” You squeeze his wrist encouragingly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes. He focuses his efforts on that spot again now that he knows you weren’t wanting him to slow down, but rather trying to hold him in place. His fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit working in tandem to get you there again.

“I just- yes. Like that. Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh my god. Please, Bradley.”

He’s heard you say his name a lot of different ways, but never like this.

Your back arches and you twist yourself towards him, burying your face against him and keening into the hollow of his throat as you come around his fingers.

You jerk and writhe into his hand, your knee slips free of his and your thighs clamp together around him. Bradley rolls off the arm he’d been leaning on and brings it to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he steadily works you through it until you’re loose-limbed in his arms.

He waits until your rapid pants have evened out before he slips his fingers from you. The displeased sound that you make makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He should have known you’d be bossy. He rubs gentle circles into the divots at the base of your neck as you come down.

Bradley can feel your lips graze the side of his neck when you finally speak, “So, um, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I’d be happy to pass one along to your next partner.” You languidly prop yourself up on his chest and he notes with pride that you look a little flushed. “But, seriously, I get it now.”

He huffs a laugh as he toys with the end of your hair, “I’m glad it lived up to the hype. Well, at least that part of it.”

You press your lips together like you’re deciding something, tracing idle shapes on his stomach, and he can’t decide if he thinks you’re doing it without realizing it or if you’re the one doing the teasing this time. Your eyes flick down to his visibly hard cock and he feels his face heat up, “Can I?”

“Do you want to?” Bradley wants this experience to be everything you need and want it to be, but something about the tables turning here and the idea of you being the one to touch him like that makes his heart pound.

“I want to make you feel good too,” you softly tell him, resting your chin on your shoulder. The tender way you’re looking at him makes his teeth ache.

“Ok, but only for a little bit,” he agrees. Bradley knows he’s walking a tightrope with this, he’s aching and more than ready to be touched, but he doesn’t want to come all over your hand.

He plants his feet into his mattress and lifts his hips enough to pull off his boxer briefs, sighing in relief as his cock bobs free.

“That can’t be average,” you mutter under your breath.

He doesn’t know if you meant to have said it out loud but he smirks all the same, “I’ve never been average a day in my life, kid, Grade A student here.”

A groan slips out of him as your tentative fingers grasp his cock. There’s a lack of finesse in the way you touch him, your hand isn’t nearly as well-practiced as his own. He wraps his hand over yours, guiding your strokes as he shows you just what he likes.

“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. Together the two of you work him from root to tip.

Bradley had never given much thought to his size until now. He knew he was big, but seeing that your thumb couldn’t reach the tips of your fingers when your hand was curved around him was an ego boost he didn’t know he needed.

You get more confident with every glide up and down the length of him. Your tricky thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting what precum had gathered there, and it makes your hand slide easier over him. When he accidentally thrusts into your hand, you grin and there are those dimples again.

“Ok, ok,” he blows out a shaky breath, stilling your hand with his. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come. And I’m not about to be a one pump chump.”

“It sounded like you’re more of a ten pump chump, if I remember correctly,” you tease, looking all too pleased with yourself. “Don’t worry, Bradshaw, your street cred is safe with me.”

He shakes his head in amused disbelief, “You’re such a goddamn menace. I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.” He surprises the both of you when he wraps an arm around you and rolls to pin you under him.

And it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room because your thighs are cradling his hips and his cock is resting heavy on your stomach.

Neither one of you dare to move. He’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now, he feels out of his depth as he watches you watching him.

His tongue feels thick in his mouth, “Are you on-”

You nod before he even finishes the question.

“Do you have-”

He nods before you finish yours.

“What did you promise me?” he prompts, squeezing the dip of your waist.

You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake.

Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him, but he drops a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches over you into the drawer of his nightstand to fish out what he needs. He’s thankful when you don’t comment on it because he wouldn’t even know how to explain it.

He leans back on his knees and rolls the condom on with practiced ease, then flicks open the cap to the bottle of lube he’s also grabbed and drizzles it over his cock.

“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before.

“You’re plenty wet,” he assures you, pumping himself- once, twice- just enough to coat himself, “But this’ll be good too. I think you’ll like it.”

Bradley settles back over you, one arm braced by your head and the other on your hip, as your hands come up to rest lightly on either side of his ribcage. He rocks against you to demonstrate; the head of his cock nudges your clit with each silky pass. You exhale heavily at the sensation as he eases you into the motion of it, as he shows you what it’s like with another person.

You’re holding him close, and in just a moment the two of you will be the closest two people can be.

He makes only enough room to reach down between your bodies, only looks away from your face long enough to line himself up with you. There is such trust in your eyes as you gaze up at him, it’s not something Bradley takes for granted.

You nod, your fingers stroking his sides.

God, does he want this to be good for you.

He takes a breath.

And then he’s shifting forward and pressing in.

Bradley thrusts into you with all the careful gentleness you’d expect from him.

His thumb skimming along your forehead as he pushes in, in, in.

When he found that spot inside of you with his fingers, you thought you were going to fly away from the intensity of it, but then he’d pulled you into the safety of his arms and you felt like you could fall apart because he’d be keeping the pieces of you together.

He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know.

The more of him he gives you, the less you feel like you can catch your breath.

You feel hot, hot all over. And much fuller than you’ve ever been.

Some sound must make its way out of you because Bradley offers you a low soothing noise before you feel his lightly chapped lips against your temple.

There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. Always waited until you told him you were ready, until you found your balance. He’d held your hand as you cautiously rolled along the sidewalk, you were less worried about falling with him by your side. Only this time, his hand is on your waist and the only movements are his hips against yours as he rocks into you.

Little by little. Inch by inch.

You clutch at his biceps at the slight stinging sensation and you feel him hesitate.

“It’s just a lot,” you whisper. His fingers flex on your waist.

“You’re doing so good, just a bit more,” Bradley murmurs, encouragingly.

There’s pressure, there’s a give, and then there’s relief when his hips finally, finally meet yours.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath.

Your eyes had flickered shut somewhere along the way. You open them to see that Bradley’s face and chest are flushed pink, the muscle of his jaw flexing. The furrow between his eyebrows is so deep that you release your grip on him to smooth out the lines with an unsteady fingertip.

He reads the question in your eyes.

“You’re just really tight,” he grits out, voice strained.

You assumed that was a good thing, but he’s holding himself so tense above you that now you’re not sure. “Do I-,” you fumble over the words, “Does this feel good for you?”

He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-”

Your whimper cuts him off when he pulls out a fraction and then pushes back in.

His brown eyes take you in as he does it again, more this time. Pulling out just a bit- just enough- and then filling you again. The discomfort fading more with each thrust as he guides his hips to yours until yours are tilting up to meet his seeking more.

It’s a conversation between your bodies, the give and the take of it all as Bradley introduces you to this new unspoken language. You feel yourself flutter around his cock, stretched wider than you’ve ever been.

You feel that heat spreading underneath your skin again as he surely and steadily pumps into you. It feels like your nerves are on fire. You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third.

He reaches down and hooks your leg over his hip. His hand slides up along the outside of your thigh and under your ass, tilting your hips up towards his even more. He’s so much deeper like this. Your hands slide into his hair, tugging at his curls.

“Bradley, I-I think… I feel-”

“You’re gonna come,” he rasps, nodding at you. Encouraging, coaxing.

He grinds his pelvis against your clit with every deliciously slow roll into you.

Your mouth drops open at the feel of it, it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. Bradley’s pupils are blown wide, his heavy-lidded eyes are locked on yours. You didn’t know there could be so many shades of brown. His curls are a mess and it’s all because of you. He licks his lips and your breath catches in your throat when his eyes dart down to your parted mouth.

His next thrust into you hits that spot inside of you just so right that it has you gasping.

It’s so good, it’s too good, it’s overwhelming.

You wrap your arms around his neck clinging to him, your face buried against him. Bradley drops his head to your shoulder, you feel his lips brush against your clavicle. Your head moves away on instinct, making more room for him if he wants to do it again.

You get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the places you’ve heard about and read about, but have never felt for yourself until now. He’s still got your ass gripped in his hand, whereas your hands can’t stay in one spot. They’re tangled in his hair, running over his shoulders and down his abs, gliding over his back aided by the sheen of sweat he’s worked up.

You’re not trying to hold yourself back, but it feels like you’re standing on the tallest diving board at the pool, your toes curled around the edge, but still too nervous about the drop to jump.

“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.”

He gets his fingers back on your clit and it’s the end of you. Your back is arching so much you think you might snap. Your toes curl so tights they may never unfurl. The force your orgasm overtakes you, demanding everything you have up to offer and then some.

You hear Bradley’s moan as you pulse around his cock, trembling under him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. His hips stutter against yours, finally losing that steady rhythm he’d set, you pull him tighter to you and it’s not long until he comes too.

It’s all white noise. All you can feel is your heartbeat pounding, until little pieces of the world come back into focus.

The hum of the fan.

The beam of warm afternoon light through the blinds.

The smell of the now cold coffee on his nightstand.

In the after, you’re all too aware of every place your body is touching Bradley’s.

He’d somehow managed to roll on his back and had taken you with him. He was literally just inside of you, but yet it feels like your leg draped over his thigh is somehow more intimate. A prickly self-conscious feeling settles over you. Unsure of what the rules were for friends who just had sex, you attempt to peel yourself off of him, but the heavy arm over your waist keeps you in place.

“Come back here, kid,” Bradley mumbles, his eyes still closed, “I need to cuddle after I come, so I’m gonna need you to indulge me here for a moment.” He strokes a soothing hand down your back. And while he says it’s for him, you know he’s still trying to take care of you.

He hums when you lay back down. You set a hand on his chest. He reaches for it with his free one and threads your fingers together. It makes you melt further into him.

You feel a little different. But mostly, you feel like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying had been lifted off of you.

Your first time was everything you hoped it would be. You were safe and cared for, and you already knew, you’d never have any regrets about it. And it was all because of him.

“Thank you, Bradley,” you say, softly.

“Anything for you, kid.”

Your early morning catches up with you as you lay there, warm and secure. Your eyelids get heavier with each pass of Bradley’s hand along your spine. And you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.

You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley.

It was just… something between friends.

A few hours later the two of you are still in his bed.

Only now you’re clothed and swapping the cartons of Chinese food that he’d ordered while you’d napped against his chest, and fighting over the fortune cookies watching some reruns of old sitcoms. You couldn’t hear their laugh tracks over your own.

The last couple of days you had at UVA fly by just as quickly.

You don’t know how, but the two of you managed to cross of all the things on his Spring Break To-Do List. And before you knew it you were back at the airport.

Bradley had insisted on walking you in, wanting to see you off.

Neither one of you has ever been good with goodbyes. So you don’t give him one, instead you reach for your bag and tell him, “Ok, see you in June.”

Bradley doesn’t let go, clearly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”

You grin because it feels like a checkmate.

“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?”

He looks thunderstruck.

You and your mom already had the plane tickets and hotel room booked. Your stepdad wouldn’t be able to come, but he was planning on sending your mom with one of the cakes from his family’s bakery. You’d been tasked with finding out what flavor, carrot cake or peanut butter- Bradley’s two favorites- but you could iron out the details with him later.

You’d had a busy week, plus it was more fun this way.

Bradley tugs you into his arms, yours wrap around him just as easily as they always have.

“June?” he asks into the crown of your head.

“June,” you promise.

And when he lets you go- for real this time- it’s with a smile that takes up his whole face.

He doesn’t say goodbye either, “Be good, kid. See you in June.”

𝐍𝐎𝐖

You avoid Rooster for the rest of the night.

And Jake too, for that matter. Bless Javy for finding ways to distract him because you could tell than man was chomping at the bit for more details. But you’d already given him more than enough.

You could have lied, you probably should have lied. It might have been easier than feeling like you’d hung up part of yourself on the drying line for everyone to see. But in that moment, the thought of lying and saying anyone else’s name other than Rooster’s had made your stomach turn.

Because it was the truth, he was your first, but he was also your best.

When you come out of the bathroom, there’s no missing Rooster. He’s leaning against the wall by the entrance. It takes him a moment to notice you since he looks lost in thought, but when he does you feel pinned to the wall by the intense look in his eyes.

He stands to his full height as you approach, you know he wants to talk about it.

You shake your head at him, “We don’t need to do this.”

“No, kid, we really do.” He takes you by the arm and leads you to a quieter spot away from everyone else.

“It was just a game,” you start before he can, “And now I know more about everyone’s sex life than I ever wanted to.” He crosses his arms over his chest at your attempt at deflection. “Look, I’m really sorry if that was something you wanted to keep a secret or just between us. I should have asked you first if that was ok to share.”

“I don’t care about that.” Rooster waves you off and takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “All this time and I’m the best you’ve ever had?”

“Are we really doing this? Here and now?”

You peer around him to look and see if anyone is watching the two of you, it feels like a showdown. But all the Daggers are occupied, probably on purpose. You’ve never seen Mickey with such a serious look of concentration on his face.

“Here and now,” he confirms.

You feel flustered, “Rooster, it’s been 12 years and we haven’t talked about it once-”

“Bradley,” he cuts you off. He takes another step towards you, so you’re toe to toe with him. “I’ve always been Bradley to you.”

The tension that had crept up in your shoulders releases a bit.

“Bradley,” you say, softly. “Listen, I’ve had a lot of good sex since then. Great sex even.” He presses his lips together and nods. “And with other men, if I felt like they weren’t putting in their best effort I’d kick them out because the bar was set very high early on.”

You see him fight back a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, with pride.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, you know he hears it because his eyes take on a richer shade of brown. You both feel the shift, tension churning between the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “But I was telling the truth when I said you were my best. Probably because of the way you made sure I knew that you cared. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different with you.”

You feel his finger graze the back of your hand.

The sounds of the Hard Deck fade into the background as you stare at each other. Entire conversations are being had as you look into his eyes and he looks into yours. Words and sentences spoken with glances.

Just friends don’t look at each other like this.

“It’s never been like this,” you whisper, “We’ve never been like this before.” You gesture at how close he is to you.

How he’s almost got you backed up against a wall.

How he’s looking at you like you’re his.

“I know.”

He says your name and your heart somersaults in your chest.

“I want to see your tattoo. I keep finding myself looking for it when we’re all at the beach. And then I get annoyed, knowing that people have seen it and I haven’t.”

“My tattoo? Bradley, what-”

“I want to see your tattoo,” he repeats like it’s a fact. “And I want to punch Seresin in his smug face every time he flirts with you.”

You roll your eyes, “Jake doesn’t flirt with me, not really. He just likes riling you up.”

“What if I said I wanted to try this as more than friends.” Bradley settles a large hand on your hip. “What if I said that since you’ve moved here I’ve had a hard time keeping my head on straight.”

“Bradley.” His name falls out of your mouth so easily now that it can.

“I want to take you home with me. I want to kiss you. I want to make you come. I need to know if you sound the same in my bed. And then I want to take you out for breakfast and buy whatever fancy coffee you want and as many pancakes as you can eat.”

You’ve been told that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he has always worn his on his face. There’s no mistaking the open want on his face.

“Bradley, it’ll be different this time.” For so many reasons.

Because it’s not a favor being asked. It’s not some new experience being tried with the person you trust the most, with everything. You’d be on equal footing. It wouldn’t be a friend helping a friend, the two of you would be crossing that line between friends and more because you want each other in that way.

“I want it to be different, sweet girl,” he says, cupping your face in his familiar hand, “I’m ready for it to be different, if you are.”

He looks from your eyes down to your parted lips.

“We didn’t do that last time,” you whisper. Feeling brave, you reach out and run your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.

“No, we didn’t,” he agrees. His eyes are trained on his thumb as he skims it under your lip. “And that’s a damn shame.”

Bradley’s face is all you can see. Warm eyes, a still-straight nose, and a soft smile that is for you and you alone.

He dips down and your eyes flutter closed, your head tipping up on its own in anticipation.

His lips brush your cheek. It’s not enough.

You tug on his collar, but he chuckles and kisses your cheek again, lingering longer this time.

“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps.

You open your eyes and see the amusement in his. He always did like teasing you.

“Oh, where do you plan on doing it then?”

“Outside your front door, like a gentleman,” he says, like it’s obvious.

You can’t help but grin because Bradley Bradshaw can’t wait the extra 10 minutes it would take to drive to his place instead of yours. He wants that kiss just as badly as you do. You watch as a matching smile to yours blooms across his face.

It feels normal to slide your fingers between his much larger ones. It feels right as you lead the way out of the Hard Deck with him only a step behind you.

As it turns out, he only makes it as far as the Bronco before he’s spinning you back towards him and pressing you against it. His hands are on your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you for the very first time.

Bradley kisses you like a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is you.

It’s not tentative in the way that first kisses usually are.

He kisses you like he knows you.

Because he does.

Later, when he closes the door to the Bronco for you, it feels like the end of one thing. But as he slips his fingers into yours when he backs out of the parking space it feels like the beginning of something new.

That night tangled in Bradley’s sheets- he’d kissed you at every light which made those extra 10 minutes it took to get to his home worth it- he makes your back arch and your toes curl as he makes you come with his fingers and mouth and tongue and cock. His lips dropping kiss after kiss on every part of you that he can reach. Because he can, because you want him and he wants you.

The way he touches you tells you that he remembers it all.

He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last.

And he’d be the only man to ever have your entire heart.

Happy Birthday Jordan! An AU just for you! 💖 I adore you and I hope this year is the best one yet!

A big thank you to @callsignspark and @ofstoriesandstardust for their help and beta reading and their woogirling! I appreciate you two so much!

Author's Note: this was a "what-if" AU set in the 'Like I Can' universe! If you want to read about what really happens you can read it here!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun imagine #topgun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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oscpstri · 1 month ago

Text

not my team | formula fun

ft. hadjar, leclerc, albon, lawson, colapinto x fem journalist!reader

formula 1 drivers know the drill: when you're given a pen and merch, you sign it. but would they still sign it if it wasn't their merch?

INCLUDES: profanity, idk man its just cute, short bcs tiktok style duh

NOTE: got this from vcarb admin giving isack an inter jersey during the finals. didn't include all the drivers because too many, just went with the first vcarb vid i saw and based it off that.

( formula fun | mics up )

★ ISACK HADJAR

You run up from behind Isack— phone recording in one hand and the other clutching onto a white shirt and a marker.

"Isack!" you call out. He walks slower when he hears your voice, turning just in time to see you next to him. His smile appears even larger when he notices the phone in your hand, already knowing that you were probably up to no good.

You stick the shirt and marker out to him, nodding once. "Could you sign this please?"

"Sure." He takes the shirt from your hands, opening the marker with ease. Until—

"This—" He stops in his tracks, making you giggle from behind the camera. He makes eye contact with the phone then to you comically, dramatically dropping the shirt and the marker.

He picks it back up after a few seconds, holding it up to the camera. The color of the shirt definitely resembled VCARB team gear which was why the rookie didn't question further. But when he actually looked at the shirt, the silver arrow of the Mercedes logo smacked him right in the face.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asks in his thick accent, not even bothering to look at the device anymore and just asking you straight up. You laugh even harder at this, not able to look at the Frenchman directly in the eyes.

"Woops?"

★ CHARLES LECLERC

Charles was notorious for signing things that he didn't need to. Just give him a marker and something else and he'll be so caught off guard that you wonder how he hasn't accidentally signed a marriage contract yet.

So when you saw him at the Ferrari hospitality during media day signing a box-load of hats, you knew it was the perfect time to strike.

He was almost done with autographing the signature red Ferrari hats and you were off to the side, ready with your phone already recording in one hand and a driver's hat in the other. As he was down to his final one, you quickly walk up to him.

"Charles, could you sign this for me?" You ask, immediately placing the hat in front of him. And just like you thought he would, he signed it without thinking and only then realized the odd color of the driver's hat once he lifted his marker up.

He freezes in his seat, eyes scanning the papaya colored hat and the number 81 embroidered on the brim. He looks up at you with wide eyes, blinking comically like he was a kid that just got caught stealing candy.

He remains quiet as you take the hat from his hands, looking at it impressively with a smile. "Thanks!"

He buries his face in his hands, chuckling in disbelief. He looks back at you after a few seconds, mouth still carrying a smile like he couldn't accept the fact that you had just tricked him like that.

"I can't believe you just did that." You smile at him, laughing at his reaction.

"I have an Oscar Piastri hat signed by his father. Wow, this one's gonna sell."

★ ALEX ALBON

Alex immediately clocks you walking up to him as he made his way down the paddock. A grin appears on his face as he practically side-eyes you, already anticipating the worst.

"Could you sign this for me?"

You stick the hat and marker out for Alex to sign, urging him to take it. He only looks at it with a knowing look on his face. Damn Alex Albon and being chronically online.

"You've seen this before haven't you?"

He nods at your question, a giggle leaving his mouth as you groan in exasperation. He still takes the hat and marker anyway, popping the cap off and signing on the brim of the hat.

"Charles told me about what you did. Hilarious by the way." Alex gives you the marker and the hat back, still smiling ear to ear.

"Thanks." You look at the autographed Mercedes hat then back at Alex. "I'll give this back to George. Say his idol signed it for him."

Alex nods once at this before looking back up with a shimmer in his eyes. "Or you could give it to Lando."

You look at the man like he just solved world hunger. A grin broke out on your face as the both of you nod in agreement.

"I should have you help me out more on these pranks."

★ LIAM LAWSON

"Oh god." Liam groans as he sees you walk up to him, phone held up as you recorded the interaction. "What do you want?"

You look at him with faux sadness, sticking your bottom lip out dramatically. "I'm hurt."

Liam tilts his head at this, shaking his head in disbelief at your antics.

"Sign this for me, will you?" You toss him the team shirt, marker following suit. He catches it effortlessly, going to remove the cap from the marker.

You catch his eyebrows furrowing at the color of the shirt before he finally lays it flat on the table. He sees the familiar logo of his senior team and his shoulders drop, hand falling onto his lap as he looks at you with a flat stare. You swore his expression screamed: "I'm not paid enough for this."

"This isn't even my team." He nods his head towards the shirt. You zoom the camera in to the Red Bull logo before zooming back out to capture the New Zealander's face.

You feign innocence, shrugging like you didn't know any better. "Red Bull, Racing Bulls. Tomato, tomahto. Same same."

Liam continues to look at you in exasperation, a smile of disbelief on his face. He was absolutely done with your pranks. You bite back your smile, eyes still carrying a mischievous glint.

"Wait. You are Max Verstappen, right?"

★ FRANCO COLAPINTO

You couldn't really sneak up on Franco, because as soon as he saw you, he immediately lit up and started yapping away. He never even noticed the phone you held up, nor the hat and marker you had in your hand.

"And did you know that—"

"Franco," you cut him off. "Could you sign this?"

He quickly glances at the things in your hand before taking them without a question. He continues on what he was talking about, not taking his eyes off of you while his hands pop off the cap of the marker. He seems to find the brim of the hat immediately, marker making contact with the surface. But before he could continue on signing, he instinctively looks down and only then notices the black hat he was holding.

His hand immediately retracts, blinking and staring at the hat like it would somehow tell him why this was all happening. He then looks back up at you with his eyebrows furrowed, a confused look on his face.

"This is... Haas?"

You laugh at his confusion. The poor guy still didn't get it until you told him, his concern going away as he then joined in and laughed with you.

"But I— There's a dot on it from the marker." He shows you the crime scene, a tiny white dot from the marker was left on the brim where he initially made contact. It wasn't noticeable and you definitely didn't mind. He did though.

"Don't worry. It's mine."

He looks up at you with knit eyebrows, a worried expression on his face. "Are you sure? I can get you a brand new one."

You shake your head at his offer, putting your hand out so you could take back your things. "It's fine, Franco."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." You chuckle at his worry, reassuring him that it was fine.

"I'm still getting you a new one."

Sure enough, Franco came up to you in the paddock next week with a fresh Haas hat— the exact same one as your crash test dummy. Except this time, it was signed by the driver who actually owned the number on it.

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yanderedrabbles · 3 months ago

Note

does yandere boyfriend play video games? or is he the backseat gamer while reader does all the work?

Yandere Boyfriend Reviews Your Favourite Video Games:

He's most definitely a backseat gamer. Doesn't like playing anything scarier than Stardew Valley. Not very good with technology, so don't even try bringing a gaming PC near him.

However, he loves it when you play games. Has his own little chair set up to watch you and everything. Obviously, his favourites are story games. Stuff you can enjoy together without him having to pick up a controller. I'd like to think he has his own little review thing going. Maybe on some niche part of the internet, like the male version of Girlfriend Reviews. Who's reading his posts? I'd like to think other yanderes, who want to ensure their locked away darlings are getting the proper (and appropriate) enrichment.

Here are some extracts from his reviews:

Do NOT buy your girlfriend Dark Souls. When she can't beat the boss she WILL try and beat you instead. The issue isn't her hurting you, but the fact that she will sprain her wrist when she tries it. And then get mad at you for letting it happen. And then get even more mad when the bandages means she loses another boss fight. Save her the pain. Don't even look at Fromsoftware games.

ARTHUR MORGAN WILL STEAL YOUR GIRL! He's going to steal her away for at least sixty hours. But the more likely scenario is that you won't see for about three hundred. And when she finally emerges, she'll be crying and asking you to buy her a cowboy hat. If the TB didn't finish him, I'd have shot the bastard myself for making her cry. Don't buy Red Dead Redemption 2.

Ghost of Tsushima is a beautiful game with a beautiful story and beautiful scenery. I just wish Jin wouldn't keep getting into hot springs naked. I don't want my girl seeing all that.

The Sims was fun up until the part she turned me into a character and then locked me in her basement. Then it got really fun.

I'm never buying her Call of Duty again. She keeps trying to tell me that its 'just fanfiction' and that she doesn't 'really like Ghost like that.' Yeah right. Why does some fictional prick in a cheap mask have her blushing so much anyway? She really likes that mask, though. Hmm. Maybe I ought to get one too...

Stardew Valley is wonderful. But why do all these little people think they stand a chance with my girl? Their carrot planting season isn't optimised at all, and they think they're worthy of her? Take a hike pal. Try again when your harvest yield isn't so pathetic.

Love & Deepspace shouldn't get within a hundred feet of your girl. Stupid pretty boys with their stupid hair cuts and stupid smiles and stupid-

#Yandere Boyfriend #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere drabbles #Yan.txt

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delopsia · 2 months ago

Note

Characters: Bob Floyd, Bob Reynolds, Rhett Abbott

Event: Moonlit Bull Riding

Premature ejaculation 👀

And I'm adding roses to the bouquet 🌹🌹 <3

Thank you!! ^w^ This was so fun, haha ⭐Join my Starlight Stampede Event! ⭐

Moonlit Bull Riding — Send any kind of thought or request for your rider(s)

Bob Reynolds °.•☆

"Hurry up," you giggle into his mouth, clinging to his shoulders like a piece of Velcro. Every hesitant step backward feels like a risk, this is it, this is when the world spins and you fall right on your ass. As if the firm hands on your waist would ever let you— You're falling. The couch cushions greet you like a soft cloud. Until Bob's rock-solid body collapses on top of yours, knocking the air out of your chest. "Robert!" You squeal, hammering a fist against his chest. He doesn't react.

Did he even feel that? "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," kisses flutter over your face, one after the other, far too sweet and chaste compared to the way his cock rests between your legs. "Are you okay?" "Shockingly, yes," nothing feels broken, at least, otherwise you wouldn't be canting your hips up against him, unwilling to waste any more time than you already have. There's only so much time before his friends come knocking for a very, very scheduled movie night. Friends who are more than capable of getting past a flimsy little lock. But Bob is quick to kick back into gear, using his weight to smother you into the couch cushions and, in turn, dragging his weeping cock between your folds. His tip massages against your clit, rubbing back and forth in short little motions that have your knees fluttering, bumping against his hips. "Bob," dragging out the vowel, you force your eyes to open, peering up at him. Pleading. He reels back just far enough to catch on your entrance, pressing slightly, only to slip past it entirely and— Cum spills onto your pussy without the slightest warning, his hitched moan breaking through the air like thunder after lightning. That's a sight you haven't seen in a while, his pretty cock twitching against you while his orgasm washes through him. "Well, I didn't mean for you to hurry up like that," reaching up, you tap him on the nose. One, two, three times. He blinks with each one. "Oops?"

Rhett Abbott °.•☆

There's a shiver in your hand as you draw his cock out from its confines, fueled on by the rumble of every car that drives past. The last of the rodeo crowd, heading off in their own directions, blissfully unaware that you're even here, wrapping your lips around the local rodeo champions dick. "Fuck, that's it," Rhett grasps the back of your neck, gently squeezing, "'s your lil mouth always this fuckin' wet?" It's a good question that you don't have the answer to. It feels like you're drooling, saliva spilling down the sides of his cock as you flick the tip of your tongue over his slit. There's only so much you can do to catch it before a mess begins to form, sinking down as quickly as you can. "Shit, shit," he jumps, a spur chiming as he kicks his foot at the floorboard. It strikes the gas pedal; the engine roars. Someone yelps. From the sidewalk, you think. Drawing yourself back up to pay attention to his cock head, you can see Rhett fumbling around in the side mirror. He's tilting his head back, sliding that felt brown cowboy hat over his face, concealing his expression. Muffled voices draw close. You do the only thing you can think of. You drop back down, urging yourself to relax as you take him further into your mouth. His tip brushes the back of your throat, sparking your gag reflex, spontaneously fluttering around him. He gasps. "Baby." Cum paints your tongue. Flooding your mouth quicker than you can react, fighting to swallow it down without choking. Tears string at your eyes. The hand on the back of your neck yanks you back up just as you begin to sputter, gasping for air. "You," speaking in between breaths, your voice hardly audible, "are no better than a damn virgin." And for once in his life, Rhett is too flustered to retort.

Bob Floyd °.•☆

Your mouth finds its way to the soft spot beneath his ear, sucking a light red mark into it before he has a chance to chastise you. Stupid Navy and their stupid, bone-headed need to keep him away from you for six whole months. Don't they know who he belongs to? "Has anyone ever told you that you look hot in this uniform?" You muse aloud, half-assedly drawing him out of his slacks. This probably violates some kind of niche code, jerking off one of the Navy's best WSOs in his fancy little uniform. "You," Bobby's groan is so much louder than it was over the phone, "every time I put it on." A sloppy kiss lands further down his neck, not quite what you were going for. "Shhh, it was rhetorical." His cock twitches in your hand. You've done something right. The front door finally, finally clicks shut, effectively pronouncing Robert Floyd home for the first time in what must be a millennium. Such a return should at least warrant using the bed, but you're not suffering through another second without this, not after that excruciating drive home from the airport. Bob's hands are on your face, drawing you to look at him. Eyes meet, and his lips crash into yours. Sloppy. No skill or technique to be found, burned away by the heat of the moment. Saliva drips between your mouths, his teeth nip at your bottom lip. Your wrist twists, working just as recklessly as the rest of you. And maybe you would be able to find the reins of your compsure if Bob wasn't fucking himself into your fist, chasing you every step of the way. Sensitive. So, so, so sensitive. It's a wonder he doesn't— He stills. Gasping into your mouth. Your hand is suddenly wet. "Cumming already?" You tease, but you're already working him through it, flicking a thumb over his tip. Fuck, he just doesn't stop cumming, there's so much of it that it spills through your fingers as you spread it over his cock, makeshift lube. "Oh my god," his eyes roll, lashes fluttering with an aftershock. "Give me...a minute. I don't want this to end, yet."

#delgato's starlight stampede #bob floyd x reader #rhett abbott x reader #bob reynolds x reader #delgato's asks #robert bob reynolds x reader #robert bob floyd x reader

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devildomwriter · 6 months ago

Text

Fun Facts 871-880

• Mammon accidentally ate a cursed candy that forced him to become studious. His brothers were so weirded out they avoided him.

• Before knowing it was cursed, Mammon bought a toy car for his look alike plushie.

• Asmodues once mistook a tree shadow for a cat. Satan wanted to see the picture of it anyway but was angry to learn Asmo just immediately deleted it.

• According to Satan, once a book it acquired it should never be sold

• Barbatos caught Belphegor from accidentally falling down the stairs in his sleep. Asmo thinks it wouldn’t been the perfect meet-cute moment if they’d been strangers.

• Raphael doesn’t like being brought into Simeon and Lucifer’s arguments and does his best to stay out of it

• Beelzebub once accidentally bit into a giant cloud hamster. If it likes you it will let you climb onto its back which feels like laying in a cloud.

• A migrating bird that can shift into a hat once stayed with MC for a few days before continuing its migration.

• Simeon points out that Lucifer treats Luke like a younger brother, never fails to greet him, “throws him a lot of bones”, and joins/guides him on fun adventures. Lucifer still pretends this isn’t the case even with overwhelming proof.

• When in crisis, Luke ran to help strangers without any consideration about his own needs and safety.

861-870 • 881-890

#obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me barbatos #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me Raphael #obey me lucifer #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me fun facts

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onlyswan · 2 years ago

Text

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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midnight-mourning · 2 months ago

Text

Siren's Curse (Of Bad Luck)

🐟🐟Midnight's DCA MerMay Day 13🐟🐟

this one was a treat bc i got to include pirates and i think you all know how much i enjoy pirates, also just a silly treat overall, enjoy!

Prompt: Hiiii Midnight!! :) For my request, Siren Reader trying to lure the boys to their death, but reader is really really bad at it. In their failure the three become really close. I want reader to be mad about it for a while too that they don't find them 'scary' after a while. The boys can be mers or human, does not matter.

DCFPU prompt used: Pirates

Word Count: 2214

will be posted to ao3 later this evening

🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊

The waves around you lap lightly across your tail and against the rock upon which you sit. The moonlight above peeks through the clouds in streaks. It's serene, soothing, would lull you to sleep if you didn't know better. Because moment's like these usually don't last.

And much to your total surprise, it doesn't.

Out in the distance, a ship slinks across the horizon towards you. Even from here you can make out the chatter of its crew, the creaks and groans of the ship as it rocks against the waves. You sense the nervous energy which winds around each person aboard like a vice. Feel the nervous beats of their tender little hearts. Almost taste their fear. Good. As they should be. It makes things that much easier for you.

You've got a bit of an excited thrill in you yourself. This is what you were waiting on. The night would have—admittedly—been boring without someone showing up with the hopes of trying to pass you. And some of your most fun was being able to lull them into a false sense of security before ultimately—well, you're getting ahead of yourself.

Unable to wait, you dive down into the water below practically without a sound. You swim with ease over to the ship, popping up next to the hull. Now much closer, you can make out the distinct mutterings and mumblings of the crew. All worried about sirens and curses and more. All of it relating back to you.

You want to give them a little scare. Really rattle them before the main event. You open your palm then drag your claws against the wooden hull, the loud, abrupt scratching sound it makes all but halts the conversation above. You muffle your own snickering. You wait a minute or so, until they've started talking just a little more again, then start to hum.

At this, they delve into harsh whispers, someone shouts 'Siren! It's a siren!' before they're hushed. Enough's enough, you've had your fun, so you shift from humming to singing.

You've done this so many times now it's easy, though by nature your song comes to you without effort. It rolls off your tongue as smooth as the finest of silks, soft as the breeze and gentle as the sea on a calm day. You sing with passion, you sing of desire, and you sing for those who need it.

As you sing you slowly work your way up the side of the ship, clinging to the wood and ropes as you go. You'll try to pluck off which ones you can that are within your reach, that should give the rest enough of a hint to leave and never come back.

You've made it up the edge, spying an entranced sailor right within your reach. You shift your song to be more directed at him, hand outstretching lovingly. You're about to take hold of him, drag him down with you—only for cold iron to be pressed to the side of your temple, followed by a click.

You waver, startled, but still keep your song up, perhaps it's someone who's got a bit of cotton in their ears, trying to resist. No matter, they'll succumb soon enough.

But your voice practically dies in your throat upon seeing who—or what, rather—is pointing a weapon at you.

A person who wears the clothes of a man but looks nothing like it. With skin the color of the sun and shiny metal in his exposed joints. There's no hair on his head, which is instead surrounded by large orange triangles—which are pierced with small rings, again like the rays of the sun. A hat sits upon his head, and with the rest of his dress you surmise he's likely the captain. Nothing like any captain you've ever seen.

He's not human, that's for sure.

Nor is the other man—other... captain...?—that appears from behind him.

You can only stare in amazement, confusion, and slight irritation at the two of them. Suddenly unable to muster your song. The remaining crew is still very much dazed, and would remain so for at least a little while.

The one with the gun clears his throat. "Not very polite to come aboard a sailor's ship without permission, Little Fish."

You swallow, still trying to keep your words honeyed beneath your reply.

"Not polite to point a gun at someone for doing so."

You hear a few clicks, they're coming from his head, you realize. "Trespassing."

You glance up to the black flag waving from the mast. "You're pirates."

"Even worse, then." He tsks.

"If I'm trespassing on your ship, you're trespassing in my waters."

Head tilt. "You own the sea?"

"Something like that. This bit of it anyway." You press your temple more against the gun, annoyed.

"Perhaps you'd be interested in sharing?"

"Not really—"

The other man—who had a blue and white face with inhuman red eyes—suddenly steps forward, trying to take the pistol. "This is a waste of time, I'll handle this if you won't."

You suddenly begin singing again then, and still to your dismay there's no effect on either of them, but the others on board are still pulled under your song, and using this to your advantage are able to create a distraction that allows you to dive back down into the water below.

When you emerge again a bit further away—and hopefully out of range—you look back to the ship, where the two from before now stand clutching the railing.

"I'll consider this a mishap and let you live for now, but next time, don't count on being so lucky." You grin, diving under the waves though in reality, you're both frustrated and baffled.

It must have just been a fluke. An odd happenstance. Those occur sometimes, right?

Right?

As you would come to find out, apparently that odd happenstance was a common happenstance. But one that only occured with those two in particular.

Captain Sun and Captain Moon—as you'd come to learn—were entirely unaffected by your singing. Worryingly so. No, confoundedly annoyingly so.

They would appear every couple of weeks, always trying to get past you and always failing. But not because they were enthralled by you, no it was only their crew that was affected by you. Which made this whole ordeal that much worse for you. You couldn't scare them off for long no matter what you did! The pirate ship continuing to blemish your waters like an ugly thorn in your side.

But while that was utterly annoying, the part that bothered you the most specifically was that no matter how much you sang, how well you sang, or what song you used, it did absolutely nothing to them. They always told you it was because of what they were—automatons and not human beings—but you refused to accept that.

They seemed to find it amusing even, your efforts that is. Which only fueled your frustration and almost led to them succeeding one day. Too baffled and embarrassed that you practically croaked out several times before you could reorganize yourself.

Though you admit, you think part of it may just simply be... fluster on your part. In the months since your first encounter, they've made conversation with you, starting brief, but growing longer with each passing visit. You think to them it’s almost a bit of a game. To you it’s... something else.

The feeling's quite unfamiliar to you and you certainly don't like it. The way your heart sometimes flutters when Sun banters with you, or when Moon threatens you, no longer with the animosity he once held. How you can't seem to take your eyes off them with every added visit. Coupled with your inability to get them under your spell it all makes you angry.

Angry at yourself, and certainly angry at them.

Such anger simmers under the surface with this latest visit of theirs. They skip the formalities, as they have the past few times. Instead anchoring their ship further away and using a long boat to meet you in your usual spot. Just the two of them, of course. Rub it in even more that you have no effect on them.

"Afternoon, Little Fish," Sun calls out to you as they approach.

You spare him a brief wave, busy sharpening your claws against the rock. "Captain Sun, Captain Moon."

"Formal today aren't you?" Moon chides. "Is something the matter, Star?"

"Perhaps they're upset it's been so long since our last visit. Got bored out of their mind without us to pester them," Sun snickers.

"The gift we have might lighten their mood then. Maybe they'll even let us pass."

"Now that's wishful thinking."

At that they both laugh. It only serves to make your anger flare further.

Your claws scrape against the rock, agitated, but collected. "I have no need for gifts. Nor the desire for them." You go so far as to turn away from them once they reach you, feeling hurt at the confirmation that you're just an obstacle to them.

There's quiet behind you, only the sound of shifting mechanisms that you once found intriguing, alluring even. Now they only serve to remind you that you're no equal to them.

The hand on your shoulder instinctively makes you want to turn and fight. The closeness unfamiliar, frightening. You resist, however, out of something called 'common courtesy' as Sun once described it.

"Have we upset you?" Moon asks, tone now concerned.

Another hand, this one clasping yours in your lap. "We're terribly sorry if that's the case."

This closeness, the false worry in their words, it strikes deep in your heart. Deeper than even the wound of your inability to charm them.

"Do you know the reason why I won't allow you safe passage through here?" you ask them, soft.

Sun's chin rests on your shoulder. "Because you find it amusing?"

"Because we're pirates and you find that morally abhorrent?"

"It's because it's my home." You sigh, eyes trained on the waters in front of you. "And it's my duty to protect it for those who can't. To keep them safe. I sing for me, and my own entertainment, yes, to a point. But I also do it for them."

"Why are you telling us this?"

You turn to Moon, bitterness written across your face. "Because I'm making it clear to you that no amount of anything will get me to change my mind about letting you through. So, toy with my feelings all you like, but it won't make a lick of difference."

"Toy with your—Little Fish, is that really what you think?" Sun raises his hand from your shoulder, reaching up to turn you to face him.

You swallow. "Of course it is. You've made it abundantly clear all you see me as is someone in your way. Not to mention how you've wounded my pride with your inhuman ability to resist my song."

"Well to our credit we're not human—" You hear metal hit metal behind you, and Sun flinches. "But that's beside the point. I apologize on both our behalves that you feel that way, Love. Because it's far from the truth I assure you."

Moon moves closer, gentle, unlike him. "We initially intended to slip by you, yes. But that was before we met you, got to know you. Began to care for you."

"Do you think if we were just using you we'd keep coming back?" Sun raises your hand to his face, pressing a kiss to it. "Do you think we'd be this close with you, so open?"

"Isn't this what normal humans or automatons do between friends?" you ask bluntly.

They both seem to freeze for a moment, sharing a glance. Then, they start to snicker, before bursting with laughter.

You feel your face heat up, Sun speaking to you between fits of hysterics.

"Not-not in the slightest, Little Fish. I would never hold, kiss, or cherish someone I didn't adamantly love. I doubt Moon would either."

"I have no frame of reference, how was I supposed to know!" you bluster.

Both captains continue to laugh at your expense, while you continue to process what they've said.

Again, your face feels warm. "So, all this time you've been... courting me? And I didn't even know?" Your hands come up to your face, groaning.

Moon snickers, arms wrapping around you. "You were too busy trying to lure us to our deaths."

"Which, perhaps you'd have better luck with if you didn't have to contend against these." Sun reaches into his shirt and pulls out a chain with a bright green gem on the end. It reflects the light of the day intensely, so sparkly it burns.

It takes you a moment, but then it clicks. You gape, expression souring.

"That's cheating!" Despite the confirmation of your shared feelings just seconds ago you now have the desire to throttle the both of them.

Still, in the laughter you now share with each other, you feel a sense of peace, of completeness, that you'd never experienced before. You relish in it.

And in getting to snatch up those pretty amulets they're wearing just to prove a point.

Though, you've suddenly lost the voice to sing.

What a pity.

🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊

Thank you for the request @fishm0ther!! as i said very much had fun with it and i'm content with how it turned out ^^ thanks for reading!!

Masterlist post is here

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@machopeach @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzy-bee @hazelthebat @nightriverart @mr-munchies @sun-and-moon-fun

#fnaf dca #dca fandom #daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #moondrop #sundrop #dca fic #x reader #dcfpumermay25 #mermay 2025 #mm dca mermay #midnight mutterings #writing requests #so far behinddddd #GRAHHH #at the very least im making progress with my research today #so theres that

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2b4st4r · 9 days ago

Note

Heyyyyyyy here's another request please and im sorry!! Strawhats x fem reader where fem reader is a gentle quiet person who likes to draw. But she comes from a loud wild fun big(im talking like 10 siblings big and shes the middle child?)family? So when the strawhats are with her its just so peaceful but when they meet her family theyre shocked that she isnt like them? But her family truly loves her and she just prefers quietness over loudness but she does participate whenever they have activities(if its not too wild yk). So when they do play a game and reader finally gets active the strawhats see a new side to her and theyre just all happy that she's happy? Anyways last request for this week🙂😭

The Artist Unveiling

Straw Hat Pirates x Reader

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐

⋆˚࿔ Words: 5,571

ᯓ★ Warnings: there’s none really!! maybe hinted fem reader but that’s really it:)

⋆˚࿔ A/N: I actually had such a fun time writing this. As someone who is a middle child in a large, unruly family, this was amusing. ( ˘ ³˘)

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐

You never really saw the point in talking when your hands could speak volumes more. It wasn’t that you disliked conversation; it’s just that your voice often felt unnecessary.

The Thousand Sunny had its pockets of quiet, if you knew where to look. The upper deck at dawn, the lawn deck after supper, or the observation room late at night once Nami was asleep. But the rest of the ship? Silence was a rare commodity. Luffy's endless shouts about meat or danger, Nami barking orders from the helm, Usopp and Franky's raucous laughter over explosions and inventions. Even Zoro, usually so stoic, managed more grunts and growls in a day than you uttered in a week.

Still, they never seemed to need your words. They managed just fine without them. It made you wonder if you were invisible, or just… an adjacent presence. You truly loved them. They were warm, wonderfully chaotic, larger than life – like your family back home, only wetter, louder, and somehow even more prone to dramatic outbursts.

So, you showed it instead. Love, appreciation, worry, loyalty—it all came out in gestures, in sketches, in small, thoughtful things they never had to ask for.

You’d leave a stack of hand-drawn posters, depicting meats and victorious poses, by Luffy's hammock. He’d believe they'd magically appeared, proudly slapping them onto the mast, always exclaiming, "I LOOK SO COOL!" You never set him straight.

You'd sneak into the galley when Sanji wasn't looking, reorganizing the spice shelf exactly how he liked it, even though it made no sense to anyone else. You'd leave neatly folded drawings of rare fish near the fridge, ones you remembered from the waters they’d passed. Sometimes he found them. He never said a word, but they’d remain tucked behind the glass of his spice rack.

You’d mend tiny tears in Zoro’s waistband when he'd carelessly left his swords lying around like some wayward teenager. You knew he probably wouldn’t notice your stitching – he barely noticed if his shirt was inside out – but you did it anyway. Once, after his hundredth push-up, he grunted when you handed him water. You counted that as a thank you.

For Robin, your gifts were always quiet: pressed flowers placed between the pages of her books, shaped into hands, sun hats, or other delicate forms. She always saw them. Sometimes, she’d glance your way, a thoughtful look in her eyes, soft with an understanding you never needed to articulate.

Franky would find blueprint doodles slipped under his door. Just ideas, silly ones: a cola-powered bird, a submersible duck, a cannon shaped like a fist. He once left a thumbs-up sticker on your pencil case, and it was still there.

Usopp received drawings of his tales: Sniper King with glowing eyes and a flowing cape, vanquishing ten-ton sea beasts with a slingshot made of sea prism stone. He’d beam for a week afterward, convinced Luffy had drawn them. Luffy, of course, denied it. You never corrected either of them.

Brook got a song sheet – a half-finished melody you weren’t sure he’d understand. The next day, he played it. Softly, slowly. It had no lyrics, but you hummed along when no one was listening.

Even Jinbe. You’d observe the tension in his shoulders during battle, the way he sat alone after dinner, always facing the sea. You left a drawing on the railing beside him, a depiction of the ocean from below. He held it for a long time.

They didn’t always see you. Most of the time, they didn’t know who cleaned the cannon barrels, untangled the ropes, or replaced the busted hinge on Nami’s drawer. Most of the time, they’d assume it was someone else – Robin, Chopper, or even just the wind.

And maybe that was perfectly fine.

Because you did have things to say. You just said them in ink and charcoal, in brushstrokes and fingerprints. And when you couldn’t say “I love you” in words, you drew it – over and over and over again.

Your sketchbook was filled with them.

Your family. Your loud, wild, beautiful family.

Back home, silence wasn’t a given; it was a luxury you had to fight for—sometimes quite literally.

Ten siblings. Ten. That wasn't a family; it was a constant storm system. Shouts echoing down the hallway at sunrise, sandals flying in impromptu chases, arguments over chores escalating into full-blown warfare. Someone was always crying. Someone was always singing. Someone was always breaking something.

And then there was you. The quiet one. Smack-dab in the middle. Not the oldest, not the baby. You learned to exist in the in-between spaces, in the corners, in the moments when no one was paying attention. That's when you truly thrived, with a pencil in hand, a notebook tucked under your arm, and a world of your own making inside your head.

But don’t mistake that for passivity.

You were competitive. Cutthroat, if we’re being honest. Games of tag devolved into warzones. Arm wrestling matches usually ended with someone in tears (most often your older brother). Once, your cousin dared you to race him across the rooftops. You fell, cracked two ribs, and still claimed victory because he tripped first. Your mother grounded both of you, but your siblings declared you a legend.

You were quiet, sure. But when it mattered—when someone challenged you, or a goal was in front of you—you ignited. There was a fire in your belly, something sharp beneath your stillness. And your family saw it. They never mistook your quietness for softness. You were a force in your own right.

The Straw Hats hadn’t seen that side of you.

And you were determined to keep it that way.

The Sunny didn’t need another chaos engine; Luffy filled that role perfectly. You didn't need to prove yourself with shouting or competition here. On this ship, you could just be. You could draw in peace, offer quiet help, and let your love be known through actions.

Still, there were moments—tiny ones—that reminded you of home. The way Sanji would yell, “DON’T WASTE FOOD!” just like your second-oldest sister used to. How Chopper would puff up, embarrassed by praise, so much like your little brother. How Nami haggled with vendors as if she were born to it; your mother would have adored her.

Sometimes, you’d catch yourself smiling at their bickering, their teasing, their noise. It didn’t annoy you the way it used to back then. Now, it warmed you. It brought back memories of late nights squished between siblings on the roof, watching stars and daring each other to jump to the neighbor’s shed. Of stealing the last dumpling and feigning innocence until chaos erupted. Of bruised knees and belly laughter.

One night, Luffy threw a spoon at Zoro across the dinner table. Zoro caught it without looking. Nami smacked both of them with her shoe. Sanji screamed about manners. You bit back a grin. Home, you thought.

But even with all that comfort, all that familiarity… you kept your competitive side buried.

You didn't want them to see it.

Didn't want Luffy to get that look in his eye, the one that screamed, “LET’S FIGHT!”

Didn't want Usopp to challenge you to a game of darts and never recover from the inevitable defeat.

Didn't want Zoro to grunt, “You’re not bad,” and then make you train at sunrise for the rest of your life.

So you played your part.

Quiet. Gentle. Helpful.

The invisible current beneath their wild tides.

And for now, that was enough.

It was a slow day at sea. No islands dotted the horizon, no danger loomed, not even a weird sky fish appeared to distract Luffy. Just sun, ocean, and a rare breeze that made the sails flutter gently, like laundry on a line. Everyone was restless in their own way, but not enough to tackle chores or engage in training. Inevitably, boredom had taken root.

That’s when the idea struck.

“GAME NIGHT!” Usopp bellowed from the deck, standing tall on a crate as if declaring a national emergency.

You looked up from your sketchbook, a pencil still resting against your lower lip. Your spot in the shade beneath the mast had been perfect, your drawing of Robin nearly complete. But already, Luffy had seized Chopper, shaking him with glee and shouting something about "ultimate championships" and "you’re going down!"

You offered a small smile, quietly closing your sketchbook and tucking it under your arm. You didn't always join in, not because you didn't want to, but because… well, your voice tended to get swallowed in all the shouting, and sometimes it was easier just to watch.

But today—maybe today you’d try.

They dragged out a small stack of makeshift games Sanji had salvaged from some market: dice, a deck of uneven cards, strange board pieces shaped like sea creatures, and a cracked hourglass filled with pink sand. Nothing matched. Nothing made sense. But somehow, it worked.

“What are we playing?” you asked, just loud enough to be heard.

Chopper’s eyes lit up. "Y/N! You’re playing too?!"

You nodded, slipping into a spot between Robin and Franky on the grass. Nami gave you an approving glance—one of those small looks that made you feel seen without a single word.

“Alright,” Usopp announced, holding up a tattered rulebook as if it were sacred scripture. “We’re playing ‘Pirate’s Gamble.’ You get three coins, two cards, and one challenge per turn. Lose your coins, you’re out. Win the most cards, you win the game.”

Zoro grunted. “Sounds stupid.”

“Too bad,” Nami said, already shuffling the deck. “We’re all playing.”

The game made no sense. None of the rules were consistent. Sometimes winning a round meant arm wrestling. Sometimes it meant guessing a number between one and a hundred. Once, you even had to balance a spoon on your nose while telling a joke, which ended with Luffy choking on laughter and Sanji yelling that it didn’t count.

But you played. You sat there quietly, watching, listening, picking up the flow like you always did. And when it came time for your first challenge—arm wrestling Nami—you hesitated.

Everyone leaned in. You were quiet. Gentle. The one who drew them in soft colors and pressed flowers into their maps.

But you weren’t weak.

You gripped Nami’s hand, your eyebrows raising slightly when she smirked at you. She expected it to be easy.

You let her believe that.

Then, in one sudden snap of movement, you pinned her hand flat against the crate.

Silence.

“…What,” Nami said.

Luffy screamed, “THAT WAS AWESOME!!”

Zoro squinted at you. “Huh.”

Usopp’s mouth hung open. “Have you been hiding your strength this whole time?!”

You didn’t say much. Just gave a small shrug and smiled softly, your cheeks warm.

The game continued, louder now, more chaotic, and somehow even more fun. You didn’t win—you weren’t trying to—but you didn’t disappear, either. You played. You laughed a little. You high-fived Chopper when he beat Zoro in a rock-paper-scissors challenge. You drew a doodle of Franky with seaweed hair and slid it across the circle, and he snorted.

They were loud. You were not. But you belonged there.

And when the sun began to set and the laughter finally faded into yawns and leftovers, you slipped away to your corner with your sketchbook. But this time, it wasn’t to be alone. It was to remember.

You sketched the game. The way Nami’s jaw dropped. The way Luffy’s fists punched the sky in joy. The grin on Chopper’s face. The chaos, the color, the energy.

You loved them.

And they were starting to understand the way you showed it.

It had been a long time since you’d last seen your family.

Your father. Your sisters. Your brothers—older, younger, the twins, the baby. Too many names to list, too many memories to sort through. You missed them all with this dull, low ache that you kept tucked somewhere behind your ribs, like a sketch you never finished—always there, always waiting for the right moment to return to.

And then the moment came.

“We’ll be docking at the next island for a couple days,” Nami announced one lazy afternoon, charting the wind with her usual fierce concentration. “Should be a decent place to restock and stretch our legs.”

You heard the name of the island, and your heart stopped. Just for a second. Long enough that the sound of it echoed through your chest like a bell struck underwater.

That was home.

Your hand twitched around the pencil. You blinked down at the drawing you were working on—Luffy, asleep in a tree—and smiled without realizing it. A small one. The kind you didn’t even notice on your own face unless someone else pointed it out.

“Y/N?” Robin tilted her head toward you, watching.

And that’s when it slipped out. “That’s my home island.”

The crew perked up instantly.

“No way!” Chopper gasped, bouncing in place. “Really?!”

“That’s awesome,” Usopp grinned. “You gonna show us where you grew up?”

You nodded, and this warmth unfurled in your chest, soft and blooming. “I can’t wait for you to meet my family.”

You didn’t say how many.

You didn’t think you had to.

You just laughed quietly when Luffy declared, “I BET THEY’RE AS QUIET AS YOU!” and you murmured, “…Something like that.”

You could feel the buzz in your bones as the island came into view. Familiar trees, familiar cliff shapes, the scent of the coastline—it all came rushing back in like it hadn’t been years.

The Sunny hadn’t even fully dropped anchor before you were standing at the railing, fingers gripping the wood, eyes scanning for the dirt path that curved past the hills, for the old fishing shack by the beach. Your heart was hammering like a drum solo in your chest.

And just as you thought maybe they’d all forgotten, you heard it.

A scream.

“Y/N?!!”

It was your little sister’s voice. Then your brother’s. Then your cousin’s. Then more—voices layering over each other, racing, yelling, erupting into the wild chaos that was your family.

“Y/N’s back!!”

“I SEE HER!”

“I CALLED HER FIRST!”

“NO YOU DIDN’T, I DID!”

The shoreline was suddenly full of bodies.

A stampede.

Your siblings, all shapes and sizes, barefoot and wild and fast, tore across the sand like a tidal wave. You barely had time to brace before the first one slammed into you—a tackle-hug so powerful it nearly knocked you off the deck.

Then the rest came. Climbing over the rail. Clinging to your arms, your shoulders, yelling in your ears, ruffling your hair, kissing your cheeks. A blur of voices, of too many names shouted too quickly.

You were buried.

Utterly and completely.

The Straw Hats stood frozen behind you.

Luffy blinked. “…Huh.”

Zoro, who’d wandered out to see what the fuss was, stared. “How many are there.”

Sanji’s cigarette dropped from his mouth.

Chopper counted on his hooves, lost track at six, and gave up. Usopp was pale.

Brook whispered, “Yohoho… it’s like she was raised in a stampede…”

And Nami, wide-eyed, leaned toward Robin and said, “I don’t think she mentioned the number.”

You, at the center of the chaos, laughed. Laughed. Loud and bright and free, the kind that rarely made it past your lips. Your younger sister clung to your waist, the twins fought over who you missed more, and someone yelled, “YOU’RE FAMOUS NOW?!”

You looked back at your crew, breathless, grinning.

“This is them,” you said. “My family.”

They didn’t say it, but you saw it on their faces—everything made sense now. The reason you were so quiet, so careful. The reason you didn’t need to shout to be heard. You had come from a place where noise was a given, and peace was something you carved out for yourself.

They watched you in this new light, surrounded by love and mess and too many arms around your neck.

You weren’t just the quiet girl with the sketchbook anymore.

You were their quiet girl with the sketchbook.

And you were loved. Loudly. Unconditionally.

Just like always.

You hadn't worn a smile like that in ages. Not the polite, almost imperceptible ones you offered when someone praised your art. Not the shy, fleeting grins for Chopper’s latest herb discovery or Zoro’s rare, gruff "good job." This was different.

Your face was alight, a full-force, cloudless sunshine kind of smile, teeth showing, eyes crinkling at the corners. A laugh kept bubbling in your throat, like soda shaken too long, and your cheeks actually ached from the sheer joy of it.

You turned to your crew—your second family, the ones who had rarely heard your voice above a whisper—and with your siblings still clinging to your arms, you beamed at them. “Everyone,” you announced, “meet my family.”

A dozen heads whipped toward the Straw Hats with wild, unbridled curiosity. Immediately, the chaos reignited, like fire doused in oil.

“Is that the one with the green hair?! He looks so mad!”

“Whoa, he’s huge! Is he a fish?!”

“Which one’s the captain?”

“That one has a sword in his mouth!”

“Is that skeleton real?! Can I touch his bones?!”

“*You travel with boys?! Oh my god, you have a crush on one of them, don’t you?!”

“No, she doesn’t!” one of your little brothers snapped indignantly. “She’s a pirate queen, obviously.”

Luffy was already knee-deep in the sand, tangled in a joyous pile of your younger siblings like he’d always belonged there. “YOUR FAMILY IS AWESOME!!!” he screamed, getting a piggyback ride from a six-year-old. “Wait—Y/N! Is that your mom?!” He pointed to your father, who stood in the distance, watching the pandemonium with arms crossed and a crooked, proud smile.

“No, Luffy,” you said gently, a soft chuckle escaping. “That’s my dad.”

“Oh.”

Nami, meanwhile, looked like she was clinging to sanity by a thread. “How do you function with this many siblings? How do you even breathe?”

You just shrugged, still grinning. “You get used to dodging elbows.”

Your older sister, arms crossed, eyed Nami up and down. “You’re the navigator?”

Nami raised a brow. “Yeah.”

“Huh,” your sister said, a flicker of approval in her gaze. “You look expensive. I like it.”

Nami blinked. “…Thanks?”

Sanji was practically swooning, stretched out in the sand like a man utterly overwhelmed by beauty. “So many younger siblings… This must be what heaven feels like…”

“You lay one finger on any of them,” you warned sweetly, your voice surprisingly firm, “and I will draw you falling off a cliff. And then make it happen.”

Usopp was swarmed, your cousins hanging off him like festive decorations. “Are you really a sniper?! Do you have a gun?! Have you killed someone?!”

“W-Whoa, whoa, let’s stick to ‘incredibly heroic storyteller,’” he stammered, sweating profusely.

Zoro looked mildly uncomfortable with a toddler attempting to scale his leg. “Do they bite?”

“Sometimes,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“…I respect that.”

Brook had gathered a small, mesmerized group, playing a soft tune on his violin while two of your sisters meticulously braided tiny flowers into his coat. “Yohohoho, I haven’t felt this youthful in years!” he laughed, then added, “Ah wait… I’m a skeleton, I don’t feel anything at all.”

Jinbe, calm and composed, knelt beside your father. The two had somehow gravitated to the same quiet edge of the crowd, exchanging a look that spoke a thousand words men of few words never needed to utter. Respect. Pride. Trust.

Robin stood beside you, watching the scene unfold with a soft, knowing smile. “They’re exactly how I pictured them,” she said.

You glanced sideways at her. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Loud. Chaotic. Completely in love with you.”

You paused, looking back at your sprawling family—your siblings running in dizzying circles, your father pretending not to smile as he watched you, your crew folding effortlessly into the madness as if they’d always belonged.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back another huge smile, but it burst forth anyway. “They remind me of you guys,” you said quietly. “It’s kind of the same. The noise. The warmth. All of it.”

Robin gently bumped your shoulder with hers. “We’re the same in your eyes?”

You nodded. “Always have been.”

And maybe it was the way you were glowing. Maybe it was the way you stood taller, laughed louder, moved freer. But your crew saw something in you they hadn’t before. A different side. A side not hidden by silence or shadow. A side that truly shined.

And even though the day had only just begun, even though Luffy was already making plans for some sort of “welcome-home feast,” and your siblings were excitedly mapping out pirate-versus-family obstacle courses, you knew one thing for sure:

This—all of this—was home.

And now you had two of them.

By midday, someone had unearthed the old wooden crates from behind your family’s house—the very ones your older brother had once defaced with crooked numbers and audacious declarations like "BATTLE ZONE" and "ARE YOU A COWARD?" in black tar paint. These weren't just family games; they were meticulously disguised warfare, and with the Straw Hats now in the mix, the battlefield had gloriously expanded.

It was, frankly, inevitable.

“Alright!” your cousin bellowed from atop a barrel, a whistle dangling from her neck as if she were born to orchestrate delightful mayhem. “Family vs. Pirates! Winner gets bragging rights and the last piece of sweet bread!”

That, predictably, snagged Luffy’s attention. “I’M IN!” he roared, practically vibrating with excitement.

“What are the rules?” Zoro inquired, already cracking his knuckles with a dangerous gleam in his eye.

Your cousin simply grinned, a wicked glint in her own. “There are none.”

Robin let out a soft, amused chuckle. “This is going to be entertaining,” she murmured, a hint of genuine delight in her tone.

You stood in the middle of it all, your smile still blindingly bright, but now subtly sharpened—like sunlight catching on finely honed glass. The familiar warmth radiated from you, yet something in your eyes had distinctly shifted. You bounced lightly on the balls of your feet, cracked your own knuckles with a satisfying pop, and tilted your head, a predator scenting the wind.

Nami, ever perceptive, glanced at you sideways. “…You good?” she asked, a flicker of surprise in her expression.

You merely grinned, a wide, genuine, slightly terrifying grin. “Yeah. Just haven’t played this in a while.”

The games commenced with "Island Dash," a relay-style race that demanded barefoot sprinting, audacious object collection from various corners of the village, nimble dodging of surprise attacks from ambush-loving siblings, and the supreme challenge of returning without dropping a single precious item.

You ran second for the Straw Hats.

Usopp was up first, a whirlwind of panicked energy, sprinting like his very life depended on it, yelling something incoherent about ankle traps and “dirty tactics!” And just as he launched himself in a dramatic dive for the baton, you snatched it cleanly out of midair, a blur of motion, and bolted.

You were no longer merely running; you were a silent, focused, lethal streak. You didn’t just move; you weaved, a master of your childhood terrain. You remembered precisely where the hidden traps would be, the exact crate your younger brother favored for ambushes, the spot where your sister would feign a trip only to actually trip you if you weren’t careful.

You leapt over a rogue bucket with effortless grace, slid under a flapping clothesline with surprising fluidity, ducked a projectile shoe (courtesy of a grinning Zoro) without losing a single beat in your stride.

When you hit the finish line, your crew stood utterly dumbfounded.

You barely even breathed hard. You simply handed the baton to a wide-eyed Chopper and turned, a calm, deeply satisfied nod your only commentary.

“…What was that?” Sanji managed to stammer, looking utterly flummoxed.

“Y/N’s got wheels,” Zoro muttered, a rare flicker of impressed surprise in his usually stoic gaze.

“She’s holding back!” Luffy crowed, his grin widening impossibly. “I knew she was hiding something!”

Next up was "Tower Wars."

The objective: stack wooden crates as high as humanly—or pirate-ly—possible, climb to the precarious summit, and plant a flag—all while the opposing team relentlessly tried to dismantle your architectural masterpiece with bean bags, strategically aimed buckets of water, or, in true family fashion, mild but potent emotional damage.

You didn’t even flinch when your cousin, mid-climb, shrieked your full name and dramatically recalled, “Remember when you cried ’cause your drawing got smudged in the rain?!”

You simply reached the top, casually body-blocked a perfectly aimed flying sandal with one arm, and planted the flag with the other, all in one fluid, defiant motion.

The cheers from both teams were deafening, a riotous symphony of familial pride and grudging pirate admiration. Even your dad cracked a rare, proud smirk from his chair near the porch.

By the third game, "Screaming Toss"—which involved yelling trivia answers at the top of your lungs while attempting to catch slippery, overripe fruits—you were fully, gloriously locked in. Competitive. Focused. And, to Nami’s delight and slight bewilderment, sharp-tongued in a way that made her eyebrows shoot up, prompting her to mutter, “So she does have a savage side.”

You were still undeniably you—quiet, kind—but now your crew could see the spark. The undeniable fire. That unshakable, unstoppable part of you that never needed words to make itself loudly known.

When your brother tried to psyche you out during a round of “Truth or Dare Dodgeball,” yelling a ridiculous dare as he threw, you wordlessly dodged the incoming projectile, caught the ball with lightning speed, and pegged him squarely in the shoulder without so much as a blink.

“Holy crap,” Usopp whispered, wide-eyed. “She’s cold.”

“She’s awesome!” Chopper squealed, bouncing with glee.

And by the end of the day, with everyone utterly exhausted, adorably covered in grass stains, various bruises, and a smattering of leftover flower petals (courtesy of Brook’s impromptu floral arrangements), the Straw Hats and your family had sprawled out across the hillside in a magnificent, tangled heap. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in fiery hues. Luffy had one of your younger siblings asleep on his chest, snoring contentedly. Sanji was amiably grilling something delicious with your older brother, trading secret family recipes. Franky and your cousin were locked in an epic arm-wrestling match, grunting with effort. Nami had cunningly stolen someone’s towel and repurposed it into a perfectly squishy pillow.

And you?

You were lying comfortably between Robin and your younger sister, your sketchbook open, rapidly capturing the day’s glorious chaos in quick, sure lines. Your sister leaned into you, whispering silly jokes that made you quietly snicker. Robin held a fragrant lemon sprig between her fingers, a thoughtful smile playing on her lips. “You really should’ve warned us about your competitive streak,” she mused.

You smirked, a knowing glint in your eyes. “You would’ve made me team captain.”

“We still might,” Nami called out from her comfy towel-pillow perch.

Luffy stretched, a wide, contented grin on his face. “Y/N, your family’s CRAZY.”

You looked over at them all—the pirates who had become your second home, your family tangled up in theirs, the lines between them gloriously blurred and non-existent now—and you simply smiled.

“They’re just like you guys,” you said.

And this time, not a single soul argued.

That night, the entire island was ablaze with celebration. Lanterns, strung between trees, glowed like tiny stars pulled from the velvet sky, their warm light dancing in the gentle breeze. The air was thick and sweet with the intoxicating scents of grilled fish, steaming rice cakes, and roasted fruit, while laughter spilled out from every shadowy corner of your old village. Your father had unearthed the ancient fire drums; someone else coaxed a soft melody from a flute. At the heart of it all, a colossal bonfire roared like a primal heartbeat, drawing everyone in, moths to its flickering flame.

The usually boisterous Straw Hats had never been quieter, not out of discomfort, but out of sheer, wide-eyed awe, as your childhood friends and siblings enthusiastically dragged them into wild dances, fiercely competitive food challenges, and gloriously off-key singalongs.

Luffy, a whirlwind of pure joy, spun around with two shrieking kids perched on his shoulders, his head thrown back in unrestrained laughter, narrowly avoiding a collision with the groaning food table.

Sanji was locked in an epic cooking showdown with your third-oldest sister, the two of them flinging seasoning back and forth like a pair of culinary duelists. Your sister, to everyone's surprise, was clearly winning.

Usopp, meanwhile, found himself cornered by your relentless cousins, forced to spin more pirate tales—though they kept shouting, "More blood! More danger!" like a pack of pint-sized, bloodthirsty editors.

Zoro, surprisingly tranquil, sat cross-legged by the roaring fire, a bowl of something steaming in his lap, a small toddler completely passed out against his shoulder. He made no attempt to move, not even when Nami, ever the opportunist, teased him mercilessly. "Look at you, Mr. Softie," she cooed.

"Shut up," he grumbled, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks.

Chopper, utterly delighted, had found a kindred spirit in your village healer, the two of them deep in animated conversation about rare herbs, both giggling like excited children.

And Brook… Brook was performing. Full-on concert mode. Violin in hand, his polished bones gleaming in the firelight, your entire village swayed and danced to his music as if they’d known the melodies their whole lives.

And you?

You were sitting quietly at the edge of the fire circle, your sketchbook resting on your knees, your eyes glowing with the reflected firelight. You didn’t need to draw tonight. Not right now. You just wanted to see it all, to let every vibrant detail burn itself into your memory.

Robin settled gracefully beside you, sipping the warm tea your father had brewed. She glanced your way, a soft, perceptive gaze.

“You’ve never looked happier,” she said gently, her voice barely a whisper above the joyous din.

You blinked, surprised by her observation. Then… you simply nodded. “It’s been a long time since everything felt… whole.”

She offered you a warm, knowing smile, a shared understanding passing between you. “It suits you.”

A chorus of shrieks suddenly broke out from the center of the crowd as one of your younger brothers, with mischievous glee, managed to trick Luffy into eating something impossibly spicy. Luffy let out a primal scream, his face contorting, before he shot off into the woods, chasing the giggling culprit and yelling, “COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE DEMON!”

You laughed, a genuine, unrestrained burst of mirth, covering your mouth with your hand.

Then your father approached.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and quiet, just like you. His hair held more streaks of silver than you remembered, but his dark, familiar eyes softened with profound affection when he looked at you. He wordlessly handed you a steaming cup of something. Not tea. Not alcohol. Just the spiced citrus drink he always made when you were sick as a child.

You took it in both hands, murmuring a soft, heartfelt “Thanks, Dad.”

He sat beside you, the bonfire’s fierce dance reflected in the depths of his eyes.

“You look good,” he said simply, his voice a low rumble. “Brighter.”

You looked out at your crew, then at your siblings, at the seamless blending of two worlds you never imagined could fit so perfectly together.

“I feel brighter,” you admitted, the words a gentle exhale.

He nodded once, a silent affirmation. “That’s what family’s supposed to do. Bring light to the parts of you that forget how to shine.”

You stayed there a long while, letting the warmth and the glorious noise wash over you, a soothing tide.

Later, as the bonfire burned down to embers and people began to curl up in cozy blankets or sway sleepily to Brook’s final, soulful song, your siblings gathered around you one by one. Some drifted off to sleep against your side. Others clung loosely to your arms or draped themselves across your shoulders like content cats, seeking your comforting presence.

You didn’t say anything.

You didn’t have to.

Your crew saw it all. The tender way you held your sister’s small hand. The gentle way you tucked your brother’s unruly hair behind his ear. The way your smile never faltered—not because you were trying, but because it had simply become a permanent part of your face.

It was Nami who spoke first, her voice just loud enough for the rest of the crew to hear above the dying embers and soft murmurs.

“…She belongs here,” she said, a note of quiet understanding in her tone.

Luffy, chewing contentedly on the last piece of sweet bread, tilted his head. “Nah.”

They all looked at him, curious.

“She belongs with us,” he declared, his voice ringing with unwavering confidence. “But this is part of her too.”

You didn’t hear their words, lost in the sweet symphony of the night.

But you didn’t need to.

Because that night, wrapped in layers of love, noise, starlight, and the glowing embers of the bonfire—you knew.

You were exactly where you were meant to be.

With all of them.

Two families. One heart.

And for once, you didn’t feel like the quiet one at all.

You just felt gloriously, utterly whole.

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #straw hat pirates #straw hats #straw hats x reader #pure fluff #wholesome

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fight-for-what-you-love · 10 months ago

Text

♪ Worldwide - Big Time Rush

I'm gonna be honest- these episodes kind of fell apart while I was making this. The more I re-wrote the story for it's second draft the less this version made sense and the less interested I was to work on it. I have not much else to say except sorry this part is kinda iffy and sorry it took so long. I promise you I'll make up for this in the next episode I PROMISE

Notes on both episodes under the cut!

Sweden Sour

* (I think it’d be really funny if Cody just doesn’t talk at all this episode. Not a word. Just nods and head shakes and depressed faces.)

* Cody’s incredibly depressed after Noah’s elimination. Sierra’s over the moon, though. She sees Cody depressed and gives him a tight side hug, petting his head. She tries consoling him with “I know you’re sad, but it’s ok! At least I’m still here~.” Cody starts sobbing, head in hands. Heather is sick of this already.

* The teams get their “ibuilda” pieces and the Amazons argue on what it’s supposed to be. Cody stares at the pieces for a few seconds before the light briefly re enters his eyes. He starts building. Courtney tells him to stop but Heather tells her he’s obviously got it, so let him work. They start helping him build… something.

* Once the Amazons are done, Heather, Sierra and Courtney take a step back to see what they’ve built. It’s a giant wooden Noah head. Their faces drop. Heather is filled with murderous rage.

* We built Noah’s face (We’re gonna take first place) Cause we built Noah’s faaaace

* Tyler’s jumper would be white.

* Cody doesn’t sing in this number. Chris notices and stares at him threateningly. He reluctantly hums the chorus and Chris takes what he can get.

* (Alejandro takes off his shirt to pull the boat like a freak. Duncan is unfazed and Tyler will deny it if you ask him if he blushed.)

* Sierra hits Noah’s Head hard enough it falls over on its side and suggests sawing off the side to ride in him like a boat. Heather and Courtney agree to this. Cody has no comment.

* Duncan and Alejandro don't bother bending over backwards to please Tyler. Duncan makes himself captain and no one argues.

* When the Amazons go to pick a captain, Courtney grabs the hat and declares herself captain without input. Heather tries to argue but Courtney argues back- Cody is in no condition, no one trusts Sierra and Heather took control the last challenge so this time she’s in charge. Heather reluctantly backs down.

* Amazons catch up to team Chris in the water. Alejandro sees them approach and makes note of Cody’s face, making fun of him for being so upset about “the Noah thing”. Cody furrows his eyebrows and points furiously at Chris’s boat. Courtney agrees that yes, they should shoot their boat.

* It doesn’t matter who wins the challenge since it’s a non elimination round, but I want to say the Amazons persevere. The massage helps Cody enough that he’s not stone faced next episode at least.

Aftermath III (Aftermath Aftermayhem)

* Gwen, Owen and Noah are introduced together. Gwen walks out first and Owen, hugging Noah to the point of lifting him off the ground, walks behind her.

* Geoff asks what all that’s about and Gwen responds that Owen refused to let him go until Noah “understood just how sorry he was”. Noah insists he forgives him, but Owen still won’t let him go.

* The Owen square is replaced by the Tyler square. The prompt is survive. (The hosts throw a bunch of debris at the contestant for thirty seconds and if they dodge everything they move on.)

* (For brevity’s sake, assume all of the contestants that participated in the board game in the original episode participated here [with the exception of Tyler, who is replaced with Owen]. They all get eliminated the same way as well, Noah getting got by aliens, Owen falling down the booby trap square and Beth making it to the final question.)

* When Beth gets stumped on the last question (What was Duncan's band called) Noah yells at her, frustrated: “Oh my- It’s Der Schnitzel Kickers, Beth!!” Confetti and balloons fall from the ceiling.

* (He knows this because Cody had mentioned it in a conversation after the London challenge.)

* Noah initially complains about winning the game, but Owen reminds him that he gets to see Cody again and he shuts up immediately.

* “Noah wins!” “Wasn’t he disquali-” “NOAH WINS!! Let’s wrap it up. We’re done here.”

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revelboo · 2 months ago

Note

Freaking out because I think I’ll be at the same Jeep event as you this weekend!!! Not sure but if I spot soundwave I’ll be sure to wave!!! Have so much fun!!! 🎶☀️🏝️

Awesome! I’m here until Sunday staying close to the Pierk Park side. If you see a dork in a straw cowboy hat and a Soundwave ITA bag wandering around, that’s me. Soundwave’s across the road. I need to turn him around early tomorrow morning when there’s less traffic to face the road because I’ve already caught one guy bent over trying to remove my steel Decepticon tow hitch cover. He’s not getting it off without serious tools, it’s a locking hitch pin, but it still annoyed me that he was trying 🤣

Safe

Armada Starscream

• Head lifting as he comes online, he vents tiredly as you roll slightly, breath hitching. Nightmares again? Gently pulling you into his chassis, he catches your wrists and you shudder. Mumbling nonsense while tugging against his grip. “I’m here,” he murmurs, resting his chin on top of your head and humming. That old Seeker lullaby draining the tension away every time. Hears your little, shuddering sigh as you hide your face against him and his spark aches.

• Letting go of your wrists to pull you into his frame, he soaks in the warmth of you. Singing tiredly to you. Sometimes he does this his whole sleep cycle. Shielding you from your nightmares at the cost of his recharge. But he doesn’t mind if you feel safe. Feels your warm breath on his neck as his palm slides up your spine. Wishes he knew what you dream of that hurts you so much, but he’s almost certain he does know. Hates it. Hates that place he’d found you and the human who’d broken you.

• Drifting in and out of sleep, you hear his deep voice. That alien song you can’t understand in his gruff rumble sinks into you. Calms you. Chases away the past and the nightmares until you just feel safe. One of the mini-cons warbles softly, its own voice twining with Starscream’s and you smile. “Did I wake you up?” You ask and the song falters.

• “I was already awake,” he lies, feeling guilty even as he says it, but he doesn’t want you to worry over keeping him from recharging. Palm sliding against your spine, he vents to pull your scent deep into himself. “Were you dreaming of him?” That human who’d hurt you, left bruises on more than just your skin? And you tense against him. While you’ve told him some of it, he knows you’re holding back more.

• Eyes burning, you press your face against his neck. Because you’re safe. You know you’re safe and loved, but you can’t stop worrying. That Starscream will get tried of you, that he’ll abandon you for someone else. Another Cybertronian. And you’ll lose this fragile happiness, your home. Being with him making you realize that word’s never been something you’d really understood looking back. You’d lived places, but they’d never felt like this. Never been your home. It’s him. He’s your home and you’re terrified of losing him.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #armada starscream

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saturnznct · 11 months ago

Text

the sims | dad!jake

➸ note; just a summary of the sims :)

➸ word count; 2189 words

➸ warning(s); accidental pregnancy x2, a bit suggestive, birth & feeding, cryptic pregnancy

enhypen masterlist (lnks will be added later)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you and jake meet when he and jay go to a bar together lol the two of you can’t stop staring at each other and jay, with the help of some liquid courage, convinces jake to go up to you and get your number

so you start hanging out

he’s so shy with you at first because he has such a big crush and you think he’s just adorable

one day he just thinks fuck it and kisses you and the rest is history

you’d been together for seven years and engaged for a few months when you get pregnant

you were usually great with protection but one time you’d run out of condoms and just decided to take the risk

you were terrified to tell him but he was excited, but a bit unsure of what to do

once your little bump and everything shows up he’s obsessed

very touchy, waits on you hand and foot

all the members are super excited, they love sam so another enha baby to love is super exciting

achy is probably the best way to sum up your pregnancy, your back and feet hurt a lot all of the time

when you find out you’re having a girl he gets so giddy

definitely loves a good chat with the bump

goes all shy and bashful when she responds to him

i don’t imagine him being the type to sing to the baby?? i think he’s much more of a talker

never ever gets tired of her moving, can literally just picture him at night being the big spoon with his hand on your bump, his chest aches every time she kicks or moves

when she moves around on the scans you can literally see stars in his eyes

thinks you’re just the cutest when you get big, waddling around in his hoodies

keeps the latest scan photo in his wallet

your third trimester is in winter so the fireplace in your apartment is on in the evenings

lots of cuddles together

you very rarely feel insecure because jake makes it very clear just how attractive he finds you

it helps that you’re so hormonal that you’re constantly trying to jump his bones and he is… very receptive to that

the two of you decide to have a home birth, you love your apartment so much and its a place of comfort for you

also there’s no hassle or stress with transporting her home from a hospital or packing a bag etc

your labour is pretty nice, as much as it can be

you were only in labour for about 9 hours, and being at home surrounded by your familiar walls with the lights dimmed down

jake of course was incredibly supportive the whole time

ella ara sim is born 10th april at your home in seoul

jake delivered her in your bathtub, and cuts the cord

the greatest moment of his entire life

ella is a very chilled baby

feeds happily, is easily soothed

loves her daddy, jake can get her to stop crying faster than anyone

you slightly worry he holds her too much, he likes to sit by your floor to ceiling windows overlooking seoul and talk to her for hours about life and all the fun things you’ll do together when she’s older

he holds her in the early mornings in bed, on his chest or in his arms while he scrolls through his phone

these moments definitely help your relationship, when you’re both tired and drained you just sit together with or without the baby

even if you don’t talk you just have this sense that you’re in this together and you understand each other without word

Jake loves it when you’re able to pump, he loves being the one to give her bottles

ella is only the second enha baby after sam and jay is very insistent on regular playdates, he wants them to be besties so bad

they’re actually quite indifferent to each other lol

shows her off to everyone who will look

has a little silver ‘e’ necklace

when she’s about a year old she visits australia for the first time

jake fusses over her like crazy, it’s australian summer so he’s constantly smothering her with suncream and she’s got her lil bucket hat on

holds her in the pool in his family’s backyard, gently lifting her up and dunking her legs in and out of the water while she giggles like crazy

takes her to meet koalas

he loves her to be girly, thinks she’s just the cutest when she has cute little floral clothes

her giggles are his favourite sound in the whole world

purposely tickles her so that she giggles

once he tickles her for so long that she starts coughing and you get annoyed with him

doesn’t tickle her for a while after that

actually doesn’t mind playing with her, will happily sink hours into tea parties and roleplay

the BIGGEST daddy girl

her first word is dada

first steps are towards jake

jake is so fucking happy

later that night he just sobs and thanks you over and over and over for giving him his perfect baby girl

always wants to be in his arms or on his lap

jake always allows her to climb all over him and will smother her with kisses

when ella is 2 you guys finally get married, she’s one of your little bridesmaids

jake spends a lot of time dancing with her during the reception

you enjoy married life for a while, and when ella is 3, jake begins to miss her baby days

so, the two of you decide to start trying again

about 8-9 months later you’re pregnant

jake is so so excited he wants to tell el straight away but you shut him down lmao

eventually when you do tell her jake is so excited, his eyes are practically sparkling when he tells her she’s going to be a big sister

you’re pretty much bed bound and sick for the first 4-5 months, you throw up a lot

you get a lot of migraines

jake is great as usual

you and jake had talked about kids before having ella and both of you hoped for at least one of each, so when you found it it was a boy you were so happy

jake suggests his name, he just thinks its so cute

declan daehyun sim is born 1st october at your home in seoul, this time on your bed

jake also delivers him and cuts his cord

slightly more challenging baby

cries often for no real reason, no matter what you do he just cries

lots of sleepless nights

ella’s in primary school at this point so lots of daytime naps together

ella actually isn’t too jealous or anything, she comes and sits quietly next to you or jake when you’re holding declan and just watches him

she likes to hold him herself

dec is literally jake’s twin, your genes did not stand a single fucking chance

jake’s nose, jake’s eyes, jake’s mouth, jake’s hair

gets more and more clear as he grows into a toddler, everyone comments on it

i feel like jake is just as much of a boy dad as he is a girl dad like he has two sides

loves playing legos and football with dec

when dec is born you move into your ‘forever home’, a big apartment in seoul

there’s a pool in your apartment complex so you best believe most nights after dinner jake takes the kids down

when declan is around 18 months, you start throwing up and it doesn’t stop for a couple of weeks and you and jake are like… what the hell

you were on birth control that didn’t give you periods so you didn’t think it would be pregnancy but alas…

you go to the doctor and you’re 5 months pregnant and you had no idea

bit of a shock of course

you don’t know how to react at first

like dec is still so young, your birth control had clearly failed, you only had 4 months to prepare

but there obviously isn’t much you can really do other than just start gearing up for your baby’s arrival

you get a bump and some symptoms soon after you find out

pregnancy starts kicking your ass during the third trimester though, doesn’t help you’re running after declan all day

jake of course is the best like you don’t even need to say anything, if you’re having a hard day he can just tell and will do anything to alleviate your stress

like if declan is being a lil shit and you’re stressed jake will seamlessly distract him with something else

weirdly good at convincing declan he needs a nap

you decide to keep the gender a surprise because you know this will definitely be your last one and you’ve had enough surprises yk

eve sim was born at your home 8th september

born on your bed

jake delivers her and cuts the cord

you’re both ecstatic with another girl, she’s the double of ella as a baby

you don’t give her a name until she’s a couple of days old, jake starts calling her evie cause he thinks it sounds cute, you decide on eve cause it works in korean too

ella loves eve, she’s so excited to have a sister

declan is not so sure

he’s a bit jealous, especially since he’s still a little baby himself

is a little bratty about it too

you’ll sit down to feed eve and he’ll come up to you and start whining and tugging on your pants

cue jake waltzing in to distract him

i don’t think jake would be very strict

he is very much their friend and ally and they know that

hates punishments and discipline, i mean he’ll dish it out but really struggles to stay strong when they cry or get upset

will apologise for having to do it afterwards

i don’t think he would be a very pushy parent, wouldn’t be too strict about grades or extra curriculars, but will support them in whatever it is

the kids go to swimming lessons, but jake loves to help them in your pool at home, it reminds him of his childhood in Australia

definitely the type to just launch them in the air much to your horror

loves it when the kids come to see a concert, just the knowledge that the kids are in the crowd gives him a little extra energy

engene posting on twitter that jake looks so happy

everything is all about the kids backstage, if they’re there then jake and the members are smothering them in attention

if he goes on your without them he always comes back with toys

accidentally starts a tradition of buying a teddy in each place he goes

when you pick them up from school their plaits and ponytails and what have you obviously fell out hours ago

eve and ruby are a few months apart in age so they are besties of course

jake would absolutely say the worst part of being a father is the kids growing up, when they get too big for him to hold and cuddle properly is when his heart hurts when he looks at them

he loves babies so much and always always misses the baby days but seeing his kids grow into independent, strong willed, talented individuals makes him so proud

they’re always his baby girls/boy

even when they’re older he will still give them cuddles when they’re sad

the kids go to australia maybe once a year or every other year, visit jake’s family

but you settle in a big apartment in seoul

kids speak a mix of english and korean at home, there’s no real pattern to it

they speak english amongst each other but i think with jake they mix it up

they also use mainly english names at home, you and jake like them more

they use korean and korean names pretty much anywhere outside the house

although ella does get called el by the members and jake pretty much at all times

overall the sim family is so so so full of love <3

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lqfiles · 1 year ago

Text

PAY THE PRICE — 36. an overwhelming realisation

(wc: 2.601 but its worth it TRUST ME..)

it was only around 17:30 when karina, minjeong and you had finally made it back to your apartment complex. even though you initially didn’t plan on purchasing anything, you had returned back bags full of clothing and whatnot as the two had decided to shower you with birthday gifts. of course you had protested, they just didn’t care.

“my legs feel so sore.” you humoured in slight pain, leaning against the the wall of the elevator. “at least we had fun, right?” and minjeong was right. you responded back with a small smile and nod, changing your view to karina who was stuck on her phone. “who are you texting?” you questioned. karina hummed in response, looking up before pushing her phone into her pocket. “no one.” she casually answered back.

with sudden movement, karina had reached forward and tugged the shopping bags out your hands, leaving you barely any time to register it. “i’ll bring these to your room, minjeong has a present for you in her room so you should get off on the third floor with her.” karina suggested, reaching back to grab your purse too. the elevator’s door had opened, leaving you not much choice as karina urged the two of you out before pressing the close button.

you watched the lift go up to the fourth floor and turned to minjeong with a dumbfounded stare. “what was that about?” you mused with a slight laugh. minjeong smiled back at you, nodding her head down the corridor of the third floor. “lets go.” you wondered what both their issues were as minjeong was already walking ahead of you without any other words following.

instead of words, it was you that was following her and you couldn’t help but think there was something off about the silence minjeong remained in. you two reached her door and she turned back to look at you. “i forgot my keys at jaemin’s place, can you get them for me?” she requested with a slight plea, already holding you by the shoulders and pushing you towards jaemin’s door.

again, you were left with no other choice but to comply. jaemin’s room was right next to hers anyways, and you questioned why in the world she couldn’t get it herself. you knocked on his door, and the sound of muffled voices infiltrated your hearing before it went quiet. ‘come in’ was all you heard after, the voice being nothing like jaemin’s distinguishing one. you hesitated, but eventually opened the door to enter jaemin’s dimly lit apartment.

it took you by surprise, the way the dark room had lit up and a chorus of cheers erupted as you entered. your eyes scanned the whole room that had been filled by your 3rd and 4th floor neighbours, all carrying a variant of party decorations. you were even more surprised to see mark and rei, both of them pulling you into the room. “happy birthday (—)!” rei cheered, dragging you to the middle of jaemin’s living room.

at a loss for words, you just gaped at your surroundings, a warmth swelling in your chest. “this wasn’t needed.” you shied away, too embarrassed by all the sudden attention on you. mark, who had found a spot right next to you, threw his arm around your shoulder. “of course this is needed, i’m glad jaemin didn’t listen to your words.” you hadn’t even noticed him slyly slipping a party hat on your head, because something else caught your attention.

“jaemin? this was his idea?” majority confirmed your question, and mark added that ‘both jaemin and karina planned this, they really put effort into it.’ and the surge of emotions you felt as you saw jaemin exit his kitchen with a cake in his grip were enough to almost bring you to tears. he had placed the cake down on the coffee table, carrying a small grin on his face as well as a party hat of his own. his eyes locked with yours a few seconds later.

“(—)! i know you said that you didn’t wanna do anything for your birthday, but i thought it would be nice to spend your first birthday in this apartment with everyone else.. i even invited mark and rei!” jaemin rambled. “i hope you don’t mind.. i also didn’t have time to bake the cake myself so i hope you don’t mind cake from the-”

jaemin almost toppled over from the force you attacked him with. you hugged him with the biggest smile you’ve ever had, almost choking him in the process. “this is so sweet of you jaemin, both you and karina are the best.” you took a step back, placing a hand over your stupidly huge smile. feeling the arms of someone else around your shoulder, you were met with karina who planted a chaste kiss on your cheek. “happy birthday (—), i hope you’re happy today.” it was rare that you’d see karina smile so big, but the smile on her face as she squished you into her for a hug was something you wish you’d see more often.

it was enough to finally bring you tears.

you could hear both mark and who you assumed to be jungwoo, laughing. “no way you’re actually crying.” mark asked in disbelief, though the comforting feeling of his hand rubbing up and down your back showed that it was nothing more than a friendly tease. you really couldn’t help it, and as you pulled away from karina with your eyes filled with tears, you wondered what you had done to gain such friends who’d go out of their way to plan a surprise party for you.

“you’re going to make me cry too.” rei sulked, an endearing smile on her face as she hugged you from the side. jaemin agreed, and if you looked closer, you could see the way his eyes had threatened to gloss a little. he had walked over to you, wrapping his arm around you. “i’m glad you like it, once again happy birthday! and i’m sorry for all the trouble i’ve caused you but i’m glad you’re still sticking with me despite all that.” jaemin also wore an endearing smile on his face.

“this is getting sappy.” jisung cringed from across the room. haewon pushed him aside in return, kissing her teeth at his remark. “let them have their little sentimental moment before we celebrate her birthday.” she muttered warningly. “happy birthday (—)!” isa exclaimed, and a chain reaction of birthday wishes from the rest soon followed after.

“lets cut the cake now.” mark announced right after, already reaching down to the coffee table. jaemin had left your side and rushed to the kitchen to get the utensils as well as paper boards. it gave you time to take a look at the room, it was decorated nicely and everyone was seemingly enjoying their time as they conversed over the soft music playing in the background.

it was too perfect to be to true, though something felt missing. someone was definitely missing.

“we invited him but he said he had other plans, don’t think too much about it.” as if she could read your mind, rei who was still beside you reassured you with a rub to your shoulder. your head turned to her, surprised that she could tell that you were specifically looking for him. you nodded in acceptance. she was right, after all, today was about you, donghyuck shouldn’t be a thought when you were surrounded by all the people you loved.

but it wasn’t that easy, and every now and then, your mind would wander to donghyuck’s whereabouts, as well as his words. he said he would remember your birthday, and all you could wonder for the remainder of the night was how much truth those words really held.

“so i just knock on her door and give her this and the letter?” jaehyun repeated in confirmation, and donghyuck nodded. “just wish her a happy birthday. you can improvise the rest.” donghyuck instructed while he stood in front of jaehyun, grabbing onto his hand before sliding an envelope into it. “tell her to not read it until you’re gone.”

“and do you want me to tell her this is your doing?” jaehyun asked as he started to step towards the door. donghyuck thought about it for a while, before shrugging. “only if she asks.” the response made jaehyun laugh, who’s hand was now on the door handle. “she’s not gonna believe her eyes.” donghyuck claimed with a grin, checking the time on his phone. “i think she came back upstairs like twenty minutes ago, you can go now.” haechan walked over towards jaehyun before patting him on the back. it was their last interaction before jaehyun exited the door and turned to stand right in front of yours.

in those twenty minutes in your room, you had time to come down from the high you were on. you had checked your phone to see if donghyuck had texted you anything, the time already nearing 11 pm, but there was nothing, and you’re not sure if you expected it or are disappointed because you didn’t.

a knock on your door was what broke your train of thoughts, and your first thought was that it must be one of your neighbours. your second thought was unfortunately donghyuck, and it was probably that assumption that made you rush to your front door, heart beating in what you sadly can only assume was excitement.

it wasn’t donghyuck, though you wished it was him even more now. you could feel your stomach drop as you stood face to face with none other than jaehyun himself, the guy carrying a soft smile which displayed his dimples. your heart went from not beating at all, to beating erratically, your breath being anything but regular. were you perhaps dreaming? “you’re (—) right?”

so you were not dreaming. the realisation caused panic to form in your body, your eyes widened in the process. “you’re kidding me..” you muttered. jaehyun found it quite humorous and chuckled at your state. “i heard a lot of nice things about you from mark. its nice to finally meet you.” jaehyun’s words caused your breath to hitch. there was no way jaehyun was right in front of you.

“i’m dreaming right?” you whispered in disbelief which made jaehyun smile. “haechan guessed that you’d say something like that. since it’s your birthday, i’m here with a signed EP, as well as a special envelope that you can only open once you’re inside. i hope you enjoyed your birthday and i hope mark or haechan bring you with them to my next concert, you seem like a sweet person. it was nice meeting you (—).”

it was truly too much to comprehend. you knew that the possibility of meeting jaehyun wasn’t slim due to your connection with both mark and donghyuck, but with their persistent refusals, it was merely a wish, not something you actually expected to become reality. and as jaehyun’s words sunk in, the mention of donghyuck’s name finally caught onto your ears, a subconscious smile forming in your face from it.

“thank you so much.. seriously.” you sheepishly thanked him and jaehyun nodded, taking a step back before his hand motioned into a small wave. “its nothing, i hope you enjoy the rest of your night, happy birthday.” jaehyun bid his farewells before he turned around, leaving you inside your apartment, still not grasping the unreal experience.

you closed the door to your apartment and looked down and the items in your hands. you placed the EP carefully down before opening the envelope. the whole day was full of surprises and you were once again filled with surprise as you pulled out a small paper sheet, containing a hand written letter. the hand writing reminded you of a familiar one that you had seen before. your eyes raked over the words that donghyuck had written to you, a stupid grin stuck on your face as you did so. you weren’t even aware of how hot your body had started to feel, or how your stomach had started to tingle at the stupid words he wrote.

your feet carried you on its own and you exited your apartment with urgent steps. your hand had reached up to knock on donghyuck’s door, and as if he could sense your presence, it had opened after the second knock.

you remember the first time you met donghyuck. he wore a simple white shirt and black shorts as well as his black framed glasses, sporting copper brown hair as he opened the door for you. you remember the resentment you felt when despite his good looks, he was an asshole to you at that time.

now, stood in front of you with the same identical attire he wore that night, you felt nothing but butterflies growing in your stomach as donghyuck looked at you with a smile you could only describe as fondness. “happy birthday sweetheart, did you like my present?” you couldn’t even be annoyed at the teasing tone in his voice, or the use of that nickname you had started to grow fond of.

all you could do was lean forward and wrap your arms around him without any warning. donghyuck stumbled back, taken aback by the sudden affection but quickly reciprocated by wrapping his own arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. and if your heart wasn’t beating like crazy itself, you’d be able to feel the way donghyuck’s heartbeat matched yours perfectly.

“what’s this about?” donghyuck chuckled, remaining his hold on you. you removed yourself from the crook of his neck and took a step back, though donghyuck’s arms remained around your waist to keep you close. you had to physically hold your smile back, not wanting to go overboard. “thank you… that was really nice of you.” you whispered, too scared that your emotions would be overwhelming if you spoke any louder.

donghyuck shrugged, looking at you in amusement. “its nothing. you said you wanted to meet him so here we are.” it felt like the more he spoke, the more your body tingled and heated up. you didn’t even know how to respond back to what he said, which allowed him to continue his words. “now that you met him, does that mean you’ll finally get over this crush you have on him?”

his words were meant to be a joke, simply referencing your previous conversation. but as you continued to stare at him, taking in just how… beautiful he looked up close like this as well as the way your heart wouldn’t stop beating, there was already an answer going through your head.

you think you already have.

your brain wasn’t in the right place, and your body moved before your thoughts did. you leaned closer to him and without much thought, placed your lips on donghyuck’s. it was nothing more than a peck because your mind had registered what you had done. you’re not quite sure why you did it, maybe it was because of the overwhelming excitement you felt, or the gratitude you had, or maybe it was the fact that he had been eyeing your lips for the past five seconds leading up to that.

your excuses didn’t matter, because just as you pulled away, donghyuck pulled you right back in himself, kissing you in the halls of the 4th floor with his hand on your jaw, so soft and delicate that you thought you were dreaming.

you had definitely gotten over jaehyun.

bonus! (haechan’s love letter draft)

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notes ; happy late mark day 🥳🎊 as celebration we got… ynhae realising their feelings after 36 chapters? POP THE CHAMPAGNE AND FIRE THE FIREWORKS 🔥🎉🥳🎊🍾

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