#Buy fun team games for kids

[meownotgood]

au where I help aki heal his inner child by forcing him to play all of the games I hyperfixated on in my youth

[sometimesanalice]

Bedside Manner

Summary: You were expecting the perfect summer afternoon with the Daggers, but when a game of dogfight football takes a turn for the worse, you’re left with a bleeding head and an aching heart. And it’s up to Bradley to show you his bedside manner.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: A little angst, a little pining, and two idiots in love.

It’s a perfect summer afternoon. Well, almost.

The sun is high in the sky and the steady salt kissed ocean breeze keeps it from being too uncomfortably hot. The coolers are filled with beers and sodas and a few pink cans of rosé that Coyote had brought. And the beach blankets were littered with open half-eaten family sized bags of chips and cubes of bright pink watermelon and containers of various dips and ziplocs with sun warmed and mostly melted chocolate chip cookies.

“You guys, really, I’m fine,” you state as adamantly as you can given the circumstances.

Sure, you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your throbbing, bleeding head. Sure, you are a little afraid to put your full weight on your left ankle and already dreading the long walk back to your car.

But it’s fine, you’re fine. Everything is…peachy. Or it will be as soon as they all stop looking at you like you’re about to crumple to the ground like some 1920’s silent film starlet from on the silver screen.

Nat has that deep pinch between her sharp brown eyes. Jake’s lips are pressed together in a firm white line. The rest of the team stands hovering around you in a misshapen semicircle, all sandy and sweaty, and wearing the concern painted across their faces.

All except for Rooster, who can’t seem to look at you at all.

“Clearly, you’re not,” Phoenix says flatly, clearly unamused by your attempts to minimize the situation. And you wish that just this once she could have let this go and follow your lead. But then she wouldn’t be Natasha Trace.

Your best friend since middle school had always been the most capable and sharpest person in the room and you loved that about her.

Normally.

But not so much when her keen assessment of you keeps you from being able to slink away quietly without fuss. 

“No, seriously. It’s just a little scratch. It’s not a big deal.” It sounds feeble even to your own ears. Trying to hold back a wince when the way you shake your head makes starbursts bloom behind your eyes.

You could have dealt with the pounding in your head if it weren’t for the relentless burning of your ankle that was only making things worse. One or the other would have been easier to manage, but both vying for your attention as the pain pulses with every heartbeat was miserable.

The sun was too hot, the kids frolicking the ocean were too loud, the sunscreen on your skin felt too greasy. All you wanted was a shower and your bed and to forget this whole day even happened.

You look around the group trying to gauge how successful your efforts are, but it’s clear that no one seems to be buying your brand of poorly performed bullshit. You wanted to crawl into yourself like a hermit crab, protected by your own shell, as six pairs of eyes all looked on at you sympathetically, while the pretty brown ones you wanted to see the most were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and trained down at the ground.

It was supposed to be a fun day.

You’d woken up that morning absolutely giddy about trading spreadsheets for sand and sunburns and sea salt tangled hair. Your cheery, new swimsuit already laid out and waiting for you from the night before.

There was something thrilling about hooky on a Friday with all of your favorite people that made you feel all kinds of young and free. Well, hooky for you. They’d been given the day off after a month of intensive training and testing of some new defensive software. They all deserved the break and you were more than happy to tag along.

You were always the good kid in school, never skipping, never missing a class. You’d felt like a rebellious teen as you crafted your ‘out of office’ email, a smug grin on your face like you were getting away with something. Even though you’d earned the right to use that PTO whichever way you wanted.

The anticipation of a snow day from your childhood school days had nothing on the intoxicating promise of a beach day on a golden summer Friday.

The team must have felt the same way too because the group chat the night before had been chaotically amusing. The excitement was palpable enough that you’d almost think you all lived in some landlocked state rather than San Diego, where it felt like all roads led to the beach whether you wanted them to or not.

Somewhere between the string of all capitalized sentences and exclamation points with a few well-chosen emojis scattered throughout, Natasha had managed to wrangle everyone in enough into sorting out who was responsible for bringing what. There wouldn’t be another veggie platter incident, not on her watch.

You’d felt bright and effervescent as you’d pulled into the parking lot, your eyes reflexively seeking out a blue Bronco that hadn’t arrived yet. With a beach chair over one shoulder and a beach bag over the other and a packed cooler bag in your hand, you’d made towards the multicolored sprawl of blankets and the striped peaks of the umbrellas, where you were met with the smiling faces of shiny happy people.

Some of the boys had rushed over to help you carry your things and added your offerings to the communal pile of snacks and sunscreen and bottles of water. It had been easy to fall into conversation with everyone as you set up your own little patch of paradise and shimmied out of your frayed cut-offs. Natasha had given you a wolf whistle and you’d laughed as you give her the finger.

And hour and a half later with an easy grin on his face, carrying a case of beer and two big Ziploc bags stuffed with what you learned later were homemade cookies balanced on top, was Rooster.

You’ve had plenty of beach days with them but every time you saw him in those damn denim shorts he always seemed determined to wear, regardless of how impractical they were, your mind still went a little fizzy as you took in just how well they clung to his thighs.

He’d taken the ribbing from his squad in stride as he unboxed the beers and added them to the collection already chilling in Bob’s bright yellow cooler. You were trying- and failing- to read your worn paperback book when he’d surprised you by plopping his things next to yours on your oversized towel and stole a chunk of juicy watermelon off of the plate balanced on your lap.

“Hey, book worm,” he grinned as he popped it into his mouth, “How’s my favorite girl doing?” That smile of his getting bigger when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Hi, Rooster,” you’d said looking at him from over the top of your sunglasses with an amused smirk.

And if your cheeks felt warm, it was from the sun and not the teasing tone of his raspy voice.

When he’d shrugged off his shirt to apply the sunscreen you’d brought with him in mind, the wink he’d shot you went straight to your head like champagne. The sun highlighting his impressive abs and sculpted shoulders didn’t help either as he took great efforts to cover his chest and stomach with the lotion. He had to be doing it on purpose, because he’d kept rubbing it in well past when the white hue faded. But who were you to complain? Melanoma was no joke.

“You wanna help me out?” he’d asked turning his back to you, looking over his shoulder. You’re pretty sure that he’d been flexing because he’d looked impossibly broad, every defined muscle standing out for eyes to map out and explore.

You’d been at war with yourself, because while your eager hands were desperate to touch him, you also knew that once you ran your hands along his solid frame that you’d never want to stop. That you wouldn’t be content until your fingertips had traced every inch of him.

You had been blessedly and devastatingly spared the choice.

“I got you, Rooster. My hands are already all sunscreen-y,” chimed in Bob, who had just finished rubbing his own freshly applied layer. “Wouldn’t want it to get on her book.”

You were only half relieved to be off the hook, while Bradley on the other hand was still looking at you expectantly, almost hopefully, still with the white and yellow bottle of sunscreen partly extended towards you.

“That’s so sweet of you, Bob-” you’d started.

“Yeah, so sweet-” Bradley grumbled under his breath.

“I appreciate you sparing my pages the sunscreen grease,” you’d said shooting Bob a smile, choosing to ignore Bradley’s comment completely. “Plus, your hands are bigger than mine. You’ll have him covered in no time.”  

Bradley looked between you and Bob before he passed the bottle to the other man, shaking his head a little in defeat. You’d giggled to yourself as you wiggled your book at an openly brooding Bradley, and then leaned back on your elbows to observe the way the attentive WSO made sure to carefully and thoroughly cover Bradley’s entire back.

Respectfully, of course.

Behind your sunglasses you’d admired all of Bradley’s bulk compared to Bob’s lithe grace. But in your defense, they were standing right in front of you and you’d already reread your book at least five times in the past, so it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the scene in front of you had been.

“You look awfully comfortable over there,” Rooster called out with a raised eyebrow.

“Just taking in the view,” you’d teased back.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” he huffed as Bob finished up, giving him a thanks, man before tossing you back the bottle of sunscreen. He’d nudged his sunglasses down his nose and pinned you with his gaze, “Let me know if you want me to get your back. My hands are just as capable as his.” Even in the high heat of summer, the way he’d looked at you sent chills running along your arms.

You felt the way his keen eyes traveled from your face, down the deep-v of your swimsuit and along the swells of your breasts, and down your legs to your freshly painted toes. His mouth had ticked up in the corner then left you reeling and your heart pounding away in your chest as he’d strut off to go join Fanboy and Coyote by the mountain of snacks.

And that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. You never knew if he was just flirt-y or flirt-ing.

You hadn’t had a crush in ages, but when Nat had introduced you to her team five months ago, the man with the sunkissed curls and surprisingly attractive mustache had immediately caught your eye.

And as you’d gotten to know him, it had only gotten worse.

Not only was he very nice to look at and could make you laugh until your sides ached, but he also he had depth about him in a way that most men your age didn’t. You liked talking to him and listening to his stories. You liked learning his perspective on things. You liked being around him.

He made you feel interesting and special and funny and seen. You’ve never felt as comfortable in your own skin as you did when you were around him.

Rooster would send you flirty winks, give you less than subtle once overs, and could flash you such devastating slow grins that they’d have you trying to catch the butterflies they released in your stomach for hours after you went home.

But he’s never made a move.

If only he wouldn’t play hide and seek with his true intentions.

You felt like you were still waiting on some small clue whether he was serious or not. You didn’t know if he was just having fun with you or if he was into you and it was more than just friendly banter. It would be so much easier if he’d straight up tell you one way or another.

Needless to say, you’d let Nat be the one to help you with your sunscreen a little bit later. The idea of Bradley’s big hands on you, gliding along your sun-warmed skin and under the crisscross straps of your swimsuit, was too much for your hummingbird heart.

The sun climbed higher into the sky as the butter yellow midmorning transformed into a Midas-touched golden afternoon.

The squad had been able to reserve a fire pit and the plan had been to stay until the sunset. An endless summer day stretching out before them like a cat. They had nothing but time.

Clusters of people came together and split apart like a kaleidoscope as some went to take a dip in the ocean or raid the cooler and snack spread or go for a walk along the shore. Changing and shifting with the direction of the wind, going where the mood took them.

And for a peaceful moment, it had been you with your book and a napping Bradley sprawled out next to you on your towel with his arm flung over his eyes. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, almost but not quite touching. The sound of his soft breaths and the waves their own kind of lullaby as you contentedly read your book, turning your pages quietly to not disturb the man next to you, as the droplets of the Pacific dried on your skin.  

You still don’t know how you got roped into playing a round of dogfight football with the Navy’s best and brightest. You were more of a corn hole or ladder toss kind of girl, but Coyote had all but thrown you over his shoulder and dragged you out before you’d agreed to participate, conceding your defeat.

You were on a team with Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy against Nat, Rooster, Payback, and Bob. A few plays in and you had been getting the hang of it. They’d all been making sure to take care to go easy on you even in the chaos of two teams playing offensively and defensively at the same time. You were more than a little out of breath, but you were having fun.

Before the next snap, Mickey gave the most impassioned pep talk you’d ever heard, “Fuck luck, we don’t need luck. We gotta fucking win.” You had been about to laugh, but then you’d seen the looks on Jake and Javy’s faces and decided against it. Curious about the other team, you’d glanced over only to see Rooster looking back at you.

The calls had been made, the blur of plays in motion as people whirled and dodged and sprinted.

You’d just lobbed the ball to Javy before darting around Nat when a big, solid body collided with you. Hard. You’d felt the twinge of your ankle twisting in the sand right before the force sent you flying in the opposite direction you’d been headed.

The impact had been jarring. The air knocked from your lungs.

Where you should have been met with a mouthful of gritty sand, instead your head had connected with the rough surface of a partially buried rock. The low, thick thud reverberating throughout your whole body.

You’d been so stunned that you didn’t even register you were even on the ground until you heard the chorus of oh fucks and holy shits and goddamns and jesus christs over the ringing in your ears.

The game coming to an immediate and conclusive end.

For how many empty bottles and cans were sitting collected in a trash bag off to the side of your beach set up, they had been surprisingly quick to act as you blinked blankly, trying to clear the spots from your vision.

It was a silent ballet of efficiency as they instinctively fell into their roles, much like you imagined they did the sky. Everyone stepping up and then stepping back as they did their part, like the ebb and flow of waves.

Nat had carefully poured some fresh water from a bottle on your face to remove the sand that clung to the sweat and sunscreen on your skin. Then Jake had wordlessly passed her his clean spare shirt he’d jogged of to get to help stop the bleeding after Javy checked on your pupils to make sure they were the same size. While Bob stood off to the side holding your warped sunglasses in his hands, as if he was hopeful they could still be salvaged. Mickey and Reuben had been waiting in the wings giving you space, ready to help if they were needed, but not wanting to not crowd in.

And from the corner of your eye, you’d caught Rooster standing a couple feet away with his hands in his hair looking absolutely wrecked.

“Bradley?” you’d tried, even though his name stuck to your teeth. But he’d just shook his head at you before turning away slightly, like he couldn’t look at you, which made your heart sting as well.

They only allowed you to move to sit up after they were content with the answer to their questions- What day is it? Friday. Where are you? San Diego. What else hurts? My ankle and my pride.

It wasn’t until someone hauled you up from underneath your armpits that the throbbing and stinging and aching settled over you. The pain seeping and spreading through muscle and bone like an inky oil spill.

It’s still an almost perfect summer afternoon except for the fact you hate everything about this.

You hate the way they’re gathered around you with too many pairs of assessing eyes pinned on you. You hate that you’re the reason the game of dogfight football came to a definitive and abrupt end. You hate that you’re the reason their carefree and fun afternoon off has turned into this.

There’s a pressure building behind your eyes, the hot tears of hurt and frustration and embarrassment are clamoring to be released. You have to bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

And it doesn’t help that you’re the type who’d rather lick your wounds in peace.

You just need to get back to your car and you can figure things out on your own from there. You just need a moment to yourself.

As you open your mouth to argue your case again, Jake puts his hand up and stops you before you’ve even had a chance to start, “I hate to break it to you, sugar, but you’re not fooling any of us.” He says it gently, but gives you a pointed look at the way you’re leaning heavily on your right leg to keep the pressure off of your left ankle.

“That head wound is not a little scratch. Just like your ankle isn’t just a little puffy, when it’s twice the size it should be. You need to go to the Emergency Room,” Nat says, final and resolute. A lifetime of friendship has taught you not to argue when she has that look in her eyes, the one that says try me, I dare you.

They all talk over you as they figure out who is the most sober of the group after your suggestion to call yourself an Uber is immediately shot down. Drinks are being counted on fingers, and memories are searched to make sure every sip and bottle and can is accounted for.

Your eyes drift over to the man who is still actively avoiding looking at you, even as he talks to everyone else on the team. You aren’t paying too close attention to what he is saying, but you can hear the short, clipped staccato of his words.

Bradley’s shoulders are tinged a little pink even though you know for a fact that you had purposely passed him the 65 SPF. His eyes are hidden behind his dark green tinted sunglasses, but you don’t need to see them when you can read his body language better than any book.

His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, the tendons in his forearms flexing and shifting, like he is squeezing and releasing his fists from where they’re tucked under his biceps. Everything in his body looks coiled tight and strained, so at odds with the easy going and loose-limbed man you know him to be.

You don’t realize just how much you’ve zoned out until Natasha has to say your name a couple time before you pull your gaze away from Bradley and back to her.

“Ok, it’s settled,” Nat informs you, “Rooster’s going to take you.” You barely nod your head in acknowledgement when she tells you, because it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach now too.

“It’s the least he can do,” Jake drawls.

“That’s not fair-” you start, defensively.

“Fuck off, Bagman-” Rooster snaps.

The rage in his voice shocks you, you’ve never heard that much heat from him before. There’s none of the teasing tone that usually underscores their banter. Jake puts both of his hands up placatingly like my bad, folks and Javy just shakes his head and sighs.

And this time when you look at Bradley, he is finally looking back at you with a deep furrow in his brow. His jaw is clenched tight, that muscle ticking and jumping, as he takes in the way you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your forehead.

Not exactly the way you’d hoped he’d be looking at you when you put on your new blue and white striped swimsuit this morning.

The one you’d bought because you wanted to make him look.

Just not like this.

With everything sorted the rest of the team trickles away a smattering of take cares and get better soons and let us know if you need anythings. But not before Mickey hands Rooster his stuff and passes Nat your bag and sandals. He gives you the gentlest of squeezes on your shoulder before he leaves to join everyone else back on little part of the beach you all had claimed before things went to shit.

Your group of eight now downsized to a trio.

Bradley is quick to roughly pull on his tank and shirt, and Nat fishes out your car keys from your bag as she waits for him to slip his shoes on. When he’s ready she passes it to him and he silently slides it over his arm.

Nat bends down to help gingerly glide your feet into your sandals, “I’ll grab the rest your things and drop them off at your place and then one of the boys will drop off your car later. We’ve got it all covered, ok?”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say quietly, trying to hold back a wince as she slips the left one on, your ankle pulsing in tempo with your heartbeat.

“Best friends don’t say thank you, they just do,” she says matter-of-factly as she stands. It’s the same thing you’d told her after you’d dumped a carton of strawberry milk on Carly Radke for outing Natasha your freshman year in high school. It was only time you’d ever gotten detention, but it had been worth it.

“They just do,” you repeat with a small smile.

You’re so grateful that your friendship with her is one that has spanned years. That you’ve been able seen one another grow and change and come into their own, but that you haven’t outgrown each other. She’s the person you want by your side and having your back. There is no one quite like Natasha Trace.

She turns to Bradley and you watch him stand a little taller under her sharp eyes, your straw tote still dangling from his forearm.

“You good?” Nat asks him with a look in her eye that you can’t place. And you’re reminded that even though she’s your best friend, that he has also earned a spot as one of her closest friends. Their relationship built over years and experiences that you could never fully understand. Different, but just as deep.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her. I’ll take care of her,” Rooster promises with a stiff nod, as he gives her his word. It might have made your heart beat a little faster if you didn’t feel like such a burden. That it’s simply a twist of fate and three less drinks than everyone else for the reason that he’s the one to look after you. That he’s the one stuck with you.

“I know you will,” she says softer now, patting his shoulder, “Keep me posted.” Nat presses a kiss to your cheek and gives you an encouraging smile then heads off to go rejoin everyone else.

You watch her go with longing. The cheerful beach set up with its colorful blankets and umbrellas looks more like a desert mirage now. The sweet coconut scented potential of what the day could have been now forever out of reach.

And then it’s just you and Bradley and the sound of the waves and cries of seagulls.

The two of you silent and motionless.

You feel one wrong move and the fragile attempt of the stiff upper lip you’ve cocooned yourself in will crack open and all the soft parts of you will seep out into the sand beneath your feet.

His expression is shuttered closed as he bends a bit like he is going to pick you up.

“Woah, buddy, what are you doing?” You’re squinting into the sun as you look at him. You’d step into his shadow to block it, since you’re now in need of a new pair of sunglasses, but that would mean moving to the left which isn’t an option with your ankle.

“Buddy,” he grunts under his breath, slipping off his sunglasses and carefully putting them on your face, being mindful of stinging scrapes and wad of soft cotton you’re holding to your head. “They’re definitely going to have to run concussion protocol on you,” he mutters more to himself than to you, “I’m taking you to the Bronco and then we’re going the ER, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, Rooster,” you grit out, even rolling your eyes hurts, “But I don’t need you to carry me.”

Everything about this was excruciating and embarrassing enough without him being the Clark Gable to your Vivian Leigh. Maybe you could lean on him and hop over to his car? Like a six-foot-one pair of crutches with good hair.

“Take a step without wincing and I’ll think about it,” he says firmly, pointedly calling your bluff. There’s an expectant look of go on then, whenever you’re ready on his face. Because he knows he’s right, and you do too.

You don’t even bother to make a move, but the way your lower lips wobbles speaks volumes.

“That’s what I thought,” he says quietly, almost like pains him to be right.

He bends a little to hook his arms around your knees and back to lift you up, and this time you let him. Your free arm automatically wrapping around the back of his neck. And he starts off towards the winking windshields of the parking lot.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to be wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, how good it would feel to be pressed closed against him. And now you are and it’s nothing like you’ve imagined, because there isn’t anything sweet or swoon-worthy about how you ended up in them. You’re his duty, you’re not his desire.

All your sandcastle hopes have been washed away by the tide.

You’re so frustrated. You’re frustrated by the day, by yourself, by him.

This time you can’t blink back the tears that well up in your eyes. They flood through your tear ducts carving hot trails down your sun-tinged cheeks.

You want the Bradley from earlier. 

The one who stole your watermelon with warmth in his eyes.

The one who dozed next to you in the sun like a cat, his features soft free of the tension he now holds in his shoulders.

You want your Bradley.

The one who’d whispered cheeky comments in your ear whenever the team got into lighthearted tequila fueled arguments about things like whether a hot dog was a sandwich.

The one who’d always go up to the bar with you on busy nights at the Hard Deck and make sure you didn’t get bumped into on the way back to your friends with your freshly refilled drinks.

You’re aching, aching. Everywhere.

For a brief moment, as you swipe at your tears, you’re happy for the throbbing in your head and ankle, so that way you don’t have to think about the stinging in your heart.

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting,” Rooster says gentle and low as you sniffle, but you can hear the thickness of the words in his throat. The term of endearment is the sweetest of nothings, making your tears come faster. Where it should ease the heartache, all it does is make you angry at yourself for giving your emotions away. “We’re almost to the Bronco. It’s ok, we’re gonna get you taken care of, I promise.”

We.

You wanted that with him.

You want to press both of your hands to his cheeks to make him look you in the eyes to ask him is it going to be you and me together?  You’ve been a fool for love before, but you didn’t know if could take another hit-and-run with your heart.

The salt of your tears makes your cheeks feel tight and itchy as the summer breeze dries them on your skin.

Bradley carries you like you weigh nothing, but cradles you like you’re the most precious things he’s ever held. He’s mindful of any dips in the sand and gives wide berth around the college kids playing volleyball close to the entry back to the parking lot.

When he reaches the Bronco, he sets you down gently, making sure both of your feet are planted on the asphalt before letting go of you to unlock his car. He tells you to wait a moment when you move to open the passenger side door.

“I never know when I might get called up for an emergency deployment, so I like to have some extra clothes just in case,” he explains as he digs around in the backseat, pulling out a pair of gray athletic shorts.

“Oh.” And you realize you’re still just clad in your striped swimsuit. “Thank you for sparing me from the hospital germs,” you say lightly, an attempt at a joke to break the ice. One that doesn’t land, since instead of cracking a grin he just presses his lips together in a firm line and nods.

Bradley crouches low in front of you and you put a hand on his shoulder for balance as you lean against the Bronco, still trying to keep as much pressure off your left ankle as possible as you step into them. He’s looking up at you and even through his sunglasses perched on your nose, you swear his brown eyes get a shade darker as he eases the shorts up your legs. You’re touched by the effort as he ties the strings in a lopsided bow, even if things are feeling tense between the two of you.

“Think this’ll be easier,” he mumbles shrugging off his light blue button up. You’ve always liked this one, with its soft pastel pink and minty green watercolor prints of net fishermen and hula girls and palm trees.

He holds it open for you, helping you thread your arm through it, and then takes over holding Jake’s now ruined shirt to your head so that you can get your other arm past the sleeve. It smells like him, citrus and amber. Your fingers brush against each other when you reclaim the makeshift bandage, and he adjusts his shirt so that it hangs over your shoulders just right.

It’s an awkward kind silent as Rooster helps lift you into the Bronco with his strong hands around your hips. He is all smooth efficiency as he buckles you in with a click. You pass him back his sunglasses the same moment he hands you your tote bag, and it almost feels like a hostage exchange.

He says nothing as he hauls himself into the driver’s side. The car rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition and a cheery song from the 80’s station on the radio comes on. Bradley quick to turn the volume down low. His thumb brushing your shoulder as he sets his hand on the back of your seat to look behind him as he carefully backs out of the spot.

It’s never felt this strained with him before.

It’s so painfully obvious that the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. You can almost feel the wall that’s gone up around him. The white noise of the radio drowned out by the hum of the road as he drives in near silence.

Your day has been most effectively ruined by a chunk of sedimentary rock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still recoup what’s left of it.

He could still have the perfect summer afternoon.

He could still go back to your friends and their perfect beach set up and laugh with them as Coyote keeps accidentally setting marshmallows on fire. He could still catch the bold oranges and soft pinks of the sunset with all the satisfied contentment he deserved to experience.

“You can leave me and go back, you know. I’ll be ok if you just want drop me off and then head back to the beach,” you say looking down at your fingers as you trace the stitching of his leather seats.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you glance over at him. The vein in his neck is standing out boldly against the column of his throat.

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who would leave someone at the ER alone?” he asks, his voice rougher than sandpaper.

“No. No, of course not,” you say emphatically, “That’s why I’m giving you permission.”

“Permission?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

“Yes, permission,” you say, clipped.

You’re giving him an out, why doesn’t he get that?

He heaves a big sigh and grunts. “Is it… Would you rather have Bob- with his big hands- here instead?” Bradley asks, frustration leaking out around the edges of his words.

“Bob with his big hands?” you repeat baffled, “What does Bob have to do with anything about this?”

“That’s what you said earlier, sweetheart. I’m just citing the source. Or I can call Phoenix? Or…” he pauses glancing at the t-shirt pressed to your head, “Or even Seresin. Once we get you checked in I can call any of them an Uber or something, and they can be there with you, if you don’t want me.”

“No, Rooster, I don’t want anyone else.” You wince at the implication and hope it doesn’t read into it further than the current situation to two of you are wading through like quick sand.

“Ok, good,” he grumbles.

“Great,” you lob back.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white, “Then where is this even coming from?” The action makes his thick forearm flex in this most delicious of ways that you’d appreciate more if you didn’t feel the anger simmering low in your stomach.

“It’s pretty damn clear that you’d rather be back there, Rooster. Or literally anywhere else right now.” You flip down the sun visor with more force than it deserves, regretting that you gave him his sunglasses back when the bright California sun in your eyes turns your headache into a full-blown migraine.

“Of course, I’d rather be anywhere else!” he says hotly, tossing his sunglasses back in your lap, “Do you think I like that you’re hurt and that we’re on our way to the hospital?” You shove them on your face with an angry huff.

A car speeds by blaring their horn as they pass by.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” he grunts but speed of the Bronco doesn’t change, “Asshole.”

Bradley’s driving five miles under the posted limit, and you know for a fact he religiously drives at least ten miles over. And his turns have been smoother than butter, as if he is trying not to jostle you anymore than you’d already been today.

You are so tired of this hot and cold thing that he’s doing. His words and his deeds weren’t going hand in hand. He keeps giving you the cold shoulder, but is also so in tune with your every movement and need.

Gingerly, you angle yourself in your seat to look at him better, resting your tired left arm on the back of your seat and taking in his strong profile.

“Why are you being like this?” you demand, waving your free hand in a vaguely in his general direction.

“Like what? I’m not being like anything,” he retorts, making the same vague hand gesture as you did a moment earlier.

And oh, if that doesn’t fill your chest with hot indignation. That low simmering anger has turned into a full roiling boil as you shift in your seat trying to get your ankle in a position where it doesn’t hurt.

“Seriously, Rooster? I can feel tension rolling off of you in waves. You’ve been like this since everything turned to complete shit on the beach. I didn’t mean to ruin your day, I’m just trying to figure out how to make things better,” you bite out unable to keep things bottled up anymore.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Are you kidding me right now? You think you ruined my day?” He glances from the road to you and back again, his brown eyes wide and searching.

“Yes?” Or so you’d thought until you’d seen the shock written all over his face, but now you weren’t so sure. It’s like you’ve dumped ice water on him instead of simply calling him out. “I feel like you’re taking it out on me and I don’t know why.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rooster swears under his breath, shaking his head. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart. I’m mad at myself, because I ruined your day.  I should have been more careful, I should have been looking out for you. It’s not like you’re hard to miss in that swimsuit.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment, but you choose to ignore it.

Misery drips from his words like spilled ink off a page. You knew he was upset, but you didn’t realize he was upset about that. That he’s shouldering this fluke of fate as if it is his burden to bear. Some of the anger you’ve been feeling leaves your body like the tide washing out back out to sea. You’re still upset at him for how he has been acting up until this point, but you’re not mad at him about that.

“Bradley, no. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, an accident I’m responsible for,” he says hoarsely, rubbing roughly at his forehead. “God, I can still hear the sound it made when you hit that rock and it makes me feel sick. I would give anything to undo that moment. I need you to know that.”

He is being so hard on himself and your heart squeezes, this time in sympathy rather than hurt. He didn’t place that rock in the sand, the both of you were victims of circumstance.

“It could have happened to anyone. It could have been anyone,” you press delicately, trying to get him to hear you, shifting in your seat again still uncomfortable.

The sunshine bounces off of his slumped shoulders as he sighs raggedly.

“But it happened to you and it’s my fault. You’re bleeding, you’re in pain, and you’ve been crying. And it’s because of me.” He reaches down with his right hand and lifts up your leg so that you can rest it on his thigh, some of the ache alleviating immediately. He asks quietly, “That better?”

“Yes, thank you,” you murmur. He looks so upset, and all you want to do is curl into his lap. You want to hold him and you want to be held by him. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

You expect him to move his hand back to the steering wheel, but he keeps it on your leg. His thumb stroking your still slightly sandy shin. Your cheery toenail polish at odds with the color blooming around your ankle.

Bradley’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, “Yeah, I do. I know that. But I still blame myself.”

The Bronco rolls to a soft stop at the light. There’s enough traffic that you know you’ll be here for a bit, and so does he since he turns in his seat to look fully at you. You take his sunglasses off, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt that rests above your heart, so nothing stands between his brown eyes and yours.

“So, you’re going to keep beating yourself up over it and icing me out? Making me feel worse? For what, Bradley? Because you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s not fair to me or to you.”

“Shit,” he mutters, his left hand running through his curls. “You’re right and I’m so sorry. I’ve been in my head feeling so damn guilty that I’ve been such an asshole. Can you forgive me?”

You’re about to answer him that when a horn startles you, making you jump in the leather seat. You see the light is green, the car that had been in front of you is gliding through the intersection passing under a blue sign pointing the way to the hospital.

“Bradley, the light.”

The car behind the two of you honks their horn again.

“They can wait. This is important, you are important. Do you forgive me?” There’s an underscore of need that punctuates his question.

“Yes, of course,” you say easily and sincerely. There’s so much remorse in his eyes, you would have forgiven him with that look alone.

“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief. And then he smiles at you for the first time since the beach and that ache in your heart is completely soothed, bandaged by that soft way he is looking at you.

Atlas no longer, he can simply be Bradley.

He takes his foot off the brake and by some miracle he’s able to make it through the light before it turns red again. You can see the tall structure of the parking lot near the hospital poking out above the line of the treetops.

The destination is closer than ever, but there are still things on your mind.

“And you aren’t an asshole, Bradley. But your bedside manner could definitely use some work,” you tease with a smile of your own.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to show you my bedside manner, but you keep holding me at arm’s length,” he groans dramatically.

The idea of experiencing Bradley Bradshaw’s bedside manner makes you feel all kinds of weak in the knees, even as you’re seated in his Bronco with your leg propped up in his lap, his big hand skating up and down along your shin comfortingly.

“How can you even say that with a straight face? You’ve never made a move!” you exclaim incredulously, “I was even the one to ask for your phone number, if you remember.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I hit on you all the time,” he argues with your favorite brand of Bradshaw banter, “I’ve been waiting for you to give me the green light, sweetheart.”

“I thought you were supposed to be pretty and smart,” you smirk.

He barks a laugh and the last tendrils of all the tension and all the pressure that had been swirling around you like a marine layer evaporates.

“You saying I’ve had the green light this whole time?” He looks over at you with a boyish smile, you like the way you feel when he looks at you like this.

“What I’m saying, Bradley, is if you’d have actually asked me out I would have said yes.” You press your toes into the muscle of his thick thigh and immediately regret it, wincing as pain ripples around your ankle.

He makes a sympathetic sound deep in his chest, “Sounds like I’ve been an idiot.”

“A very pretty one,” you allow, leaning your aching head back against the back seat.

“At least there’s that,” he concedes good-naturedly as he pulls into the parking lot, turning on his blinker for a spot opening up near the entrance to the Emergency Room by some twist of fate, one that’s in your favor this time.

Bradley pulls into the empty spot and kills the engine turning to you. He gently eases your foot back down onto the sandy floormat of the Bronco and leans into unbuckle your seatbelt.

He’s so close now looking up at you from under his eyelashes, and your breath catches in your throat. He moves closer, you can see the bits of hazel that surround his pupils. Your eyes flutter close and you tilt your head up, lips parting at the anticipation of his kiss.

There’s no holding back the noise of dissatisfaction you make when his lips press a tender kiss to your cheek. You lean into him wanting to feel, wanting him to give you more. His warm breath coasts over your skin as he chuckles. You can feel the way his lips are pulled up into a smile.

“I’m a gentleman, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls away, his eyes lingering on your lips. “My mom raised me not to go for the kiss on the first date. Or ones with head wounds and potential concussions.”

“Some first date,” you lament jokingly, looking in at the fluorescent lights awaiting you inside the hospital. You’d rather skip over this part entirely, but you’re ready to be done with holding Jake’s shirt to your head. “Nothing like insurance cards and scrubs to really set the mood.”

“Mmm. How about this, after we’re done here, I’ll take you through whatever drive-thru you want-”

“In-N-Out,” you cut in without a second thought. The novelty of it still hasn’t worn off on you, even if the fries are terrible.

“Ok,” he grins, “I’ll take you through in In-N-Out and get you your number two combo with mustard and grilled onions with a vanilla shake.” He pauses waiting for your nod of approval, looking more than pleased with himself when you acknowledge he got your order right.

“I like the sound of this so far,” you hum.

“Well that’s good. Since it’ll be our first date, I want to set that bar high,” he says giving you a wink. And there are those butterflies again, this time you don’t try to catch them with a net. They’re free to flutter around as they wish.

“If you really want to impress me, you’ll also take me through the McDonald’s drive-thru for their fries,” you muse.

“Done.”

“I was kidding,” you laugh, shaking your head at him disbelievingly and thoroughly charmed.

“Well, I wasn’t. So after we get you fed, give or take some fries, I will bring you home. I’ll get you whatever you need, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. Think you might be on crutches for a bit, sweetheart,” he says softly, playing with the ends of your hair. “And then in the morning, if you’re up for it, I’ll take you out for breakfast. Or bring you breakfast. Whatever you want. We can call that date number two.”

“And then you’ll kiss me?”

“And then I’ll kiss you,” he promises, offering you a crooked pinky finger. You beam and you wrap your own around his.

He slips out of the driver’s seat leaving you to contemplate the terms of his offer as he rounds the front of the Bronco. The nurses are going to get an eyeful of him in only those snug jean shorts and thin white tank. You make a mental note to avoid looking at him if they have to connect you to a heart rate monitor, he doesn’t need to know the effect he has on you. Not yet anyways.

“I have counteroffer,” you announce turning your body towards him as he opens your door for you.

“Let’s hear it, baby,” he says with a grin that almost makes you forget how bad your head and ankle hurt, “Shoot.”

“We still go to In-N-Out, but then in the morning you make me breakfast in bed with some of those famous Bradshaw pancakes I’ve heard about,” you say, as he steps in between your legs, “Seems like a good way to work on that bedside manner of yours.”

“I think you’re going to like my bedside manner, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

You tilt your head at him, taking in the sunkissed strands in his hair and the affection in his eyes, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Guess we will,” he rasps.

Rooster drops another sweet kiss to your cheek, whispering for you to stay put, and then he struts off towards the automatic doors of the Emergency Room. Leaving you alone with the butterflies in your stomach and the hope in your heart.

You dig your phone out of your straw tote and check the time, doing the math in your head.

There are a few messages from Nat and other people on the team already checking in, but you know you’ll have time to reply to them later as you wait with Bradley sitting by your side.

You look up and see he’s got a wheelchair now and is making his way back to you, wearing a soft smile on his face just for you.

Only seventeen more hours until you get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw and you can’t wait.

You’ve got that forever feeling about him.

Oh, oh, oh.

Thank you for reading! Rock on. Oh that joke was schist, I'll see myself out.

This was written as part of @roosterforme's Rocktober Playlist! You can check out all the other great submissions here!

The song that inspired this story was Paula Abdul's "Straight Up"

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @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

[tinyarsonist]

Volume: Up

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Summary: In which heart throb K-Pop Idol, Bangchan, just shows you how 'Christopher' he can really be.

MDNI 18+ Only

TW: idol!Chan, IdolTrainee!Y/N(fem!), drinking, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), smut in general, dirty talk, swearing, masturbation, dumification, nipple play (fem!), cum on stomach, PleasureDom!Chan, switch!reader (fem!), pull out, cum on stomach, let me know if I missed anything!

Italics are in Korean. Bold is in Spanish. Rest in English.

Volume Series: Part One | Part Two | ?

You were still in awe.

You started your career as an idol fairly late in the game, making you older than most. But, when you entered the world of K-pop, you knew this was what you were meant to do. You were already creating music since you were young, and how hard could it be?

Very.

There were days as a trainee when you felt like giving up. You left your friends and family back home to pursue your dream, and after years, you still felt like you were right back at the same spot you started. Never moving. Stagnant.

That's when you discovered Stray Kids. Watching their debut to where they are now. It motivated you.

Then, one day, your company announces that they want you to lead a team. They presented you with suitable candidates for your girl group, but something in you felt like something wasn't right. "Sorry," you apologize to your board. "But, if I may be so bold as to recruit my own members?"

You wanted a family. Craved friendship beyond just another gig. And, well, let's say it worked out very well for you.

This brings you to the present day--standing in DIV studio, surrounded by its members, to do an interview. Your group was just starting out and already doing well. You've posted a couple of dance practices and some ballad covers you performed as a group, tracking some major views across all social media. DIV wanted to be the first to be a part of the soon-to-be international hype.

"You ready?" Eric smiled at you as the crew set up your microphone. You nodded happily. The rest of your group couldn't make it due to schedule. It felt weird not having the rest of your girls around you, but knew this wasn't an opportunity you just passed up.

Time passes, and so far, the interview is going great. It was amazing being around like-minded people. And, it was also nice being able to curse and not have to worry about your 'imagine' among them. They were free to be who they wanted. They wanted to break the mold; conformity was not in their dictionary. It took a while to let your company agree to the interview in the first place, but this was the direction you wanted to take the group. To be yourself and just produce music.

"Okay, so next up is the heart rate challenge." Eric smiled. You were divided into teams; you and Eric vs. Peniel and BM. The winner would be dubbed by the lowest combined heart rate.

"You're going down!" BM teased as Peniel hyped him up in the back. You grin brightly.

"Considering you boys are literally jumping around before the monitor is even placed, I think it's safe to say we'll win."

"Oh okay, that's how it's gonna be??" Peniel laughed. "Then let's make a bet; the loser buys everyone barbeque!"

Eric and you agreed in a heartbeat. You were already craving galbi and rice. Peniel essentially just bought the dinner you were going to buy tonight anyway.

As the heart monitors are placed, you try your best to stay calm. You were an anxious person in general, but when push comes to shove, you always had a way of relaxing yourself.

Peniel and BM went first. Eric and you teased them relentlessly during their time duration of 5 minutes. Peniel started blushing during his time up when you started throwing winks and kisses his way. Their combined score was 250.

"That's not far!" Peniel groaned as the video crew asked for a short break to recalibrate their equipment. "She's too cute, like how does someone not get flustered?"

"It's all fun and games in love and war," you winked at him. Everyone laughed except Peniel, who just took out his phone and pouted. His fingers typed furiously on his keyboard. Once it was time to get the cameras rolling again, Peniel had a knowing smirk on his face. You couldn't help but wonder what he was concocting. You just knew he was plotting his revenge against you.

Eric went first. Despite the constant harassment Peniel and BM gave him, you couldn't help but laugh at their jabs. "You're supposed to be on my team!" Eric roared at you at his last 10 seconds on the clock. Despite everything, his heart rate totaled to 120. All you had to do was ignore the comments for a minute. You got this. You sat down in the middle of the floor and crossed your legs, getting in an almost meditative position. The rest followed. Then the buzzer started.

"So," Peniel started as soon as the timer started going. "You learned Korean by yourself, right?"

You shot him a distrusting glance. "Yes..."

Peniel and BM nodded their heads slowly. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very interesting." Eric shot you a glance. He could feel it, too. Based on how the two acted Eric's turn was completely different, they were calm. Too calm. They were up to something.

"One might say," Peniel feigned thoughtfulness by stroking his chin. "You had an interest in learning Korean before you even had thought of becoming a trainee."

Crap. He saw the clip.

Before your group days, you would do little lives here and there. Just want to document your early days and interact with anyone who wants to chat. During that time, you mentioned the real reason you learned Korean was to easily watch interviews without the need for subtitles. Then you casually mentioned how much of a fan you were for a certain boy group. Your fans, which was very little back then, took those clips and circulated them online. Which was fine. It gained some traction that you were a STAY and helped grow your platform. It was a bit embarrassing, essentially admitting that you only learned the language to watch their episodes and lives to get full context. But, hey, it also helped you get to where you are today.

Getting bullied by two idols so they don't have to pay for your dinner.

"Yes, Peniel. I learned Korean so I can watch Stray Kids' interviews live." You roll your eyes but keep track of where your monitor is. 95bpm. Not bad. So long as you stayed below 130, that galbi was yours.

Peniel and BM continued to stroke their chins. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very... Stray Kids fan. Very cool"

Peniel held up a finger before leaving the room. You looked around at the crew, confused. Eric laughed and peered after him; "Where is he going?"

His question was answered as Peniel stepped back into the room with a shorter figure behind him. You moved around to peer behind Peniel, and when you locked eyes with the guest, your heart rate shot up. 110bpm.

Eric and BM rose to give a small bow when Chan said his hellos. You stayed still in your place. Embarrassment immediately washed over you. But you took a deep breath in and out, 3 minutes until you can freak out. 3 minutes, and you can process every single emotion you are feeling.

Chan gave you a little wave, his dimples showing as he smiled. Ugh, he might as well shoot you in the heart right now.

"You're not gonna stand up?" Peniel teased. You immediately shook your head. As much as you wanted to say hi, dinner was calling your name. Seeing Chan in the flesh was amazing. But Galbi beat everything at this moment. BM smiled brightly and motioned for Chan to take a seat next to you. How sweet.

2 minutes. 115bpm.

You bowed your head slightly to say hello, still a bit too stunned to speak. Chan gave a small head bow back. "Sorry about this," he chuckled. You told him it was okay, but still unable to make eye contact. Despite that, you knew he looked incredible. He always did.

Focus! You tried to snap yourself out of it and took deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

"So... you learned Korean to watch us live? That's sweet," Chan felt awkward all of a sudden. When Peniel texted him, this wasn't what he expected to be doing during the interview. "How many languages do you know?"

You close your eyes and focus back on the game. Here you were making casual conversation, while 3 other idols were jabbing at you, trying to get your heart rate back up. "Four; English, Korean, Japanese, and Spanish."

"Holy crap, how is it going down?!" Eric looked at the monitor and backed up at you. You kept your eyes closed, trying to maintain a steady rhythm. Everyone but Chan was losing their shit.

You could hear BM jump to his feet. The impending doom of a very large bill drove his heart rate up. "Chan, do something!" He exclaimed in Korean. Chan giggled next to you; "What? What do I do?"

"Hit on her!" Peniel got up as well. All attention is now on Chan. Eric stood up and pointed at the two competitors; "Hey! Hey! You leave her alone!"

You couldn't help but chuckle; "I was subscribed to his bubble. I was in the trenches with the rest of STAY. There's nothing he can say that I haven't heard."

Chan clicked his teeth with his tongue. His eyes narrowed. A challenge. He looked at you, with your eyes still closed, before casting his gaze over at Eric. "Anyway, we can mute our mics for a sec?"

Your eyes shot open.

1 minute. 120bpm.

BM ran over to mute your mic. As soon as he backed up, Chan leaned in close to your ear. His breath tickled your cheek, and you had to close your eyes again. 125 bpm. 30 seconds.

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Chan wasn't expecting you to turn your head so quickly towards him. The way your face flushed. Your eyes wide. Everything about you was making his heart race. You locked eyes with him and felt like you couldn't breathe. This was it. That free galbi was gone.

The buzzer went off.

Everyone turned to the monitor.

129bpm.

You shot up from your seat and hugged Eric. Peniel and BM groaned at their loss. Chan laughed as he watched the two of you jumping around, singing about free barbeque.

He took a moment to sneak a look at you, his gaze traveling up and down. The way your hair bounced with you and how your outfit was snuggling your curves just right. He stood up as Eric said their sign-off. Once the cameras were shut off, the teasing started between the four. Peniel placed his arm around the younger idol and pulled him in a side hug. "It's okay," he reassured Chan. "It's not entirely your fault. A good majority of it. But, not fully."

Chan laughed and rolled his eyes. Everyone came up to thank him for coming over. That's when he locked eyes with you again, giving him a bright smile.

You gave the bow you weren't able to give before, formally introducing yourself. You all talked for a bit until you felt your hunger start to spike up; "Okay, so when are we getting dinner?"

The group settled for a time later tonight so everyone could get ready. BM invites Chan to tag along.

"No no," Chan shook his head, not wanting to impose. Peniel tickled his stomach as the rest of the group tried to get him to agree. You couldn't help but chime in. Part of you being selfish and wanting to spend more time with him and also wanting to get a jab in at Peniel and BM; "Come on, it'll be fun. And free!"

Chan looked at you. It was subtle, but his cheeks turned a bit red. "Y-yea, okay."

Chan made his way back to his dorm. The rest of the members who share the space are away on their own schedules. It was rare for Chan to spend the night alone.

He groaned as he plopped on the couch. He was still a bit jet lagged from flying from NYC back home. Laying his head on the back of the couch, he tried to take a nap before having to get ready to head out for dinner with you and the rest of the group.

You.

His mind was restless, and for some reason, they kept fluttering back to you. No matter how much he tried to push them out, he couldn't stop thinking about your big doe eyes. The way your breath hitched as he leaned in. The perfume you were wearing.

Was it Channel? Gucci? Whatever it was, it was flowery like a spring day. He could still smell it on his clothes oh so slightly.

Biting his lower lip, he got up from his seat and headed to the shower. The warm water was welcoming as he tried to clear his head. Unfortunately, it seemed there was only one thing to rid him of these thoughts.

The amount of guilt he felt once he stroked his cock to the thought of you was soon discarded as his mind wandered even more.

What were you like? Did you relinquish control or demand it? Were your lips as soft as he can imagine? Your mouth--oh God. How would it feel to have it wrapped around him? Were you a moaner? A screamer? Could he scramble your brain so much that you scream for him in Korean? Would you come in multiple languages?

He sped up his pace even faster. Water cascaded down his back as he faced the tile bathroom wall. One hand on the structure to ground him as he lost himself at the thought of you. He leaned his head back as he felt himself building and building. The warm water was a comforting feeling on his scalp.

The way he would take you as soon as you entered the dorm. No words, just a clash of flesh as he stripped you of your clothes and bent you over the couch. He wouldn't waste any time and would just thrust into your--oh God. How would you feel around his dick? How tight--

He muffled a moan as he came on his hand. The shower washed away any evidence of his inappropriate thoughts of you. He panted heavily and stood under the water for a couple of moments, pleasure rippling through him soon to be replaced with an abundant amount of guilt for getting off to someone he barely knew.

Maybe that was the thrill of it. Maybe the thought of having someone who didn't know his ups and downs is what did it for him.

Chan didn't have time to dwell on the thought as the time to meet up was fast approaching. And he hated to admit, but the thought of seeing you made his now softening cock twitch.

By the time Chan arrived at the restaurant, platters and drinks were spread across the shared table. BM and Peniel bought out a room so they could enjoy their meal without prying eyes. Chan could hear them hollering in the room before he even opened the door. His ears rang as they all loudly greeted him.

"Look who finally made it!" Peniel laughed as Chan took a seat across from them. Eric and BM were putting meat on the grill as they said their greetings. Chan couldn't help but scan the room, taking note that you weren't there. He tried to play it cool as he asked if you were running late.

"She texted us saying there was something she needed to finish up at home," BM answered him. Eric couldn't help but wiggle his eyebrows at Chan.

"Why? Scared she might not come?"

"No, no." Chan chuckled awkwardly while looking off to the side. "Was just wondering, is all."

The boys all made cooing noises. A flush of embarrassment washed over Chan at their teasing. Peniel smirked; "Wouldn't blame you, she's gorgeous!"

Chan poured himself a shot of soju, trying his best to drown out their teasing and take the stress away. The three men quit their teasing and talked about mundane things; schedules, new music coming out, and how big the bags under Chan's eyes were.

"I just flew back from New York!"

"Doesn't matter! Ever heard of eye cream!"

They were laughing at one another by the time you entered the room. Everyone stood up to greet you with a bow, and you bowed back. Gesturing for them to take their seats again. "Sounds like a party in here," you smiled as you took a seat next to Chan. He took note of how you wore your hair up in a messy bun, showing off your silver necklace. That flowery smell radiated off of you, and he had to lean a bit to the side so it didn't flood his senses in all the right ways.

"Is that soju or vodka?" You spot a filled shot glass from across the table. "Actually, it doesn't matter. Hand me it."

Chan watched you down the shot with a smile and motioned for Eric to pour you another one. "Hard day?"

The second shot went down a bit smoother and you gave him a grin. "You can say that."

He didn't need to know that the line he whispered in your ear had stressed you out to your core. It was possibly the hottest thing any man has ever said to you. It was all you could think about by the time you reached your dorm. His voice echoed in the back of your mind causing your body to feel hot.

He didn't need to know the real reason why you were late to dinner.

That you were squirming on your bed, rubbing yourself furiously between your legs. Trying to get all the tension out of your body before having to see him again.

And now you were sitting next to him. The man responsible for one of the best solo sessions in your life.

"I mean, I did have to spend half the day with these three." You gestured to the rest of the group who just booed at you. Eric rolled up a napkin and threw it your way, causing you to laugh.

As you and the group ate and drank, the room was beginning to get louder and louder. It wasn't long until everyone became tipsy.

You just finished cooking up your Galbi and offered it to the rest of the group who everyone, except Chan, declined. You used the tongs to bring it over to his plate before attempting to cut it. "Damn things," you huffed under your breath. The scissors were dull and worn out. Trying to cut through the meat was as effective as slicing a rib-eye with a spoon.

"Here," Chan grabbed the tongs and scissors from your hand. Despite the very brief time that his fingers brushed yours, you couldn't help but blush a bit as he gave you your half. You didn't have time to feel embarrassed as you caught Eric eyeing the two of you. He had his fingers interlaced and resting his head on them.

"You two look cute together~"

"Shut up," you mumble and grab some kimchi to add to your plate.

Chan sat quietly next to you. He plopped some food in his mouth, the best excuse he had to not comment. BM chuckled before pouring another round of drinks. "What did you say to her anyway? Peniel was screaming so loud I couldn't even hear it."

The two of you were sitting so close to one another, that you could feel Chan stiffen next to you. No doubt, wanting to avoid another round of ridicule from his colleagues.

"Awe, jealous he wasn't whispering in your ear instead?"

That snarky reply was all it took for the other two boys to holler and tease the living crap out of him. As the night progressed, soon talk of continuing the party commenced. Chan mentioned he had a free dorm tonight.

"You in?"  Eric asked you. You looked up from your plate of Galbi and rice. You were so distracted by your plate that you didn't realize they were all waiting for your answer. You hesitated. You obviously had this attraction to Chan since the interview. Hell since even before you became a trainee. The frustration of him being so near, mixed with alcohol, might just be the equation for something disastrous.

Chan bit his lower lip while sneaking a glance at you. He knew it was stupid to invite everyone over. To invite you over. He was already feeling the effects of drinking so much, trying to keep pace with everyone. What if he slipped up? Did something that made you hate him?

But then a wonderful thought popped into his mind: What if something amazing happened?

"It'll be fun," Chan gave you his shy grin. Your heart raced as you two locked eyes. How could you say no to that face?

"You got this," you whispered to yourself as you stood in front of Chan's door. It wasn't every day you're invited to a celebrity's apartment. Especially one that you've imagined in bed with when you're stressed out after work. Everyone left in their own taxi after dinner, planning to meet up at Chan's. You stayed a bit behind to make some phone calls to your family overseas, promising that you would be there soon. "Totally normal get-together. Nothing to worry about."

After a couple of seconds, you gather enough courage to knock on the door. A moment or two the door swings open and Chan stands there. God, he looked great with his messy hair, black tee, and joggers. Giving him that ready-for-bed look--

"Wait, were you asleep?"

Chan's face turned red. He was in bed. But he definitely wasn't sleeping.

"They didn't text you? They got a call on the way over, their schedule moved up earlier in the morning so they headed back home."

Oh.

You pull out your phone and groan. "Batteries dead." You just had to make those calls? You knew your mom could talk your ear off.

"Sorry," you put the phone back in your pocket. Taking a step back, you start to head out. "Have a good night."

"Wait!" He couldn't just let you leave. It could be from all the alcohol, but watching you saunter away felt wrong. He wanted you near him. To stay. "It's late... You can charge your phone and call a cab here if you want."

You didn't fight it. You know you should've. Chan was right, it was late. The responsible thing to do would be to go home. But that didn't stop you from sitting on his couch waiting for your phone to charge enough to call your ride. The two of you scrolled through YouTube on his TV, chatting about anything that came to mind as you both sipped on some mixed drinks Chan concocted when you first entered the apartment.

It was weird. Without the others, conversation flowed almost naturally between you two.

"You mean to tell me, you've never watched any of your own fan cams?!" You exclaimed. Chan shook his head and laughed shyly.

"No, it felt weird watching close-ups of myself if that makes sense?"

"You really should, they always look phenomenal!"

You grabbed the remote to scroll through the recommended videos to watch. Chan took the opportunity took look you over for the umpteenth time tonight. Here he was just in joggers and an oversized shirt while you sported a cute long-sleeved crop top and tight jeans. He had to grab the pillow next to him to cover up the bulge he was sporting.

You settled on a music video by RenMakesMusic.  The strum of the guitar had Chan bobbing his head along to the beat. The lyrics were a bit dark but meaningful. "This is good," Chan mused. "Turn it up a bit."

You gladly obliged with a smile, pressing the remote's volume button so his subwoofers would have to do some heavy lifting. Music filled the apartment as the two of you watched the video. You didn't realize it initially, but your shoulder pressed against his. You slowly shifted to your right, to create distance not trying to give him the wrong impression, but were surprised when he leaned back into you. It was comforting.

It was right.

"Everything okay?"

Chan's question broke through your mind wandering. You felt your cheeks heat up a bit. "Y-yea, um. Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall, to the right."

Chan watched as you made your way to the guest bathroom. He couldn't help but keep his eyes on your backside. Once you disappeared, he leaned further back into the couch and groaned.

What was he doing? Letting you in this late, checking you out when you weren't looking, trying to get any physical contact no matter how little it was. It was stress, it had to be. His schedule has been so hectic lately his body was trying to find relief since his mind was almost running amock. Chan was so lost in thought that he let YouTube play on in the background. Not paying much attention to what was playing.

When you exited the bathroom, you were greeted with bongos and macarenas bouncing through the dorm. Peaking around the corner you spotted Chan leaning against the couch. He had his head back against the rest, his eyes closed. But despite his worn-down posture, he was still tapping his foot to the beat. "Aw, come on--you call that dancing?"

Your voice brought back his focus. His side smile gave you butterflies and you couldn't help but wear your own when he quipped; "Like you know how to dance to this?"

"Alright, Christopher. Get up." You grabbed the remote next to him and turned up the stereo even more. Hopefully, anyone living above or below the apartment wouldn't be able to hear how the bass shook the walls.

His grin widened at the name change. Almost nobody called him that anymore. There was a fine line between 'Chan' and 'Christopher', one that you seemed to be willing to cross.

What else were you willing to do?

Your hand was extended to him as you stood above him from his seat. The gleam in your eye was bright, almost playful. There was this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. Bubbly and light. How the light casts around your silhouette made him realize why he felt the way he did when his eyes locked on you.

You were a goddess.

"You just gonna sit there? Come on, get up."

He didn't know what you said, but by the way, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled him from his seat, he knew he was in no position to argue.

You were a tough dance instructor. You corrected almost every misstep in Spanish. He couldn't comprehend your scolding, but he'll be damned to admit that at this point, he was doing it on purpose. There was something incredibly hot about being reprimanded in an unknown language.

"Dear all that is mighty," you sighed. "You're too stiff, loosen up a bit. Here, why don't you take the lead instead."

That caused his brain to malfunction a bit. He stuttered like a middle school kid being asked to dance for the first time. Without waiting for a reply, you grab his hands in yours and guide them on your body.  His hold on your waist was firm, but not too tough. He didn't want to scare you away. Not when he was so close to you he could smell your shampoo. Especially, not when you wrapped your arms around his neck and those eyes of yours were peering into his soul as you two stepped to the fast beat.

"Feel how my hips are moving?"

Oh, you bet he does.

Pushing those thoughts away, Chan tried to mimic your movement. "That's better!" You praised it, and it took everything in him not to press his body flush against yours right at that moment. He hated to admit it, but as the next song played, something with a slower tempo, every step you took with him around the living room, he somehow magically ended up closer to you.

This is the part where both of you could blame the alcohol.

You both were too inebriated to notice the fact that your phone was fully charged, that your fingers started to play with the bottom of his hair, or the fact that your faces were so close together. Chan's forehead rested on yours as the playlist finally died down to a softer ballad. YouTube ironically telling you two to slow down. But neither showing signs of listening.

"We...are going down a path you might regret." Chan closed his eyes to help steady his breathing. How were you able to do this earlier today? He felt like his heart was going to combust on the spot.

"That I might regret?" You whispered. Being this close to him felt surreal. You were sure you were about to wake up in your bed feeling very frustrated. "You won't?"

The feel of the pressure of your body was draining all his excitement from his chest to his dick. Another form of pressure was beginning to press against his underwear. A flood of penance sprung as quickly as his blood flowed to his quickening erection. "We just barely met. We don't know each other."

You pull away slightly so you can look up at him.

"Then, get to know me."

Chan knew this wasn't what you meant. But, it was too late to turn back now.

You were half-naked, a trail of clothes leading to his room.

For every question he asked, an article of your outfit was essentially ripped off you. Every question you answered, you returned the favor.

"Favorite food?" Whoops, there goes that necklace.

"Beef jerky with sticky rice." Goodbye, Chan's shirt!

He kissed you deeply and backed you up towards his bed. A brief pause as you fell into the soft cushions and he stared down at you. Your lips were puffy, chest rising and falling as you were trying to catch your breath. As much as he reveled in the thought of you being a goddess, there was something about bringing down a higher power that made him absolutely feral. Breaking you down bit by bit with every question. 

He climbed on the bed to hover over you, that stupid side smile making another appearance for the night. "That's not exactly a 'food', more of a meal."

"Sorry if I'm--ah. A bit distracted." You close your eyes as he attaches his lips right below your ear. Sucking on your soft skin, not hard enough to leave bruising, but a temporary mark just for his eyes. 

Biting your lower lip, you happily extended your neck a bit to give him more access. Mind all fuzzy and unable to think as he littered your neck with small kisses. Chan gripped your thigh and pulled it up a bit, lifting your hips just enough to hold you close to his pelvis,  kneading your thighs through your tights.

"Need you to focus." He nipped softly at your skin. "How else am I going to learn everything about you?

"Favorite position?" His fingers went under the hem of your tights and helped you shed the last outer part of your outfit. Once it was thrown somewhere across his room, you wrapped the leg he was holding up around his back and used what momentum you could gather to push his back on the bed. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your hips as you straddled him.

Your lips were soft and gentle as you leaned in for a kiss, the complete opposite of the intensity shared just moments before. "Don't care, so long as I'm full."

Chan wasted no time by stripping himself of his joggers and boxers on your behalf. Stifling a moan as best as he could once he felt your clothed core perfectly placed on his growing erection.  Guiding your hips to grind against him, he grinned as you threw your head back and sighed in content. Chan rocked his hips perfectly to the rhythm he set against you, providing the much-needed friction you craved.

You were starting to think he was tanking at dancing salsa on purpose.

"Anything off limits?" You couldn't even register that his hands snuck up to undo your bra clasp. He took a second to appreciate the view. Chan couldn’t stop himself from using his forearms to prop himself up to latch onto one of your nipples. Licking and sucking at anything he could grab. The mewls coming from your mouth sounded like a song he never wanted to end. Your hand caressed the back of his head, pressing him closer. 

“Just--mmm. Just don’t stop even if I say so.”

Leaving your breast with a wet ‘plop’, he stared up at you. You could see the usual gleam in his eyes disappear. They became dark, almost predatory. Chan lifted you off so he could be above you again. He traced your skin from the collarbone down to the hem of your underwear. You arched your back at his touch; “Luckily for you--I like begging.”

Your breath hitched. Surely, he could see the wet stain on your underwear by now.

“Any safe words then?”

Last question.

Chan finger slipped underneath the cloth and played with your folds. The way you squirmed underneath him made him want to ruin you more. The chuckle he let out when you tried to squeeze your thighs together made you feel warm all the way down to your core. Chan was quick to use his body to keep you nice and spread. All for him.

“L-lemon…”

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you.” Chan slipped the tip of his middle finger in you. “Could you speak up a bit?”

“Pendej--mmmphhh” You couldn’t finish your quip. Chan pushed in further until he was knuckle-deep. His lips hovered over yours as he slowly worked in and out of you. You kept arching and writhing as he continued his ministrations, mouth wide open as you let out silent moans.

“Ah, ah--I wanna hear you.” Once he added in a second finger, you couldn't contain yourself. Moans were spilling out of you like a pornstar. Even when he kissed you, there was nothing to stop the volume you were outputting. “Good job, baby.”

“Oh?” He chuckled as he felt your walls clamp down on him. “Did you like that?”

You couldn't speak as he kept pressing into you, wiggling his fingers against your walls. “C-chan…please…”

“Sorry, what was that?” He teased as he kissed around your collarbone.

“Chan…”

The bastard kept pretending not to hear you. As if he couldn't feel you practically leaking around his fingers and clenching around him like there was no tomorrow. 

You finally had enough.

Grabbing ahold of his face with one hand, you forced him to look at you. His cheeks smashed between your fingers. “Christopher, I swear to God--if you don't fuck me right now I'm taking over.”

Ah, so you did like to be in charge.

With a grin, he gladly ripped off your panties. He pulled away just a bit, taking in your appearance. Wanting to embed it into his brain for any future sessions he might have with himself later on.

He knew he should've grabbed a condom, but the alcohol was still flowing through him and he couldn’t stop himself as he slowly pushed into you. You tried finding words; how big he felt, how full he made you, but all that could come out were whimpers as he groaned and leaned in for another kiss to ease any pain you felt.

The two of you grind against one another. Chan never fully pulled out, keeping himself nice and snug in your warmth. Stretching you out, oh so sweetly.

Chan wasted no time in picking up his thrust as you tapped his shoulder, indicating that he was okay to move. You squeaked as he hooked your knees on his shoulders and leaned down to essentially bend you in half. He was hitting a spot you never felt before; not with previous boyfriends and definitely not with your own toys at home.

“So fucking tight…” Chan hissed as his pace sped up to the point he was jackhammering into you. His lips found their way back to your neck and kept mumbling about how you felt around him. So tight, so warm, just right. His teeth nipped your ear lobe, desperate to grab onto something but knowing he couldn’t mark you up too much. “Is this good, baby? Need it harder, faster?”

When you didn’t respond to him, he slowed down a bit and leaned back to stare down at you. His cock twitched when he realized what was happening.

You laid on the bed; eyes glazed over, mouth wide open, cheeks completely flushed. You knew he was asking you a question in Korean, but the words weren’t forming in your head like they usually do. “Aw,” Chan laughed. “Does it feel that good that you forgot Korean?”

Chan let up on the pressure so his hand can snake its way to your lips. You instantly latch on to his fingers and suck. Your tongue brushes around his tips, tasting the leftover residue of yourself from earlier. Your knees unhook from his shoulder and fall on either side of his waist. A whimper leaves you as he removes his fingers from your mouth and travels down to rub your clit. Still keeping his thrust with his brutal pace.

“Ahhh…wait…” You squirmed and your hand went to grab his wrist. Chan noticed how you didn’t pull his hand away despite your pleas. “Chan, p-please--too much.”

He kept using your body. Chan could feel you clamping down around his length. “Sorry,” he breathed out as he felt the pressure in his balls rising. “You’re just, hmmmph, too perfect.”

That’s what did it for you. The fact that he listened to what you mentioned earlier, and his talk. The crash of pleasure that overcame you was intense. Chan shuddered as he felt your wave around him. “Fuck, fuck fuck,” you came with a cry. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to ground yourself in any way that you could. You were loud. Nothing could stop the curses that flowed out of you as you held him close against you. Chan wasn’t far behind; “Oh, I-I’m gonna--”

He pulled out and stroked his cock rapidly around his head, painting your stomach with his warm cum. Of all the art museums he visited around the world--this was by far his favorite piece of work.

The room was filled with both of your heavy pants as he laid in your arms. Once he was able to catch his breath, Chan pulled away from your embrace placing the gentlest kiss on your lips. Humming as you kissed him back. He tried to get up, but you were quick to stop him.

“Don’t go…” You pouted. Part of you knew this would be a one-time thing, but another part never wanted this to end. Chan smiled down at you and gave your cheek a quick peck.

“I’m just grabbing a towel to clean you off.”

As he walked off to the bathroom you stared down at the mess on your abdomen. The remnants of the best sex of your life were starting to cake on your skin. It took everything in you to not scoop some up and taste him in your mouth. When Chan returned with a wet cloth, he cleaned you up before plopping onto the bed beside you.

Once you caught your breath, reality set in.

Here you were, all fucked out with a colleague in the same industry. Everything told you to leave. It wasn’t like the two of you were in a relationship. It was a rash decision based on a lot of alcohol and dancing. You started to get up, but Chan was quick to wrap his hand in yours.

“You…you don’t have to go…” Chan shifted to lay on his side and stared down to not meet your eyes. Acting all shy as if he didn’t fuck the lights out of you just moments before. Your heart melted at the sight.

Slinking back into bed, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest. His cheek pressed against the top of your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat against you and closed your eyes.

“You know,” you sighed. “This was something I definitely didn’t regret.”

“Me ‘neither.”

As the morning rolled around you woke up to Chan still wrapped around you. His soft snores made you smile. There was something surreal about seeing him so at peace that made your heart flutter. Placing a small kiss on his cheek, Chan shifted slightly and groaned as he stretched a bit.

“Mornin’,” He grumbled but held a smile as soon as his eyes landed on you. Chan wasted no time in pulling you into a kiss. His hands sneaking towards your ass to knead your flesh. His excitement is present against your thigh.

"Somebody's eager," You giggle as he pressed closer to you. Chan smirked as he gently rubbed his morning wood against you.

"You can say that."

"Unfortunately--"

Chan grumbled and hid his face in the crook of your neck. "No, don't say that."

"I was just going to say, that I need some water first." It was true. After all the drinks last night, your head was pounding like never before.

"Okay," Chan smiled and got up from bed to put a pair of boxers on. "Stay put, I'll grab you something to eat too."

Minutes passed as you waited in bed. Surprise overtook you as you heard a pan sizzling and the welcoming smell of home-cooking started to flood the dorm. Dawning one of his shirts, you made your way to the kitchen. Chan's back was to you as he manned the stove. You could see how his back rippled with every movement he made.

You couldn't see it, but a smile crept on Chan's face as he felt you wrap your arms around his midriff. "I thought I told you to stay put?"

"I'm not one for taking orders." You laugh as you hook your chin on his shoulder to peer over him. "Besides," Chan stiffened a bit as he felt your lips hover over his ear. "There's something sexy about a man cooking."

"Oh?" He quickly turned off the stove and turned around to face you. Your arms wrap around his neck as he leaned down closer to your face. "And what about your water?"

It was a frenzy of passion as your lips locked with his yet again. Both of you eager to relive last night in the light of sobriety. "Water can wait," you whisper in between kisses.

Chan easily lifted you, placing you on an open counter. Your legs spread to allow him access to be closer to you. The both of you started to mold into one another as the intensity grows. "I should cook for you more often," He grins as he breaks away from the kiss to catch his breath. He lifted his shirt on you slightly so your cunt was exposed.

"Promise?" You teased as he lowered himself down slightly to bring his lips level to your core. Chan enjoyed the way your head leaned back slightly as you felt his hot breath against you.

"Promise."

The both of you were so entranced with what was about to happen, that you didn't hear the door opening. Only the shrilly scream that bounced around the dorm broke you two apart.

You instantly jumped down from the counter as Chan stood upright, finding protection from behind him. Chan tried using his body to shield your half-naked body from the view of a very frightened Felix.

Not that he really needed too.

The younger member held both hands over his eyes. Groceries bags around him, spilling its contents around the floor.

"Felix?" Chan stuttered as he grabbed a kitchen rag to cover up his erection. "W-what are you doing here?"

Chan gestured for you to run back to the room as Felix was still covering his eyes. You had no hesitation, wanting to escape from the embarrassment. AKA your own personal hell.

"I didn't want you eating alone... I was gonna make breakfast."

Author's Note: Here it is! Please let me know what you think. I'm also open to requests, I really want to get back into writing and interacting more on here. If you'd like to be added to my taglist please interact with this post (linked). Bye~

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[reiderwriter]

Hii~ First of all I love your writing!

Now about the request... I really wanted one where Spencer is dating a painter who has the personality of a black cat (we all know that our Reid is a total golden retriever type) and everyone thinks that she is the dominant one of the couple since she has this more punk/alternative style, but the team couldn't be more wrong! A soft!Dom Spencer makes her obey and yield every time! ~thank u

A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I can definitely see myself making a part two for this if enough people are interested!! For now though, enjoy! ~✨

Warnings: mentions of public sex, BDSM roles, mentions of using dog collars in a sexual way, mentions of creampie.

Here's my masterlist and requests are open!~

“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting your mystery girl tonight, Reid. You’ve been so quiet about her, we’d have never even known if Penelope hadn’t hacked your phone on a hunch.” Emily laughed at the man from her perch at the bar, raising her glass in a cheers with her fellow agents. 

“I’m not too sure she really exists, you know. I know what my baby girl said but the kid graduated from MIT, and we know texts can be doctored,” Morgan teased from the other side of the younger man. 

In response, he simply rolled his eyes and let them continue their fun and games. He’d known the two agents for long enough to know that their teasing was loving, if not entirely warranted. He’d only kept you a secret because you’d asked him to, having wanted to make a good first impression on them. He’d have gladly shouted your name from the rooftops, but you were on the shy side sometimes. 

“Oh you’re just jealous. You want me to help you take a little honey home tonight, Derek?” Emily turned on the other man this time and Reid breathed a sigh of relief that the attention was finally off of him.

“I am perfectly capable of collecting all by myself, thank you very much.” He turned an amused eye out to the rest of the bar, surveying the women in the bar like a predator looking or it’s next victim. 

“What about that one? She good enough for the Derek Morgan?” Spencer glanced up at where she was pointing at the same time as the aforementioned male did and did his best to repress his smile. Emily had glanced to the door, where you stood, outfitted in a tight black dress, chunky thigh high boots and a stoic expression. You’d carefully washed all the paint that usually adorned your hair and face away, armouring yourself in red lipstick and dog collar choker, letting the look speak for itself. 

“Now that is a nice piece of work, but not exactly what I’m into, sweet cheeks. I prefer my ladies a little bit less wild. A little more compliant if you pick up what I’m putting down.” 

“Coward. Dominant women are more fun, right Reid?” Emily smiled back at the other man, but he was looking past the two of them waving to you. 

“Oh great, you’re here. Emily, Derek I want you to meet my girlfriend, Y/N.” He grabs your hand and leads you the rest of the way to where they were standing, the grin on his face widening exponentially as the two splutter, praying to god that you didn’t just hear the tail end of their conversation about you. 

“Hi, great to meet you. And yes, Emily, I agree. Dominant women do seem to have a lot of fun,” you winked at the woman a little bit and let your boyfriend excitedly drag you over to the bar to buy you a drink. 

Recovering first, Emily pulled herself back into the barstool she’d recently vacated, and started asking you questions. 

“So, how did you guys meet?” 

“At the library actually. I was there installing a mural, and I saw him and decided I had to have him.” You smiled fondly up at your boyfriend, as he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. You’d perched yourself between his legs, leaning your entire bodyweight back into his chest possessively, as he trailed a light hand over your waist. 

“You’re a painter? Wow, that’s so wonderful.” 

“Yeah, that’s the dream anyway. I also work part time at an art gallery downtown to help pay the bills. It’s where he tracked me down, so it worked out pretty well, I guess.” 

“Tracked you down?” Morgan asked. 

“Yeah, after our first… run in, I forgot to give him my number.” 

“Run in? You said you met at the library, what else did you do if you forgot to swap numbers?” Emily laughed, half-heartedly, then stopped as soon as she saw the smug grin on your face paired with the awkward panicked expression on Reid’s. 

“Shut up. No way, wait I don’t even want to hear this.” 

You smiled up at the man, knowing that the way his two coworkers were imagining that first meeting was probably the exact opposite of how it had gone. Sure, you’d told the truth about approaching him first, but that was the extent of your control of the situation. You’d gone over to ask for his number, find out his name and ask if he was single. You’d returned to work an hour later with sore knees, no panties and a load of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

He hadn’t even allowed you to give him his number, just promised that he’d find you again, and vanished from the library bathroom stalls you’d christened in sin with a lingering kiss on your lips and a whisper of “good girl.” You’d fallen for him hard, and you never wanted to get back up. 

“Wow. And he was so desperate to find you again that he followed you to work. We taught you better than that, Reid, come on. You’re going to freak out the ladies if you come on that strong.” Morgan began teasing the man, ruffling his hair, and you bit your tongue to stop the laughter from exploding from your mouth. 

You knew from your appearances that people often came to the wrong conclusions about how you and Reid were as a couple. Your style was more alternative, though not as intense as you’d been in high school, and his was more preppy nerd, but you balanced each other out well. You knew that it irked him sometimes though. And whenever he was pissed, he took it out on you in the best way. 

After a few hours in the bar getting to know Morgan and Prentiss, and the two other lovely ladies who had arrived later, JJ and Penelope, Reid’s grip on your waist tightening made it clear that it was time for you to go home together. 

“I think we’re going to head out now, guys. I’ll see you in the office on monday.” He said and moved off, but you wanted to see how far you could push it tonight, wanting to see the lengths he would take to not show his teammates that they had vastly misunderstood your relationship. 

“But Spence, I just met them. I wanna talk some more,” you smirked up at him now, and saw his jaw clench. You were thankful you’d work the dog collar choker tonight, the thought of him grabbing it to yank you away making you squeeze your thighs together for some much needed friction. 

“We’re going now, baby. Come here.” You ignored the order for another second, and you could feel the heat in his gaze, and the curiosity in his friends as they watched this struggle between you. 

“Sweetie, did you hear me, I said we’re going now?” This time, you knew he wasn’t playing anymore, so with a quick “yes, sir,” you pushed yourself out of your seat and practically skipped over to him, a delighted grin on your face. He cupped you neck, wanting desperately to pull you in by the neck but choosing restraint instead, and brushed his lips to yours. Whenever he kissed you like that, it meant you’d caused trouble, and you knew you were going to spend the night paying for it. 

“Bye-bye, everyone, it was so nice to meet you,” you called as he led you out of the doors and into the carpark. 

“What the hell was that?” Penelope was the first one to crack, the others jaws still dropped to the floor. 

“Did she just call him sir?” JJ laughed in incredulity. 

“But-but I could’ve sworn they were…” Emily blubbered and the four of them sat there staring at the door, realising that they had underestimated their resident genius a little bit too much. 

[teamblck]

the 141 as dads

captain john price-

• this man is would be such a good dad

• we all know for a fact this man has a breeding kink so i see him having like 3/4 kids

• waking up early in the morning and eating bowls of cereal watching old cartoon re runs with them

• would start smoking outside or exclusively in his office because he doesn’t want that around them

• type of dad in his retirement to coach his kids football/soccer team

• the best for laying the child on his chest, humming as they fall asleep

• would be super interested in what his children’s interest are (this goes for all of them but i’m putting it here)

• takes his kids on camping and fishings trips

• loves to play hide-n-seek with his kids

• his kids would mock his actions and stand in front of the tv with his hands behind his back, and when they are napping on the couch his kid would also start snoring cause we all know this man snores LOUDLY

• type of dad whenever his kids mention they like eating something once he buys like 5 boxes of it

• would cry they say their first word no matter what is is

• loves taking them to the park

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick-

• okay literally the best dad ever

• i could see him with like 2 or 3 kids

• MATCHING OUTFITS

• if he had girls he would 1000% learn all kind of cute braid styles for them

• when he found out his spouse was pregnant he would be shocked but happy and would immediately buy 100 what to expect when you’re expecting books

• would hate when he kids got into trouble cause he would hate laying the law down but would sit them down and talk every calm but firm

• then would go into another room and be like 🥺

• would NEVER get angry with his kids

• all the mothers would flirt with him in the pickup line at school and he just ignores it

• he thinks his children deserve the entire world

• his kids call Price grandpa

• will blow raspberries on their stomachs until they they can’t stop giggling

• takes 1000 photos of his kids doing anything and then spam sends them to his spouse

• got so nauseous the first time he changed a diaper

• family halloween outfits

john ‘soap’ mactavish-

• such a fun dad

•pillow forts

• ice cream for breakfast

• if he had a son/sons he would cut their hair in the mohawk style as well

• would want so many children omg

• he comes from a big family so i think he would want one as well

• but if his spouse didn’t want a big family he would be okay with it

• if you’ve watched modern family he would be like phil dunphy

• would put his kids on those kid leashes whenever they go anywhere

• i feel like one thing he would struggle with is saying no to his children

• would always help them with their math and science homework

• type of dad to do push ups while his kids are sitting in his back and they are all giggling

• the proudest dad ever! is at every dance recital or sports game or talent show and if he can’t be (because of his job) he would ask all about it when he got home and even if they did poorly he would still tell them how proud of them he is and go her ice cream

•TICKLE FIGHTS

• it would also tear him up if couldn’t be there during a special event for his children

• i also feel like he would cry at major life milestones

• if his children/kid are into sports all you can hear at games is him yelling across the field

simon ‘ghost’ riley-

• GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON

• just imagine him with a pink baby holder strapped to his chest

• he would be such a good father omg

• with his past with his father he would be super scared at first but then as he’s holding this tiny infant he would get angry (not at child obviously) cause how could anyone treat their child the way his father treated him?

• would be super protective of his children (i mean all of them would tbh)

• as cute as it is for the baby to wear little skull head clothing, i don’t think he would want his children knowing ‘Ghost’.

• i think one thing he would struggle with is when his kids throw tantrums when it’s over something ridiculous like he wouldn’t let them pull their siblings hair or eat something gross off the floor and he doesn’t know how to deal with them. he doesn’t want to get to firm and scare them and he doesn’t want to give into such ridiculous things so he would kinda back away and look at you for help

• his kids would 1000% get his accent

• loves to lift them up with his arms, whooshing them around like they are a super hero

• has tea parties with his kids and their stuffed animals on a regular basis

• such a big softie for his children/child are you kidding me

• his children/kid use him as like a jungle gym and are usually hanging off his arms

• would never tell them what he does for work and when they ask he would just say ‘work’

i would give any of these men children or all of them

let me know if you have any feedback!!

[lukesvangelista]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑ᵏʲ⁹¹

in which y/n and kent hide a big secret from his teammates.

warnings; pregnancy, mention of kids, alcohol, vacation

Kent was the kind of guy who always seemed at ease, the life of the party but with a quiet confidence that drew everyone to him. You had fallen for him long ago, when the two of you were young teenagers, and now, you were his everything. This vacation with his teammates was supposed to be fun, a chance to unwind, but you had a secret - one that had been growing for months.

You were pregnant. 

Kent was ecstatic when you told him. He’d hugged you so tightly that night, whispering about the future, about how perfect everything was going to be. But now, here you both were, on this vacation with Sean Kuraly, Cole, Gavin, and Adam, and neither of you had told them. The timing wasn’t right - in fact, you guys hadn’t even told your families. Maybe they’d get suspicious, or worse, maybe they’d feel like you were holding out on them. Kent was sure they’d freak out once they knew.

But here you were, at Sean’s beach house in Cape Cod. While the rest of the boys had flown, you and Kent had decided to make the 16 hour drive from Columbus, simply to spend more time with each other before having to share a living space with the others for two weeks. Once you had arrived, though, everyone was exhausted and just wanted to spend the first night in. In fact, Adam had suggested a few card games.

There was only one problem. On top of that, Cole had suggested alcohol. You looked at Kent nervously, but he gave you a reassuring smile as Sean turned to you, “Y/N, come up with a challenge for us. Whoever loses has to buy drinks.”

This was perfect. You nodded, picking up your phone and opening a random wheel spinner. You had each of the boys pick an NBA team, but when it came to entering them onto the wheel, you entered Kent’s all four times. So, when the wheel stopped spinning, you announced the team out loud, “The Minnesota Timberwolves.”

Sean, Adam, and Cole all cheered as Kent pretended to roll his eyes, but he sneakily shot you a knowing smile before picking up his keys from the counter. The boys slapped him on the back a few times but he shook them off, gently grabbing your arm, “Since your challenge is the reason I lost, you’re coming with me.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but immediately gave in. Adam snickered behind you as Sean and Cole let out a few cheers. Kent wrapped an arm around you and opened the door for you, gently leading you to his car. As soon as you were out of earshot, Kent spoke up softly, “You feeling okay?”

You couldn’t lie. The exhaustion was creeping in. The pregnancy was still early, and you weren’t showing much, but the morning sickness, the fatigue – it was all becoming harder to hide. Kent had noticed the change in you almost immediately, but knew that it had grown harder for you in the past couple of weeks. He was worried. He was so excited to have a little him or little you around the house soon enough, but also hated seeing how hard it was on you. On top of that, he knew that you wanted to keep it a secret for as long as you could, and he knew you’d be even more stressed if people were to find out, so he didn’t want to spill anything. 

In fact, he questioned even coming on this trip, but you had explained that you’d needed it. Whether he believed you or not, was only up for him to decide. 

He opened the car door for you and you waited to reply until he was buckled in on the other side, “Just tired,” you answered, offering him a small smile. 

He rubbed the pad of his thumb across your cheek, “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, offering him another small smile. The drive to the liquor store was rather quiet. Kent had put on some Frank Ocean, which you both had softly hummed along to until you pulled into the parking lot. 

Kent turned off the car and exited his side, only to appear on your side of the car a few seconds later to open the door for you. You grabbed his hand and as soon as he knew you were safely out of the car, he placed his arm on the small of your back protectively. The cool night breeze rolled in off of the ocean as you made your way through the parking lot. The distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore helped ease some of the nerves that had been building up inside of you.

“I feel like I’m gonna slip up at some point,” you admitted, resting your head against your boyfriend’s shoulder, “Cole’s just gonna keep offering me drinks and it’s gonna be suspicious if I keep saying no.”

Kent rubbed your back with the pad of his thumb, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head reassuringly, “You’re doing great, pretty girl. But I’ll tell you what. We’ll buy an extra pack of drinks, dump them out, and then go to the grocery store to buy some non-alcoholic alternatives that we can put in there instead. I would say we’d just buy some non-alcoholic beer here and have you drink that, but Adam’s overly observant.” he chuckled.

You nodded, shooting your boyfriend a relieved smile. You always appreciated how calm and steady he was. Even though you were both navigating this secret together, Kent always managed to make you feel like everything was under control.

When you stepped inside, the cool air-conditioning hit you immediately as the door jingled behind you. Kent headed straight for the fridge, grabbing a couple cases of beer and a bottle of whiskey that he knew Sean would like. You followed suit, selecting a case of High Noon out of the fridge. 

“Ready?” Kent asked, shooting you a smile when you replied with a yes.

As you reached the counter to pay, the cashier raised an eyebrow at you and Kent, his eyes flicking to your stomach before looking back at Kent. You shifted uncomfortably, aware that people might notice your changing body sooner rather than later. Kent caught the look too but didn’t say anything, keeping the conversation casual with the cashier as he handed over the money.

When you stepped back outside, you breathed a little easier. “Think he noticed?” you asked, half-joking.

“What an asshole,” Kent muttered, rolling his eyes playfully. 

The trip to the grocery store was pretty uneventful. Kent had gone in and picked out a sparkling water brand that you liked, along with some flavored sodas that looked fancy enough to pass as mixed drinks. On top of that, he grabbed a few more things, making sure you’d have enough variety to keep up appearances for the next few days. Once the cart was full, he checked out, the cashier giving him a friendly nod as he paid for the items.

When Kent reached the car, he opened your passenger side door. “Now comes the tricky part,” he said with a grin, opening up the package of High Noon and dumping out the drinks. He grabbed a few water bottles from his trunk before flushing out the alcohol from the cans - and thoroughly.

“I think that’s good, KJ,” you chuckled, flashing him a smile. He looked up at you and flashed you one in return.

“Gotta keep my girls safe,” he explained, ruffling your hair before opening up the bottles of sparkling water and pouring them into the clean cans with the same care, resealing them to make sure they looked untouched. Everything looked perfect - no one would suspect a thing. Kent stood back and took a moment to admire his work, placing the resealed package at your feet before ruffling your hair again. 

You rolled your eyes, shaking him off, before he quickly made his way back to his side of the car and hopped in. You looked at him incredulously, “We don’t even know what we’re having yet!” you exclaimed, but you knew there was no point in arguing. Ever since you told him that he was going to be a dad, he was adamant that the two of you were having a baby girl. Of course, he’d be happy as long as the baby’s safe and healthy, but that didn’t change his fatherly instinct, as he liked to call it. You rolled your eyes again, chuckling softly, and were on your way back to the beach house.

When the two of you arrived back there, Sean, Cole, and Adam’s rowdy laughter could be heard through the walls as you and Kent slipped through the side door into the kitchen. When he looked over towards you, he noticed how you self-consciously had placed your arms over your growing bump. Sensing your discomfort, he softly placed the alcohol down and gifted you the hoodie off of his back.

You smiled gratefully at him, grabbing the “seltzers” from him as he carried the whiskey and beer. The two of you carried the drinks out to the main room, where Sean, Cole, and Adam were engrossed in a game of Black Jack.

“Finally!” Cole exclaimed, dropping his cards as he noticed the two of you walk in, “We were wondering what took you so long!”

You chuckled, placing the drinks down on the table alongside Kent, “It’s Friday night in a vacation town,” Kent explained, shrugging his shoulders to keep it casual. Adam nodded along, seemingly saying fair enough.

As the guys reached for the beer and whiskey, Kent grabbed one of the “seltzer” cans and handed it to you with a wink. You accepted it gratefully, taking a sip and letting the cool, refreshing taste calm your nerves. He then wrapped an arm around you as you cuddled into his side.

The night continued on, with no one suspicious about what you and Kent had just pulled off. The boys were yelling about the game of euchre they were playing, earning a soft but playful eye roll from you. Kent kept a watchful eye on you, making sure you were comfortable, all while seamlessly blending in with his teammates.

As the night wore on, the laughter in the living room began to slow, and you could feel the weight of exhaustion settling over you. Between traveling all day and the energy it took to keep up appearances, your body was calling for rest. You smiled at the guys, pretending to stifle a yawn as you pushed your chair back from the table.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you said, glancing around the room, ���I’m pretty wiped from today.”

Sean, Cole, and Adam all gave you understanding looks, still focused on their cards and drinks. “You’ve earned it,” Sean said with a grin, “We’ll try not to be too loud and keep you up.”

“Good luck with that,” Adam teased, “Cole’s not exactly the quietest person you’ll ever meet.” 

You laughed lightly as Cole smacked Adam upside the head. Standing up and giving Kent a quick look, your eyes communicated more than words could in that moment. He caught your glance immediately, knowing exactly what you meant. You needed him with you, but at the same time, you didn’t want to raise suspicion by him leaving too soon after you.

“I’ll be up in a bit,” he said, giving you a small, reassuring smile, “I’ll keep an eye on Cole and make sure he’s not too loud.”

You nodded, giving him a quick hug and offering the guys a wave before slipping away from the table. As you climbed the stairs, you could hear them still talking and laughing, their voices a soft hum in the background. Once you were upstairs, you exhaled a long breath of relief, the tension of the day finally easing as you made your way to your room. 

You changed into your pajamas, feeling the weight of the day lifting as you settled onto the bed. It didn’t take long for Kent to join you. About 30 minutes later, you heard his familiar footsteps on the stairs, and the door quietly creaked open.

“Hey,” he said softly, closing the door behind him as he moved toward the bed, “You okay?”

You smiled, nodding as he sat down beside you, “Yeah, just tired. It was a lot today.”

Kent slid into bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. “I know. You did so good today, pretty girl. No one suspects a thing.”

You chuckled softly, resting your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming you, “Thanks for helping me pull it off. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Kent kissed the top of your head, his voice low and comforting, “Of course, my love. We’re a team.”

The two of you stayed like that for awhile, the soft sounds of the ocean outside your window mixing with the distant murmur of voices from downstairs. It felt peaceful, the weight of the day finally lifting now that you were alone together.

“I can’t wait until they're here,” you whispered after a few moments of silence, your hand resting gently over your stomach.

Kent smiled against your hair, his arm tightening around you, “Me too. But until then, we’ll keep playing it cool for as long as we can. You get some rest, though, alright? You’ve had a long day.”

You nodded, feeling sleep begin to pull at you as Kent’s warmth and presence comforted you, “Goodnight, KJ.”

“Goodnight, Y/N/N,” he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead.

With Kent beside you, you felt safe and content, knowing that no matter what challenges the next days would bring, you had him by your side. As your eyes fluttered shut, the last thing you felt was Kent’s hand gently resting on your stomach, a quiet reminder that the two of you were in this together. Always.

a/n; would kj be a girl dad or a boy dad

[scarletwinterxx]

but on a wednesday in a cafe i watched it begin again - kim mingyu imagine

hiiiii - okay i'm so so so inlove with this one. may i say this is half inspired by real life scenarios haha anyways i hope you like it!

alsooo just a thought, would anyone want to be mutuals on X?

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

10 years ago

"Kyeom, I'm gonna go. I have assignments to do"

"What noooo, the game's just about to start" he mutters, he even kick feet like a little kid

"Then stay, but I'm going" you didn't even give him a chance to say anything because you're already out the gym doors. Your bestfriend used to your attitude at this point, he lets you be.

You pull your bag on your shoulders as you walk towards the school gates, some students were also on their way out since classes are done. Just as you were about to exit, someone calls your name making you look back.

When you spot who was calling you, confusion took over your face. Wondering why Kim Mingyu is here running after you when he should be inside with the basketball team.

"Hey, glad I caught you" he smiles at you.

Kim Mingyu, the guy who's known across all campus. He's the star student, all the teachers like him, he's never missed a class, he's good at studying, never the troublemaker, has a big circle of friends and an even bigger number of admirers from all across the school.

"What's up, do you need something?" you nonchalantly replied but that didn't deter him one bit

"Yea uh actually I wanted to ask you out" he scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes as he waits for your answer

"Me?"

"Yea, I like you"

"Oh uh thanks. But I'm not really looking for that type of thing right now"

You watch the smile fall from MIngyu's face before it comes back again, it doesn't quite reach his eyes though. You notice.

"Oh"

"Yeah, sorry but uhm goodluck on your game though. I'm gonna go now" you wave goodbye before going your way. Not once turning to look back where Mingyu was left standing.

The rest of your high school life flew by like that. You still mostly kept to yourself, a few close friends, never really wanting to have any eyes on you. Mingyu never contacted you after that. You two acted like strangers once again, his confession something only you and him know.

Present Day

"Did you get the invite?" Dokyeom asks the moments he enters your apartment. After all these years, he's still your bestfriends. Most of your 'friends' from high school you've already lost contact with, you realized you were only friends with them only because you saw them everyday. Not many of them really made the effort to keep in contact, you can't blame them though since you didn't either.

But that's life. People come and go.

"For?"

"Our high school reunion, please tell me you're going"

"I did get it, and no I'm not going"

"What? Why? It'll be fun" he still does this thing where he stomps his feet like a kid when you say no to him, annoying but he's your bestfriend so you learned to put up with it.

"I don't even talk to anyone from high school apart from you"

"I'll be there, you can talk to me" he weakly reasons out, trying to plead with you is like trying to move a cement brick wall. He knows it's a losing battle but he still tries anyways.

"You won't stop bugging me unless I go, won't you?"

"You know me too well"

"Fine, but I'm not staying long"

"3 hours tops"

"2, take it or leave it"

Leave it to Dokyeom to make sure you're actually coming because by 5pm the day of the reunion, he came to your apartment even though you're taking your own car since you don't plan on staying as long as him.

"Oh you actually got ready" he says when you open the door

"I don't want another long message from you, let's go before I change my mind"

The two of you drove separately to the venue, as an introvert you admit when you got there you already want to go home. You see the familiar faces, already dreading the amount of small talks you have to do for the rest of the night. Cursing Dokyeom in your mind.

Your bestfriend didn't even give you a chance to step back inside your car before he's pulling you inside, saying hello to everyone on your way in. He's always been the nicer one between the two of you.

The two of you grab some snacks and drinks before continuing on meddling with your former schoolmates. Your social battery draining drastically by the second when you hear Dokyeom almost scream from beside you,

"Kim Mingyu! Yo dude you made it"

You look over where Dokyeom went, watching him give a bro hug to the guy. There Kim Mingyu stands, still as handsome as ever. A lot of years passed by but he still looks the same, just even better now.

The years have indeed been kind to him.

With everything happening around you, you can't help but feel overwhelmed. A few moments away from sneaking out but Dokyeom catches you once again before you can even give it a try

"Y/N's here too, you remember Mingyu right?"

You wanted to step on your bestfriend's shoes to make him shut up but instead you just shoot him a tight lipped smile before turning to the taller guy,

"Hi"

"Hey, it's been a while. I haven't seen you since... graduation"

"Yea, you too"

End of conversation.

You're still the same, Mingyu thinks. You're still the same girl he liked back then, you're still just as hard to read, still answering with single sentences, still beautiful like the day you broke his heart.

He wonders how you've been since then. Are you dating anyone or are you still out there breaking other guys' heart with your cold demeanor. He's still friends with Dokyeom and last he heard you've been doing okay. No mention of a boyfriend.

You don't give him a chance to ask any question, you say something to Dokyeom before walking towards the door

"Is she alright?" he can't help but ask

"Oh yea, she's being her usual self. It's a miracle I even got her to go tonight so I won't even be surprised if she's about to sneak home now, I'll just call her later"

"You two still close?"

"She's my bestfriend, dude. Of course we are, we're like twins ya know. Anyways how's the cafe going"

Mingyu hangs out with Dokyeom for the rest of the night, they didn't really run out of things to catch up on. He can't help but wonder how two very different people manage to stay close friends. But then again it's Dokyeom, one of the nicest guy he knows. At the end of the day, he's glad you're friends with someone like him.

The next day Dokyeom calls you to bombard you with stories about the reunion that you missed when you came home, he goes on and on about catching up with Mingyu then some other people from your batch you don't even talk to anymore but you listen anyways.

After the phone call, you get ready to go to work. You go on with your routine and before you know it you're done with your 9-5. That goes on for the rest of the week.

Some people hate it but you liked having a routine, it drives you crazy when things don't go your way.

Like tonight, your workmates all but forced you to come with them for afterwork drinks. You wanted to decline but you already done so many times so they made sure you come with them this time.

"Okay okay so what if you're in a room full of all the people you ever liked, who would you go to?"

Everyone take turns to answer until all head turns to you, "Oh me?"

"Yea, come on spill the details girlie we won't tell" one of your workmate jokes, clearly drunk

You take a few more seconds to think before you say your answer

"I guess this guy I rejected in high school"

"What? Oh my gosh whoooo, tell us tell us what happened" they excitedly ask

"Oh no big deal, just a guy. He was nice, like really nice. I liked that about him, but uh I guess high school me wasn't ready for any kind of commitment so I rejected him. I choose him because I want to apologize, that's all"

"Aw did you hear that? that's so cuteee"

"So where is he now?"

"I don't know, I never really kept in touch"

You grab your glass so you can avoid any more questions, after an hour to tell them goodbye since you still have to go to work tomorrow.

And as expected you woke up with a slight headache, even though you wanted to stay in bed for the day you know you can't. You get up and get ready for the day, planning to stop by this cafe your workmates keep on mentioning on your way to work.

Good things it's still early, when you got the cafe there were only a few people inside. You can smell the freshly brewed coffee and pastries on the stand.

"Next, Hi goodmorning what can I get you?"

"Hi, can I get an iced Vanilla Latte and a bagel with cream cheese to go? Thank you" you say your order while the cashier notes it down "Okay, for a moment I'll just get your order ready"

"Sure" you wait on the counter for your order, checking the other pastries and the menu board.

Mingyu was at the back, getting some stocks ready for the day when he spots someone on the counter. He had to do a double take to make sure it was you standing in his cafe, immediately a smile forming on his face as he watch you look at the display case.

You're too lost in your own world to notice him now standing Infront of you so he clears his throat to get your attention, "Can I get you something else, see anything you like?" he asks

He can see you weren't expecting to see him here, out of all places.

What in the twisted fate was this, you think to yourself.

"Oh uh the other barista already took my order" you tell him, Mingyu goes to the other guy telling him something before returning to the register with your order, "One iced vanilla latte and bagel with cream cheese, here you go. Anything else?" he asks again

"I think this is all for now, so how much?"

"On the house" Mingyu says with a smile, makes you wonder if he does this on a regular basis but you shake the thought away.

"What? No, come on I'll feel bad. Tell me how much" you tell Mingyu but he just shakes his head at you

"Free coffee for the pretty lady"

"Do you tell all your lady customers that?" you ask him, the words already out before you can stop yourself. You can feel your cheeks heat up but Mingyu just chuckles, again he shakes his head

"Just you, tell me next time how's our coffee and baked goods are then we'll call it even" he tells you, pointing at the suggestion box

"Are you sure? My workmates recommended this place and they said the coffee is good but I never really went with them" you tell him,

"You work close by?"

"A few blocks from here, I sometimes pass by here but it's always so busy. I guess I got lucky today"

All this time you were this close to where he was and he never knew. Mingyu mentally agrees with you, indeed it is a lucky day because for the first time since he met you you finally said more than one sentence to him.

17 year old Mingyu would be pouting and kicking his feet out of jealousy, he would never believe this day would come but here you are.

"Thank you for the coffee and food, uh see you around"

"You too, Y/N. It's nice to see you again" he smile again, you shoot him a small smile before going your way.

He watches you go out the door, the scene of you walking away hitting him like a Deja vu. A scene from 10 years go playing in head. Just as you were about to exit the door, to turn around to look at him behind the counter then shoot him another smile then you were gone.

This time though Mingyu wasn't left with a heart to mend but something to look forward to. Maybe just maybe this time it'll be his chance.

"You're down bad" Hoshi, his co-owner and other barista, says from beside him

"Huh?"

"Really?? Coffee for the pretty lady? so original" he laughs

"What? I never used that on anyone" Mingyu mumbles, "I know, that's why I said you're down bad. Who is she by the way?"

"Someone very special, call me when she comes back" he pats Hoshi on the shoulder before going to the back to resume his re-stocking duties.

Mingyu didn't want to expect (but he was), he would be lying if he didn't tell Hoshi he'd open tomorrow and man the register just in case you come in early again. He would be lying if he says he looked up every time the bell dings signaling another customer came in only it wasn't you.

It took you a few days before you visited again, and this time luck wasn't on Mingyu's side because he was not on duty.

"Hey, you're Mingyu's friend" Hoshi remembers you from the other day, greeting you with a big smile making his eyes almost disappear. He seems like a warm person, very friendly.

"Yeah, you can say that" you shyly answer him "Oh right sorry, what can I get you?"

"I'll get another iced vanilla latte. The last one you made was really good" you tell him

"Thanks, make sure to drop that inside our box" he jokes "Anything else?"

"Can you recommend any pastry for me to try? They all look so good"

"Honestly, not to be biased, everything's good here but that chocolate cake is extra special. Mingyu makes it himself everyday, want a slice?"

"Sure, sounds great"

Hoshi, you learn his name, goes and make your order like before then returns to the counter "Okay here you go, and the man says it's on the house"

"Huh?" you ask confused "Mingyu said it's on the house if ever you come back"

"Oh I can not not pay, he already said that the last time" you said, already getting your card out

"No really, he insists. And between us, I'd be in bigger trouble if I let you pay. If you want to scold him, feel free to do so and drop it in the box"

You chuckle, finally taking your drink and food "Thanks again, let me write something" you seat on a vacant chair to get a paper from inside your bag, writing a quick note before going back to the counter to drop it in the box. You say goodbye to Hoshi before going.

You feel your phone ring in your pocket, Dokyeom's name flashing on the screen "Barbeque later"

"Are you asking or are you telling me?"

"I'll come by after work" then he hangs up.

A few hours later, your bestfriend shows up with a few grocery bags and a loud mouth. You two catch up on what you missed on the few days you didn't get to talk, he likes staying up to date with your life even though nothing really ever happens. He's like the brother you never expected but you're now stuck with.

"Do you have any sweets here, chocolate or something" you hear him scrummaging through your kitchen

"I have a cake slice in the fridge"

Dokyeom finds it then walks back to the dining table, setting it in the middle to share between the two of you

"Oh gosh this is so good, where did you buy this?"

"At Mingyu's cafe, did you know he had one?" you ask back, Dokyeom's head springs up to look at you

"You went there? Mingyu did mention he had a cafe. So you two talked?"

"Yea he was there the first time I went, it was really nice the coffee is good. The other barista said Mingyu baked this" you tell him, taking another bite

"You know, you never told me why you rejected him"

Dokyeom suddenly mentioning that made you cough out loud, "You said you liked him right? Then all of a sudden you were telling me you rejected him"

"Are we really talking about this? It's been 10 years"

"Yea"

"Like I said, I didn't have the time and I got overwhelmed. Everyone knew who Mingyu was, I didn't want that kind of attention on me too. I guess 17 year old me got scared"

Dokyeom listens to you, watching you stab the piece of cake before taking a bite "For what it's worth, he really liked you back then. He even asked me what your favorites were, I said you liked cakes more than ice cream"

Back at the cafe, Mingyu comes in after Hoshi closes so he can start on baking tomorrow's batch of cake. He's in the kitchen getting the ingredients ready while Hoshi cleans the display case and front of the house.

He was humming to himself when he hears the kitchen door swing open, "Oh by the way Y/N dropped by today"

Mingyu forgets the number he was on, now he has to measure the flour all over again. He turns to look at his friend with an annoyed expression, Hoshi holds his hands in the air

"Hey don't blame me, not my fault she went here on your only day off. But I did say it's on the house courtesy of you, so you're welcome"

"Atleast you did something right" Mingyu says

"And she got the chocolate cake, she also dropped something in the box. Go check it when you're done, I'm going now" he waves goodbye before going to the office to do a few more things before leaving Mingyu alone at the shop.

He tries to focus first on what he's doing, going back to measuring the ingredients and putting it in the oven before going to the counter to get the box.

How will find your note here when there's about 30 others in here, he's not so sure. He reads through a few of them when finally he finds one

Coffee is great, maybe even better with company. On me next time I come back, thanks Gyu :)

He knows it's from you because of the nickname, a lot of people from highschool used to call him that. It may be common but it sounded extra special when you're the one calling him that. He takes the note and put it in his pocket before putting the others back.

Tonight's cake about to be extra good.

When Mingyu comes in the shop the next day he was expecting you to come, he wasn't going to lie about it this time.

It might seem silly but he never really got over his crush on you. There's something about you that he admired so much, even though people said you're the 'ice queen' with your stoic expression and one line answers he thinks you're just always straight to the point.

He never harbored hard feelings even after you rejected him, he understood your reasons. He knew you were focused on your studies but he just wanted to shoot his shot.

That day when he asked you, he already saw you in the gym before the game. He thought you were going to watch only for you to disappear a few minutes before they started, he chased after you with high hopes only to be handed his heart back in a few pieces. But even then he still liked you, he continued on admiring you from afar. Cheering you on your academic victories and cheering for you on your graduation day when you gave out your valedictorian speech.

He liked watching you achieve your goals, you always had that laser focus and determination. The entire class knew you deserved it.

Now a decade later, you're still the same in some ways. The night during the reunion party, he didn't expect to see you there. You didn't age a day, you still look so beautiful. You now carry this confident but reserved aura around you, he admits he was a bit intimidated to approach you so he thanks Dokyeom for being there.

The day passed by and still no sign of you, when he turns the open sign over to close he lets out the biggest sigh. Looking at the last slice of cake on the stand, ironically very similar to him. Waiting for you to come by.

He's busy mopping the floors to notice he didn't lock the front door, you just got out of work and decided to check if the cafe was still open. The sign said closed but you spot Mingyu inside so you try to knock on the glass door but he couldn't hear you so you let yourself in.

You walk closer to where he was before tapping him on the back making the tall man jump up in the air with mop in hand.

Mingyu turns around, holding his hand to his chest as he looks at you blinking back at him "Fuck you scared the shit out of me, sorry" he mumbles the apology after letting a few curses out

"Sorry, I didn't mean too. I knocked but you couldn't hear. Uhm is it a bad time?"

"No, I mean no it's good. I was just cleaning up. Do you want anything?" he asks you, putting the mop in the bucket before walking towards the counter with you following. He stands by the cashier while you stand on the other side

You spot the last piece of cake like it's calling your name, Mingyu following your gaze. Smiling to himself while he waits for your order.

"I'll get the last piece of chocolate cake, please. Hoshi recommended it yesterday and it was really food. Glad I got the last one" you smile

Little did you know he made that recipe with you in mind. He knew you liked chocolate cakes. "Chocolate cake coming up, anything else? Our cookies are good too, let me get some for you"

"As long as you let me pay for it"

"Not a chance, miss" Mingyu smirks, putting the remaining cookies in a box along with the cake before walking back to face you

"Not this again, you already got it for me the last few times I was here. How will you run a business if you keep on giving it out for free"

"I don't always do it" Mingyu shrugs

"Just let me pay please" you say giving him your card but he just pushes it back

"No"

"Mingyu"

He smiles, looking over at you. For a second you were taken back by his stare. The only way you can describe it was sweet, he looked so sweet like the cake he baked. He looked so soft and gentle like he wouldn't break a heart.

"Come back next time, I'll let you pay"

"You said that the last time"

"Then keep coming back, maybe one day I'll let you" he confidently tells you, the underlying message of wanting to see you again lies in the air. He holds his breath waiting for your next words,

"If you don't let me pay the next time, I won't come back" you threaten him cutely, finally taking the bag from him. Mingyu smiles walking to the other side to walk you out.

Before you reach the door you stop, "Actually, there's something I need to tell you" you turn to look up at him

"Go ahead, I'm listening"

You take a few seconds, again surprised with how he's staring right at you. Like he's seeing all of you.

"I would like to apologize for what happened before, you know the whole rejection thing. I know it's a bit overdue, actually it's very overdue but I've always wanted to say sorry. Someone asked me if I was in a room full of all the people I liked, who would I run to I said you. That's because I wanted to say sorry... so yea. I'm sorry" you mumble, now you're looking at his chest. Too shy to look at him

"You like me?" Mingyu mumbles

This make you look at him again, "That's all you heard?"

"I mean I appreciate the thought, apology accepted. Now back to my question.. I heard that right, right?"

"You're not wrong"

You and your one liner answers.

"So how many are there in the room" he asks, now he's teasing you. You can't help but scowl at him, rolling your eyes.

"It's a very short list and you're missing my point"

"No I get it, and no need to apologize. I respect your decision back then and I still do now. No need to say sorry over that, no hard feelings" he smiles at you.

Mingyu wanted to reach out and hold your hand but he stops himself. He didn't want to mess this again with you, if this is finally his second chance then he's not going to do anything to mess it up.

"I really am, it's been 10 years but I just wanted to tell you that. So yea.. that's uh that's all"

"Can I ask something?"

"What?" you ask back "Who else would be in the room with me, do I know the others"

"Oh my gosh! It's a very short list"

He laughs at your answer, reaching up to tuck the loose hair than fell on your face behind your ear.

"I believe you, tell me about it next time you get coffee"

"Seriously making me rethink about coming back here" you pout, this made Mingyu's heart pound like crazy. A hundred shots of espresso got nothing on you. Only you can make him feel this way, so alive.

"I'll bake you a cake" he bargains

"Chocolate?"

"All yours, on the house"

[imbored1201]

Hi your stories are so good..can i make a request of barca reader getting into fight but hiding from her teammates the injury?? Thanks

Don’t Touch The Sunglasses

Barcelona Femeni x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

 

You hated to admit it, but growing up, you had always gotten into fights, whether it was against the boys on your team for making fun of you. Thankfully,  you were the coach's favorite, so he turned blind eye to it, and the boys had to much pride to admit to their parents they got hit by a girl. 

Or if it was even your own 'friends' who pushed you relentlessly and tried crushing your dreams to become a football player. 

Alexia noticed this when she saw you always talking back to the people in the stands who yelled insults to get into the players heads. It never got into your head, but you just wanted an excuse to argue with someone. 

But she still told you off for it since it was also getting you a mixture of hate and love. People thought you should be the mature one and ignore it; others were happy you were standing up for yourself.

————

You went out to the market to get some candy, despite Alexia telling you no because you had to stick to the diet. She even called you to threaten that you would have to walk to Patri's if you didn't get home in 10 minutes, and the walk to Patri's from your guys place was about 15 minutes. Nothing compared to the running you do, but outside of practice, you were the laziest person. 

You huffed seeing Alexia's car wasn't there when you finally got home. You even tried calling her, but she declined. You were a little mad; you didn't even buy your candy because you were in a rush to get back. 

You were in between waiting for it to get dark so Alexia would pick you up since she hated when you walked in the dark or just walking it to finally get away from Alexia's overbearing nature. 

You chose the second one. 

————

You were stopped by fans five minutes into the walk. You expected it considering you were walking by a school football field, and it was the weekend, so little kids loved going to play since it was the only time the big kids weren't there. 

You even talked to them and were even going to join them for a mini game until a lady came up to you and pushed the little kids away to grab you. "Sign this for my kid," she said rudely, shoving a jersey of yours into your arms.

You tore your arm away from her grip, glaring at her. "Could you not touch me and apologize to the kids. There was no need to push them like that." You scolded her with the tone Alexia always used to scold you. 

She got angry. Angrier when you gave her back the jersey and paid attention to the kids again. "Don't fucking talk to me like that," she got in your face. You could smell the alcohol. "You're drunk and embarrassing yourself in front of all these people," you told her, walking away from her. 

You knew you had to get yourself out of this situation, so you apologized to the kids but promised to come by next Saturday at the same time to play with them before walking away. 

You weren't even able to walk five steps before you got sucker punched from the back. Her punch getting you right in the eye. 

'Alexia is going to kill me' was the only thought you had in that moment. Thankfully, you were able to gain your composure again to push the woman away from you, but it didn't phase her as she tackled you to the ground. 

You sighed in relief when one of the kids parents quickly pulled her off of you and held her to the ground while one of the kids called the police. 

"Fuck," you mumbled, grabbing your camera to look at your eye. That lady was crazy, but she had a heck of a punch. You groaned when you saw it was already bruising up. You wanted to leave, but you also wanted to press charges on the drunk to get the last laugh. 

You made your report, and you were let go after an hour of a bunch of paperwork. You huffed in annoyance as you started jogging to Patri's house now. You had three missed calls from Alexia and a bunch of texts from Ingrid and Fridolina. You quickly texted them back, saying you were fine.

You also had to make another stop at a store to get a random pair of sunglasses. It was probably making the whole situation more obvious, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

————

You let out deep breaths as you stopped in front of Patri's house. You were sure you had another bruise on your stomach from that tackle. You quickly knocked on the door, and it was opened by Fridolina, who pulled you into a tight hug. You let out a sigh of relief, thanking it wasn't Alexia or Irene. 

"Where were you?" She questioned, giving you a water bottle, noticing how out of breath you were. "I got caught up," you mumbled, hugging everyone you passed. 

No one questioned the glasses, but they did stare weirdly. You noticed Alexia staring you down, but you were intercepted by Salma and Ona before she could actually come up to you and question you. 

You were shoved outside by the group of lunatics. Cata was making a bond fire while Pina and Patri were shoving marshmallows in their mouths.

"Alexia was really mad," Salma commented. "I'm surprised she hasn't tore your ear off," Ona added, patting Patri's back when she started choking on the marshmallows. 

Once Patri's little choking session was done, it was her turn to bug you. She always said it was her role as a big sister. 

"Could you not" you pushed Patri away from you as she tried grabbing the glasses. "You look stupid; is this one of your things to impress a girl again?" You huffed at that and pushed her away again. 

Then Pina came from behind and jumped on your back to get them off. "Leave my glasses alone," you whined, getting Pina off. 

You quickly ran back inside and locked the door, so the girls were stuck outside. Patri started pounding on the door. 

You shook your head at Marta, who tried moving you to open it. "They started it." "Be the mature one for once," she told you, opening it when you gave up. 

Right when she opened it, Patri and Pina pounced on you, tackling you to the ground. "Marta!" You yelled, reaching out for her. 

"Hey!" You yelled as your glasses got snatched off your face. Patri and Pina jumped up, seeing the black eye. "Alexia!" Pina yelled, grabbing your face. 

Marta finally noticed what they were freaking out about and pulled them off. If that lady didn't give you a bruise on your stomach, Patri and Pina definitely did. "Come here," she said sternly. You quickly listened and followed her to the couch, trying to come up with some excuse about this black eye. 

————

After what felt like 100 'what happened to your eye' later and everyone grabbing your face to observe your eye, Alexia finally got to talking. 

"Are you going to tell me the truth?" She asked first, and you thought for a little bit and nodded. "Of course, I'll tell you the truth. I was running, and some kids started running beside me to get a picture, and I got distracted and ran into a pole," you explained. 

Alexia's face stayed stern; you hated that she could easily tell when someone was lying, especially when that someone was you. "No, soy estùpida, tell me the truth."

"Some drunk who wanted this pretty face" you tried to lighten up the mood, but that just earned you a smack to the back of the head. 

"Can you not hit her, She's obviously been hit enough." Ingrid scolded Mapi, who was the one who delivered that blow. "I only got hit once and tackled," you shrugged, punching Mapi's shoulder.

You looked at Alexia. "It actually wasn't my fault; she was being rude and even pushed some kids away that wanted a picture with me. I could tell she was drunk, so I tried getting away, but she punched me from behind and tackled me."

Irene gave you an ice pack. "And you tried hiding it?" She questioned, "It's embarrassing; I never lose a fight," everyone in the room groaned.

"Really, all because your ego was hurt." Ingrid couldn't believe her ears, but she did feel for you.  

"Technically, you won, kid; it was a sucker punch." Your eyes brightened at Mapi's words. "Hell yeah," you said, standing up to high five Patri, Salma, and Pina. 

Alexia grabbed you by the shoulder and gave you a look that made you sit down again. "Is she in jail?" You nodded. "I pressed charges; they said they would call me.

Alexia sighed in relief. "I still can't believe she punched you." You could tell she was still angry, but not at you anymore. 

"Now that this is addressed, can I please have ice cream?" Usually, when you got hurt or were sad, Alexia let you eat whatever you wanted, even though she was strict about keeping a healthy diet. 

"Fine, but only ice cream." "Yes captain."

————

Now you were happy that lady punched you; you had an amazing story to tell fans when they asked you what happened; the team was babying you more than usual and getting you whatever you wanted; and that lady was going to prison.

[cosmopretty]

First Date

Kamora Arnold x Fem

( Long blurb )

Synopsis: You and KK have been talking for weeks now, the two of you have gotten really close even kissed a few times. Now KK asked you out on a date, your first date.

The past few weeks you have gotten to know KK Arnold one of UConn’s woman’s basketball players. She was sweet and funny and you both matched each other’s personality’s well. It was her best friend Paige who got the both of you to start talking, she gave KK your number and the rest is history.

You and KK have hung out a few times getting food or hanging with the team but never a real date. Today is your first real date with the girl, she won’t tell you where the two of you are going only saying to dress comfortable and nice. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself or worse.

The two of you have also never kissed each other yet which was nerve wracking. Deciding on jeans and a black tube top with gold jewelry, your hair thrown in a slick back ponytail. The text message said she would be here at 3:30pm you have five minutes. Taking a deep breath in the mirror you do a once over before hearing a loud honk. Rushing to put you shoes on and grabbing your purse you head out seeing KK walking out of the drivers seat towards you.

Kamora smiles at you walking up to you “You look beautiful” she admits looking you up and down.

“Thank you KK you look good too” You compliment her looking her up and down before getting into the car as she opened the passenger door for you. She gets in the drivers seat and starts driving down the block.

Her hand moves closer to yours fingers itching to touch yours “So where are we going?” you ask her looking at her. She shrugs “Only the best place ever” her hand moves closer to yours slowly, almost scared to make the first move.

You grab her hand playing with her fingers “Please tell me come on” you beg her, she turns her head to look at you before holding your hand in your lap.

“We’re going to this arcade it’s so fun trust me ma” KK says squeezing your hand. You nod it was like KK to take you somewhere childish like an arcade, you were still excited to have fun and play with the girl.

The whole car ride down to the arcade you could feel how excited Kamora was, it eased your nerves significantly. After the ten minute drive of the two of you talking about childhood memories at the arcade. She parks the car and runs to your side opening the door for you “Come on hurry” KK says grabbing your hand dragging you inside. She quickly buys two cards with tokens for the two of you.

KK couldn’t shut up about how she used to play the basketball game with her friends as a kid, the whole way to the place. Letting go of your hand she swipes both your cards “Ready one two- go” KK says starting to shoot the balls in the hoop scoring over and over. You follow her and shoot the balls as fast as you can trying to score.

By the end of the game KK won 58-45 and you groan “Okay this is not far you a D1 basketball player and I’m not, that’s cheating” you complain pouting yo at the girl. She mimicked you “You did good come let get tickets so I can win you a stuffed bear” she says dragging you to another game.

The both of you go back forth versing each other in any game you can and winning tons of tokens. You spin a wheel with KK crossing her fingers behind you jumping up and down on her two feet, anxiously “one thousand please please please” she says aloud closing her eyes when the wheel starts to stop.

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WE WON WE WON” You cheer clapping your hands, KK reluctantly moves her hands from her eyes and smiles hugging you “We did it we’re so lucky” she says grabbing the tickets falling out of the machine.

You smile and you guys grab your tickets and go over to the front desk. The worker grabs them and points at a shelf filled with giant stuffed animals. KK looks over at you for a moment remembering you saying how much you loved bears. She wraps her arm around your waist pointing to the big brown teddy bear “That one please” KK says looking down at you for confirmation.

The worker hands you the teddy bear and the two of you walk out of the arcade, you struggling behind her holding a teddy bear half the size of you. KK opens the back door grabbing the bear from you and putting the teddy bear inside before looking down at you.

She licks her lips her hand coming to hold your cheek “I had a lot of fun today” she admits looking down at your lips subtly. You nod “Yeah me too” you say quietly looking down her lips before moving closer. She follows your actions and slowly closes the gab between you too.

Her lips touch your softly and she tastes like cherry chapstick, you grab her bicep your lips moving against hers perfectly.

You pull away slowly your noses touching “I really like you KK like a lot” you say softly bring your lip as you wait for her response. A smirk forms on her face “I really like you too ma” she says planting another kiss on your lips quickly.

That was the day your relationship with her first started, and you had your first kiss with her.

@lcufeymuse your KK request 🥳

[bothoutsiders]

ok so you know the hero gets kidnapped and no one comes and the villain gets pissed on their captive’s behalf and treats them better than their former associates did trope ?

i need that with early red hood jason and robin tim

jason steals tim expecting the calvary to come racing in

but ,,, no one comes

and ok jason can understand why timbit's little baby hero team didn't come

superboy, wonder girl and impulse are all currently off planet

but the batfam isn't

the girls are in hong kong for whatever reason but dick and bruce are across town from where him and tim are

he's had tim for over a week they have to have realized that he's missing at this point

and now jason's like "actually fuck them i'm keeping you"

hello anon! thank you for your request. i think it came a bit small; first jaytim thing i type with my new keyboard B) but it was fun. it's a bit domestic tho, hope you enjoy :)

--

It has been a little over a week since Robin got here. 

It somehow felt like those parents who forgot to pick up their kids at school. Robin had been at the mercy of Red Hood for a week and a few days and there was no sign of anyone coming to rescue him anytime soon.

Jason even went through his notes, every piece of information he had, and his own plan. Many times.

Something didn’t click.

When he kidnapped Robin, he knew Batman would come for him. Knew there would be a big fight, some spilled blood and maybe broken bones. He then would be able to torture Robin in front of Bruce and make him beg, maybe even cry. Satiate his own thirst for vengeance with Bruce’s suffering.

But nothing like that happened.

Robin’s friends were not around and Jason knew that. It was excusable but… What was the explanation for Batman to ignore this? Was he trying to play some kind of sick game with his mind or did he actually not care about Tim?

He didn’t even send Nightwing either. There was no Justice League. There was nobody.

No one.

What was the point of torturing or doing something to Robin if Bruce wasn’t here to witness it?

“Do you have golden grahams?”

Jason turned to look at the teen and thought about what was happening. There was no way Bruce hadn’t realised his new Robin was missing. Nor that Jason had kidnapped him and now was even feeding him.

“No, but I can buy some later.” He said as he placed a windowed box on the table and pushed it toward Tim slowly. “I got you donuts though.”

“Oh?” Robin looked at the box, interested when he had heard it was donuts. Right now he was wearing Jason’s clothes and had come out from a nice shower. “They’re from  Holesome Dough! Great!”

Jason watched him devour one after another while he thought about the situation. He was definitely not imagining things. It was happening.

He looked down and noticed Tim’s bare feet, some drops of his wet hair making a mess around. “I’ve told you to wear shoes and to dry your hair properly. I’m not going to clean that.”

Tim looked down for a few moments before he’d go and sit down in a chair, enjoying his snack.

Stupid Batman was ignoring his own Robin, who was definitely in danger. If Jason were completely fucked up, right now he would have had Tim’s head on display and probably had sent some parts of his body to Bruce, just as a silly joke.

Bruce knew where he was and didn’t even care!

He didn’t care.

Jason rubbed his eyes, tired and frustrated. “I’m not really surprised. Just disappointed.”

“About what?” Tim turned to look at him, a crumb on his upper lip. “Oh. I’ll dry my hair after this. You want some?” He offered him the donut he was eating since it was the last one.

“He’s not coming, is he?” This felt so familiar.

“Bruce?” Tim shrugged. “He might think I have it under control.”

“Replacement, I beat you up. You passed out as you bled when I took you with me. If you were able to handle it, you would’ve contacted him. He didn’t even call you. What’s his excuse?” He snorted and took a seat. “He’s across town, yeah, Gotham is big but not that big that he can’t come to rescue his sidekick.”

Of course it pissed him off. Days prior Jason had gone to check if Batman was around, to make sure he wasn’t out of Gotham doing something else that stopped him from coming to rescue his young, new soldier. The worst of all this? Batman was in Gotham.

It made Jason furious.

This Robin could have the same ending as he did, history would repeat and Bruce didn’t give a fuck about it. It didn’t seem as if Batman wanted a Robin, at least not one to last.

He just can’t be responsible like a proper adult, maybe that’s why he doesn’t have children or pets. Maybe this is why he doesn’t have a family.

He snorted, so close to pulling from his own hair. If someone has a sidekick, they teach them, they protect them. Where was Batman when he was needed? With how things went, Jason suspected that Bruce decided to give Tim to him. As those who throw meat to wild dogs, to keep them busy, keep them away.

“Fuck it. Fuck Bruce, fuck Dick, fuck everyone, I’m keeping you.”

[riki-riks-chick]

how wld enha be if they had kids with yn?

Heeseung:

Heeseung probably wants his kid to have as much fun as possible while also keeping him respectful. He'd play games with your son, take him out for ice cream, basically anything a "fun" parent would do. If your son ever accidentally broke something in the house while they were playing around, Heeseung would be calm. "Hey, don't cry.. Mommy won't be mad.. Accidents happen."

Heeseung would the take the blame for it, but you'd know that your son did it anyway. In the end you both cheer your kid up with kissed and cuddles.

Jay:

Jay is the type to be a total stay at home dad. He'd get your son to and from school everyday, making him the best lunches with heartfelt notes. Your son is probably a mama's boy though, so evenings are spent consoling and distracting the child until you get home for dinner. "Come on, mommy will be home soon. When she gets back we can have dinner and then I'll play my guitar for you."

He most likely succeeds in keeping your child happy and after dinner, you're all smiling and laughing as Jay plays his guitar. The night ends with you both tucking your son in.

Jake:

Jake is the energetic dad that'll do anything for his daughter. He'd treat you both like royalty. Every weekend, you guys all walk Layla together, getting ice cream before spending time at home together.

Jake is the type to let his daughter paint his toes, laughing and giggling. "Wait! Make my pinky toe blue!"

He'd laugh and giggle endlessly with you both, giving you and your daughter a bunch of kisses and hugs to remind you how much he loves you both.

Sunghoon:

Sunghoon would be a very protective father. He'd take you and your daughter shopping, buying you guys whatever you ask for, all the while death staring anyone who steps too close to either of you. "Hoonie, baby.. We're fine. You don't have to stare down every guy that walks past me." You'd reassure, giving him a kiss to his cheek.

"Baby.. Don't mind me. I'm just making sure nothing happens to my favorite girls."

He stays alert but you and your daughter eventually manage to crack a smile from him by trying on silly hats and clothes in a store.

Sunoo:

Sunoo is an absolute sweetheart towards you, so I doubt he'd be any different towards your daughter. He'd probably make a whole day out of taking her on a date, going as far as taking her to a nail salon and getting his nails painted pink to match hers. You'd probably be jealous that they went out without you, but Sunoo makes it better by coming home with your favorite flowers, your favorite food, and a big hug and kiss.

You'd immediately realize that he's not only the best dad but the best husband/boyfriend as well. "You didn't think I'd forget the wonderful woman who made me a father, did you?"

Jungwon:

Jungwon is another energetic parent. If his son is playing sports, he's at EVERY game. Never missing a single one. Your kids is probably easily excited just like his dad, so you're used to hearing random yelling in the house when they're spending time together. "Baby look! He just scored!" Jungwon would be the most loving and supportive parent whether your child was really good or not.

"Your team won! Let's go get dinner to celebrate!" You'd love watching Jungwon parent because he's effortlessly good at it. He'd never have you in question as to why you're with him.

Riki:

Riki is basically your big baby. He loves being a dad, and having become a trainee and debuting at a younger age, he wants to make sure your son has as much fun as possible before his schooling days. You're often left to be the disciplinarian whenever something bad happens because Riki physically cannot bring himself to yell at your son. Your son loves you just as much though, even when you're upset because he broke something.

"Let's have ice cream before dinner tonight. Mommy is working late today."

Overall, Riki is a very good parent. Even when he's bending the rules a bit.

[sometimesanalice]

Like I Can (Part 1)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fuff, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 3.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 2

(We’re kicking of Valentine’s Day a bit early❣️ Enjoy!)

“I’m all for growing the sport, but Brady buying an MLP team is ruining the integrity of the league. He may be the GOAT of football, but he has nothing on Ben John’s world-class pickleball game,” your date Max passionately states from his spot across from you at the Italian place he had recommended.

Or was his name Mac?

He’d already told you all about the CRBN paddle drama. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had already prepared a PowerPoint presentation on the topic complete with transitions and color-coded charts. He seems the type.

And he had yet to ask you a single question about yourself all evening.

You can tell he is gearing up for the next part of his rant, when your phone lights up on the table, the ringer on higher than you realized.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I thought I had this on silent. It’s my mom, I should probably take this,” you apologize to him, your phone already halfway raised to your ear.

“Hey, kid, how’s it going?”

“Hi Mom, I’m with someone right now. Is everything ok?” You let a little worry tinge the tone of your voice.

“Seriously?” Rooster drolly rasps on the other end of the line, “Are we actually doing this?”

“Oh no! Is she alright?” You wouldn’t consider yourself actress, but you think you’re really selling the performance with the way you widen your eyes and how you make your voice go a little tighter and higher.

“Yup, seems like we’re really doing this. What’s it this time, kid? Did grandma slip on a banana peel and then get run over by a reindeer?” You can practically feel his eyes rolling as he begrudgingly goes along with you.

“Oh my goodness, that sounds serious! How would that even happen?” you ask, shaking your head in in faux shock determined to really sell the act.

“Is everything ok?” Max-Mac whispers to you from across the table. 

His profile didn’t raise any red flags when you’d swiped on him. If anything, he’d seemed a bit more of the beige flag type. Your chats had been fine, he seemed fine, so why not meet up for a date?

What you didn’t realize until it was too late was that “Sports Enthusiast” actually translated to “Pickleball Fanatic”.

“Hold on, Mom,” you hear Rooster scoff as you pull the phone away from your ear. “I’m so sorry, there’s been a family emergency. It’s my grandmother. I really need to go,” you announce to Mac-Max grabbing your purse from the back of the chair. “Thank you so much for understanding. And good luck at your pickleball tournament!” you call back to him as you hustle towards the front door.

“I take it you’ve made your escape?” You can hear the humor in his voice, your antics are nothing new to him.

“Oh my god, was that seriously only thirty minutes? He wouldn’t stop talking about pickleball, Rooster. Anytime I tried to change the subject, he found a way to circle right back to it!” You tell him as you attempt to dig your keys out from where they were buried in your bag. “And then, he pulled up the leg of his jeans and said, I kid you not: ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t an ankle monitor, I’m just wearing my ankle weights.’ Who does that?”

“Just come to the Hard Deck. You should have canceled like I told you to in the first place. Bob and Coyote got back the other day, so everyone’s here. Well, almost everyone,” he says pointedly. “We’re more fun anyways. And Hangman has been harassing me about you, something about your fluke of a win?”

You’d kicked Jake’s ass the last time you played darts with him. Although in his defense, he had been pretty drunk that night and it was a less than fair game since Phoenix would distract him while Fanboy moved your darts on the board.

You wouldn’t be challenging him to a rematch anytime soon. Not unless the odds were in your favor, it was better to keep him on his toes and his ego in check.

Thankful for the princess parking you managed to snag when you first arrived, you unlock your car and toss your bag into the passenger seat before climbing in. Breathing out a sigh of relief to be done with Mac-Max once inside.

“You back in your car yet?” Rooster asked. He was such a worrier, but you can’t say it bothered you. You liked knowing he cared.

“Yeah, just got in.”

“Ok good, see you in a few. Drive safe, kid.”

Thirty minutes later Natasha was sliding a cold, frothy pint in front of you with a sympathetic look.

It wasn’t too busy at the Hard Deck yet, but it was still early in the evening. You knew it would pick up soon, and before long Penny would be ringing her bell on some rowdy unsuspecting customer.

“Ankle weights?” She asked, trying and failing to keep from laughing at your expense.

“Seriously, Rooster?” you shoot a glare in his direction, “Where’s the loyalty?”

“What? She was right there when I called you. A request that was your idea, if you remember,” he said as he walked up to you, squeezing your shoulder before sliding his arm around you in greeting. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t already tell Phoenix about all your escapades. You really know how to pick ‘em, kid.”

You’ve known Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw since before you had braces back when you were still wearing your hair in two braids. Your moms had been on the school PTA together at the time and had hit it off immediately.

He hadn’t been too happy about being forced to hang out with the kid who was couple years younger than him, especially one who was so clearly enamored with the cute older boy. While you’d outgrown that phase, for the most part, somethings stuck- like the nickname. 

And over the years you’d formed your own bond outside of the forced proximity of your mothers’ friendship.

He’d taught you how to throw a punch, the different ways to pitch a baseball, and to drive a stick shift. You’d taught him how to whistle with his fingers, to play Nerts, and to tie a tie (after asking your dad to teach you).

The give and take was easy with him, you both showed up for the other.

You were there the night he drunkenly fell through the glass patio door at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party. As one of the only sober people there since he wouldn’t let you drink, or let anyone else give you alcohol for that matter, you were the one to take him to the ER. “Don’t worry, kid,” he had slurred, pressing the Washington High t-shirt that you’d found in your trunk to his face to stop the bleeding, “Looks s’worse than it feels.” And you were the one to stay with him as he was stitched up. The evidence of that night still unmistakable on his face.

He was there for you when your parents had sat you down and told you they were getting a divorce. A hurricane of angst and grief, you hadn’t left your room for anything other than school for over a week when he’d let himself in your room one afternoon. Rubbing small circles on your back as he’d let you cry for a bit, he didn’t even tease you about the stains you’d left behind on his shirt. And then he’d herded you into his crappy car and drove you to the slightly sketchy amusement park an hour away with the Tilt-A-Whirl and the giant corndogs. And when he’d told you “It’s going to be ok, kid” on the ride back home, you believed him.

You had been there for him when his mom passed, and all during that dark period after when he was set on self-destruction after his fallout with Maverick. While he had tried to push everyone away, you were always the type to hold on tightly to the people that mattered.

And then life had sent you on different directions. First when he went to college and then when you did. Next for him the Navy, and then you with your own career, both of you always in motion. You two shared a connection the way people with a long history do, the kind where you could go months without talking but knowing the other person is always right there if you need them. Your camaraderie sustained by texts, email, and the occasional FaceTime.

A long-distance friendship for over a decade.

So when your boss had approached you about a promotion that was dependent on you relocating to the West Coast, you thanked whatever kismet in the universe had you packing for San Diego where he was permanently stationed.

The break up with your boyfriend at the time was entirely too amicable considering how long you had been together. He was nice, the sex was nice, your life together was nice. You had all but signed the paperwork for your promotion when you told him, but he didn’t see himself as a west-coaster and you couldn’t envision yourself as anything but. Whether you had stayed together all that time out of convenience or complacency, you still couldn’t say.

It was easy to fall back into the comfort of your friendship with Rooster. Although the lanky teen you had known was replaced with a mustache sporting well-built man courtesy of the Navy. One that had left you feeling confusingly flustered on more than one occasion, and forced to cycle through your mental highlight reel of embarrassing teen Rooster moments to keep from your mind from wandering.

He’d helped you find your apartment, taught you about avoiding the 15 Northbound, and showed you where the best place in town to get tacos was. The transition was made easy with him by your side as he introduced you to his team members who quickly folded you into their group as one of their own.

That was a little over a year ago. You liked this new life of yours in San Diego.

And while the dating pool of men you could swipe through was much larger, well, some things never changed.

“You don’t get it, Rooster. You’re surrounded by absurdly hot Naval eye candy all day,” you complained gesturing to Natasha, she raised her beer to you as thanks in response. “While you’re getting women throwing themselves at you because of the gold wings, I’m fighting for my life on these stupid apps where all the men on there are posing with fish. It’s brutal!”

You’d need to officially call things off with Max-Mac later, thinking to yourself how glad you were that you never gave him your real number, and instead signing up for a Google voice number. You were just not cut out for the competitive pickleball lifestyle.

“Bradshaw, why don’t you set her up? It’s not like we don’t know enough people who would be better options than these fish men,” Natasha asked, like it was the most logical thing in the world, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, Bradshaw. Tell Nat your super logical reasons for leaving your longtime friend to fend for herself.” You knew where this was heading, so you took a long swig of the beer Phoenix had brought you.

“Seriously, not this again.” His arm that was around you was removed in favor for pinching the bridge of his nose and looking up to the ceiling like it would spare him from the conversation.

“You started it, now tell her.”

“I need another damn drink if we’re going to do this,” Rooster mumbled.

“Me too,” chimed Natasha, clearly reveling in his misery.

“Make that three. I need to catch up.” You hadn’t even stuck around long enough to get a drink at the restaurant, and now you were ready to let loose a bit.

He grunts out some unintelligible thing and then stalks off to the bar shaking his head.

“I’m an upstanding citizen, I pay my taxes, I make a mean peanut butter brownie, and I always drive him around when the Bronco is in the shop for a tune up. It’s literally the least he could do,” you say to Phoenix as you watch him chat with Penny as she works to grab the fresh bottles.

“Oh, so this is thing,” Natasha says decidedly when she eyes the six beers he’s carrying back to the table, three bottles held by the neck in each of his large hands. His classic Hawaiian shirt fluttering with every step, your eyes briefly drifting down to his defined waist.

“Sure is,” you confirm, drawing out the word. Downing the rest of the beer from your pint glass before reaching for one of the new bottles Rooster was divvying out amongst your trio, “I’ve never asked him for anything-”

“That is a boldfaced lie. And you know it,” he cuts in, as he hands you a granola bar from his pocket, that he must have snagged from Penny. “You definitely asked me to set you up with Kyle Cooke from my baseball team in high school. I didn’t do it then, and I’m not doing it now,” he declared, pointing at you with an accusatory finger to further drive the statement home.

“Reasons being?” Natasha wheedled, a mischievous smirk on her face. You could tell she was eating this up, there were two things Natasha Trace loved most in this world: juicy gossip and giving Rooster a hard time.  

Ever the showman, he dramatically lifts up a finger, “First of all, everyone I know is an asshole.”

“I am offended on Bob’s behalf,” you countered, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite, annoyed. Hangman might fit the description, but certainly not Bob.

“Two,” he continues on, raising a second finger, and ignoring you completely as if you hadn’t just made a very valid point, “Let’s say I set you with a friend and then you end up hating them. Then you’ll judge me for being friends with them, we’ll argue, and eventually we won’t be friends anymore. Or even worse, I set you up with someone, you hit it off and date for a while. What happens when you break up? I’m left having to pick sides and walk on eggshells around you guys about the other person.”

“God, you’re such a overthinker. That all sounds totally rational, you drama queen,” you look to Phoenix for agreement, but she’s busy typing out a text message on her phone.

“And three, it’s messy as fuck. And I don’t need to hear about your trophy of a one-night stand.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, “That was one time! It wasn’t a trophy it was a gold medal.”

“Wait, what?” Confusion coloring Natasha’s features. 

“One time this guy gave me one of those plastic gold medal things on a lanyard, kind of like the ones they give out at kids soccer games, after we hooked up. I mean, kicked him out right away, but I did keep the medal. It was a good confidence boost,” you shrug.  It wasn’t exactly a high point moment for you.

After that encounter you’d definitely started scrutinizing every profile a bit harder before swiping right, or at least you thought you had been. In your defense, at least Max-Mac’s profile didn’t have a fish photo, but the bar was still clearly on the ground.

“I knew you when you wore those shirts with that big mouthed monkey on them. And that’s the kind of shit I don’t need to know about. I don’t wanna be involved. Not gonna happen, kid,” his declaration resolute.

“Well, that sure is something, Bradshaw,” Natasha states, giving him a curious look.

“What are y’all over here discussing so intently,” Hangman questions as he saddles up to your little group, tucking his phone into his pocket. 

“We were just getting into the finer details of the kid’s dating life and how I am going to fix it by setting her up with this great guy I know,” she pronounces, looking all too pleased with herself. A truly self-satisfied grin gracing her face.

Natasha Trace was probably the most bad ass person you’ve ever met, so the idea of her setting you up with someone had you sitting up straighter on the stool you were seated on, “Really?”

“Who?” Rooster demands, frowning at her.

“Yeah, I mean Bradshaw clearly has his convictions, and I respect that. However, I’m an excellent wing-woman. Seriously, I don’t know why I haven’t thought about introducing you guys before. You two would be perfect together.”

Hangman never one to miss an opportunity to rile up Rooster is quick to jump in, “Just because you fly in a two-seater doesn’t make you a good wing-woman, Phoenix. However, now that you mention it, I have a buddy who might knock your socks off. Unless you’d rather just knock boots, I’m sure he’d be up for whatever you wanted,” he shooting you a wink. “I think I’ll toss my name in the ring here too. After all, I’m very good.”

“You want to make it a bet, Bagman?” Her accent always got a little more pronounced when she went toe to toe with him.

“What’re you thinkin’, Darlin’?” he drawls suggestively with a sharp smile. That ever-present toothpick being rolled in his mouth from side to side.

“You guys are not going to be making bets around the kid’s love life,” Rooster snaps.

“The big dogs are talking, Bradshaw,” Hangman taunts as he waves him off.  

“$50 entry? The dates happen here and at the end the kid picks which date was the best. Winner takes all?” You can see the competitive gleam in her eye.

“Alright, alright. Works for me, Phoenix. I can’t wait to take your money.”

“The hell you are,” Rooster barks, still trying to regain control of the quickly spiraling situation.

Well, this had certainly taken a turn.

You find yourself reaching for your third beer of the night.

And you’re even more surprised when Hangman hollers for the rest of the team to join, and before you know it your dating life takes centerstage as the subject of the bet between the group of competitive naval aviators. Many of the others deciding to join in, never ones to shy away from a bit of rivalry.  

“What do you say? You up for it?” Natasha asks, wanting to make sure you were still on board now that her original offer had taken on a life of its own.

You look over and see Rooster looking at you like you’d be crazy to get involved in their kind of chaos. You know he can already tell what your answer will be.

“Why not?” you agree cheerily as he groans into his beer.

At least you would be spared from swiping for a while. It’s what you deserve, you are an upstanding citizen after all.

Get ready for some dates! Part 2

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge! 

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me bounce ideas off of you!

Edit: I’ve started a tag list for Part 2! Just let me know if you’d like to be added!

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You get a little bit of time alone with Bradley, and now you want him even more. When he asks you about Frank, you realize you need to tie up some loose ends. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)

Length: 3300 words

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

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

Everett was beyond excited for his first tee ball game, and he insisted on wearing his jersey to school on Friday. He wanted to wear it to bed on Friday night as well, but you made him change into pajamas. 

"What time does my game start?" he asked for the millionth time.

"Sweetie, I already told you. Tomorrow morning at 10:30. And that's why you need to get in bed and get a lot of rest."

After six bedtime stories and a cup of water, he was finally dozing off to sleep, and you were about to check your work email. 

But when you looked at your phone, you saw a few texts from your sister and a text from Bradley.

Bradley Bradshaw: I can't wait to see you tomorrow. I'm probably allowed to spend a little extra time with the Team Mom. Maybe you'll keep your Kitten claws tucked away and let me buy you something from the snack bar after the game?

"Oh my god," you whispered as you sat on the edge of your bed. You lay back and literally kicked your feet up in the air as you wrote back to him.

I'll keep my kitten claws away if you buy me an Icee and a soft pretzel.

Then you sat up and gasped before running downstairs to the kitchen. Everett's tee ball schedule was hanging on the refrigerator where you and he could both see it. You took it down, sending a magnet flying in the process. You were right; Monday's practice was dress up day. The kids were supposed to come to practice in costumes, and there was a note encouraging the parents to dress up as well. 

With a squeak, you found the magnet and hung the calendar again before running back upstairs to your room. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Sounds perfect. And maybe you can fill me in more about what else Kittens like to eat and drink. For future reference.

You buried your face in your pillow to keep from screaming too loud. You felt like you were seventeen again and about to get asked to prom by Kyle Jenkins. Except this was even better. 

You sent back a cat emoji before you opened your Amazon app and searched for what you needed for Monday. 

You found a cat ear headband and a cat tail to make an adult cat costume. Then you dug around in your closet for something to pair them with. You had black jeans, but couldn't find a suitable top. After a few minutes of searching, you added a black bodysuit to the shopping cart along with some washable face paint. Before you could second guess yourself, you charged everything to your credit card with next day shipping, and started to get ready for bed. 

You needed to be well rested for Everett's game. And for the snack bar.

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

Bradley took a quick shower while his coffee brewed. The bathroom was right next to the kitchen and living room, and his bedroom was the only other room. His apartment was kind of small, and he kind of hated it. 

Last night, he had spent hours thinking about bringing you back here, but it was so boring and bare, it made it look like he had no personality. Then he started thinking about what your place might look like. Then he started thinking about what your bed might look like. Then he was just imagining you in a nondescript bed with him, and he started touching himself. 

He wasn't really surprised. You were such a treat to look at, and he was more attracted to you than he had been to the last dozen women he had hooked up with combined. There was just something about you. The combination of wholesome mom vibes were mixing with the way you responded to him when he called you Kitten. It was a lot for his brain to process how sexy he found those two things when put together. 

For a brief moment he thought about masturbating again in the shower, but he didn't have enough time to indulge in that like he really wanted to. 

He quickly toweled off and finished getting ready. He sipped his coffee and scrolled through his text messages with you, being extra careful not to spill anything on his white baseball pants. 

God, you were so flirtatious. That little kitten emoji threw him last night. 

He rubbed a hand across his mouth and mustache and grabbed his gear for the game. He'd never make it through the day if he didn't try to stop thinking about you. 

He arrived at the field early and started setting things up with Bob, but he kept glancing around, looking for you. And if Bradley thought you looked good when you came to practice directly from work, that was nothing compared to how you looked today.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as you made your way across the assigned field with Everett in his blue jersey. Your jeans were tight, and you had them paired with a Padres shirt and cap. 

When you looked over at him, you smiled and mouthed, "Hi, coach."

Bradley handed the cones he was holding to Bob and headed directly for you.

"Hey, we still need to mark off the outfield!" Bob called after him, but Bradley didn't pause until he was next to you.

"Kitten," he whispered as you took Everett's cleats out of his bag.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, and Bradley made sure you could tell he was checking you out. 

"Coach," you whispered back just as Everett launched off the bleachers. 

"Coach Bradley! Are we playing against the orange team?" he asked, pointing to the kids in the opposing uniforms. 

"We sure are. Those are the Tiny Hawks. Much less intimidating than a Tiny Eagle," Bradley said, adjusting his cap. "You ready to play? We're going to need our top power hitter if we have a chance at winning."

"Yeah!" Everett yelled. 

"Start warming up for the game," Bradley said, patting him on the shoulder as he ran toward Bob. Then he turned toward you and smirked. You were chewing on your bottom lip as you looked up at him like you were about to kiss him. "You look cute, Kitten. And on that note, I'm going to go cool down for the game."

Your laughter followed him as he went to meet with the referee. When the game started, he could hear you cheering loudly for Everett, your voice reaching his ears over everyone else's.

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

The game was honestly pretty exciting for a bunch of first graders hitting a ball off a vertical stick. Everett had two hits and even made it to third base during one inning. And whenever there was downtime in the game, you still got to look at Bradley in those tight, white pants. 

The moms behind you started whispering, and you were trying not to laugh. 

"I'll bet Coach Bradley could bench press me. His biceps look like fire hydrants." 

"Tara, he's got to have a girlfriend. There's no way something that meaty is still on the market."

Then Everett hit the ball so hard, another player on his team scored a run. "Go Everett! Run!" you shouted, jumping out of your seat and cheering. 

Bradley turned around and smiled at you as Everett won the game for his team. You waited for the kids to shake hands with each other, and then Everett gave Bradley another high five before running to you.

"Mommy!" he shouted as you caught him in your arms. "I'm a power hitter! Just like Coach Bradley said!"

"You really are! You were amazing!"

Then he wriggled out of your arms and said, "Can I play on the swings with the other kids?"

There was a good view of the swings from the snack bar, and now Bradley was heading your way with his gear bag slung over his shoulder and some dirt on his white pants. 

"Yeah, Ev. Just stay on the playground."

Bradley stopped in front of you. "I have a little team business I'd like to discuss with you, Team Mom. Would you join me on a bench near the snack bar?"

You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh. "Sure, Coach Bradley." So you turned and walked next to him for the first time; Everett was usually tucked in the middle when he walked you both to your car. Bradley was so tall when he was right next to you that you had to tilt your head up to talk to him. The other moms were right. He was definitely something to look at. 

"Congrats on your perfect winning record, Coach," you told him, earning a deep laugh that made your lips part as you sucked in a breath.

"Thanks, but I guess I should really be thanking Ev. He won us the game."

You just smiled and glanced at your son as he played. "He's doing so well. I can't believe it."

Bradley just shrugged as he led you up to the window to order some snacks. "He's talented, and he's fast. Does...his dad practice with him?"

You glanced up at him and shook your head. "No. Danny barely sees him at all."

A crease appeared on Bradley's brow and he immediately looked kind of angry. "Why not? He's not local?"

You snorted as you gave him a pitying look. "He lives in Mission Beach. He's just not interested."

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked, earning a glare from the woman who was trying to take your order at the snack bar. 

You just nudged his arm as you ordered your soft pretzel and cherry Icee. He ordered himself a soft pretzel and a lemonade and paid before you could get to your wallet.

"I already told you, it's my treat," he said, grabbing both drinks while you grabbed the pretzels. "Now I need you to explain to me how Everett's dad lives in San Diego but never spends time with him. I don't understand."

You just shrugged and sat down on a bench in the shade. "It's just one of the many reasons Danny and I are divorced. He never showed much interest in Ev, even when he was a baby."

Bradley settled in next to you and handed you the Icee. "I mean... babies are kind of scary. But Everett is fucking great."

You just looked at him, his pretty brown eyes flashing with anger and annoyance. 

"Yeah, Ev is the best. We're better off without Danny."

Bradley took one of the soft pretzels from you and ate half of it in one bite and chewed it up.

"Does that mean you're single, Kitten?" he asked without hesitation. "Been wanting to know."

You grinned at him as your phone vibrated in your pocket. "You've been wanting to know?" You ignored a text from Frank and set your phone down on the bench between your thigh and Bradley's. 

"Come on, Kitten. Just tell me. You're playing with me like I'm a ball of yarn."

Your grin gew as you nibbled on your pretzel and tried to figure out what to tell him. Essentially Frank was nothing. Inconsequential. In fact, he was really irritating you at the moment as another text came through after you'd already told him you were busy this weekend. 

"Well," you started. But now Frank was calling you. As you tried to ignore the call, Bradley looked at the screen.

"Who's Frank?" he asked, looking up at your face with a forced neutral expression. "Someone you're dating?"

"No," you replied, scrunching up your nose. 

"So you're single?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because you've got some salt on your lip," he whispered, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. Without giving it a second thought, you licked the salt from the pad of his thumb. Bradley froze with his eyes wide, staring at your mouth. "Jesus, Kitten."

Your face had the decency to grow warm as he leaned in a bit closer and whispered, "Next time I'll kiss it away."

You let out a tiny squeak as your phone started ringing again. 

"Damn it, Frank," Bradley growled as he scooped up your phone and answered it. "This is Kitten's phone. How can I help you?"

"Bradley!" you gasped, lunging for the phone as he switched ears. You watched him sip his lemonade as he looked at you, keeping the phone firmly out of your reach. 

"Yeah, I hear you, Frank. But she's at a tee ball game right now. Want me to relay a message?"

"Give it back," you scolded him, reaching for it again.

Bradley shook his head, but you just climbed across his lap to get your phone, your chest pressed against his. But now he was holding your phone out in his massive hand with his arm extended, and smiling a few inches from your lips.

"Bradley!" you said with an exasperated laugh. "You're terrible!"

"And you're wonderful," he replied as you anchored one hand around his neck and reached for the phone. You planted your right knee between his thighs and reached, but he finally relented by handing the phone to you.

"Frank?" you asked a bit breathlessly when you had the phone to your ear. You were touching Bradley in the weirdest assortment of places, but neither of his hands were on you. You wished they were. 

"Frank, I'll see you on Monday," you said, paying no attention to what he was saying before ending the call. 

"Who's Frank?" Bradley asked again, his breath ghosting across your cheek as you eased yourself off of his lap. But his hand came up to your waist to hold you in place and your eyes met his.

"A guy from work. Who doesn't know how to take no for an answer."

"What the hell does that mean?" Bradley's voice was tight. 

"Oh, just that I told him I'm busy this weekend, but he's still bugging me." You swallowed hard. You were going to need to completely end things with Frank. Soon. Because as you eased your knee over Bradley's thigh, you had to fight the urge to kiss him. You never craved kisses from Frank. "But maybe he'll leave me alone now that you answered my phone."

You were sitting on your knees on the bench facing Bradley when he turned toward you and asked, "Do I need to worry about Frank?" 

Your lips parted in a silent smile, and you laughed. His eyes looked a little hurt as they met yours. 

"You don't need to worry about anyone, Coach."

His face eased into a soft smile. "Have you given any more thought to that Phillies game, Kitten? It's my treat if you and Ev want to go."

"That's not necessary," you insisted. But you wanted to go in the worst way. 

But if you told Everett that this was even a possibility, he would ask about it nonstop for the next month. Letting Everett spend time with Bradley outside of tee ball was just asking for trouble. Spending time by yourself with Bradley outside of tee ball was probably just as bad. 

"I know it's not necessary, but I'd still love to take both of you." 

His eyes were so sincere. You had never been interested in a guy who you allowed to be around Everett before. But Bradley was in two categories: Everett's Coach and a guy you really liked. And it would be impossible to separate the two now.

"I want to say yes...."

"Then say yes," he replied. "And you should say yes when I ask you out on a date without Everett. And you should say yes when I ask you if I can practice tee ball with him since his dad sounds like such a tool."

You felt soft inside. "All of that sounds nice, Coach. And I do the best I can with helping him practice, but I don't know that much about baseball."

"I can teach you," Bradley said softly, stroking your knee through your jeans. "Over dinner? What do you like to eat, Kitten?"

"I'm not picky."

"What's your favorite?"

You kind of shrugged. "Cheap burgers and expensive champagne."

Bradley laughed. "I love that, too."

Then Everett came over and squeezed onto the bench in the small gap between your knees and Bradley's thigh. "I'm starving," he whined.

When you checked your phone, you were surprised to find it was a lot later than you thought. "Ready to head home for lunch?"

"Yes," he said, and just when you were about to remind him to thank his coach, Everett threw his arms around Bradley's neck.

"Thanks for making me such a good player."

You watched Bradley return his hug, something you couldn't ever remember Danny doing. 

"I didn't do much, kiddo. You're a natural," Bradley told him with a smile. 

"I don't know what that means, but it sounds good," Everett said, standing up and collecting his gear bag. 

"Thanks for the snack," you whispered as Everett took your hand and started pulling you toward the parking lot. 

"Bye, Kitten."

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

Bradley watched you walk away, looking like a real treat in those jeans. The bench was suddenly too quiet and lonely without your attention for him to bask in. So he just sipped his lemonade and tried to figure out how to make you feel more comfortable. 

Clearly you were hesitant to tell him who the hell Frank was. That was a potential problem. But Bradley had to smile at the memory of Frank sputtering in confusion when he answered your phone. 

Frank was going to have to go.

You also needed some reassurance about Everett. Bradley genuinely liked your son, and he could picture himself tossing a ball around the park with him. If he wanted to play real ball in the fall, Everett was going to need to get better at fielding. He seemed to love baseball as much as Bradley did at that age. And honestly baseball was the one thing that really helped him deal with losing his dad. 

It was funny how Everett reminded him so much of himself, but Bradley thought perhaps Everett had it worse than he did. Nick Bradshaw was just gone from Bradley's life by the time he was in first grade. Completely wiped away. No chance of ever seeing or talking to his dad again. But Everett's dad lived a scant five miles away from this bench and never spent any time with his kid. 

"Fucked up," Bradley mumbled to himself. Especially since you and Everett's dad had been married. Who does that shit to their family, divorced or not? Bradley had to roll his shoulders to help himself calm down. 

If it was okay with you, he would take Everett to the park one day. He thought they would both have fun. 

As he finished his lemonade, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from you.

"Okay, Coach. Take us to the Phillies game. We both really want to go with you."

He smiled and opened the internet tab where he had been looking at tickets. He bought three seats in the outfield and took a screenshot of the receipt. Then he texted you the image along with a promise.

"I really want to go with both of you, too."

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

Bye, Frank. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 5

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[ynscrazylife]

Hi, don't know if you take requests & write Emily prentiss. But if you do, can you maybe do some headcanons about her being a mom or anything similar to it

emily being your mom (mom!emily prentiss x reader hcs)

Since her own relationship with her mother is strained, her relationship with you is very important to her. First and foremost, Emily wants you to know that you have her respect. She doesn’t want to talk down to you or yell, she wants to facilitate healthy conversations.

The BAU Team is your family. Uncle Derek, Uncle Spence, Uncle Aaron, Uncle Rossi, Aunt JJ, and Aunt Penelope are always there for you. They adore you, Penelope especially. She is always wanting to spoil you and constantly buys you presents

With her line of work, Emily is also very protective. She never wants you to get involved in anything related to her cases. She will do what’s necessary to keep you out of it.

She also wants you to have as normal of a life as possible. You go to regular public school, you have friends, etc.

I feel like Emily would be a bit of a strict mom. She’s serious when it comes to curfews and knowing where you are when you’re out and who you’re with. She is a bit wary about parties and makes you promise to be safe.

Speaking of being safe, Emily definitely has you go to self-defense classes and she gives you pepper spray to carry around.

I can see Emily being a soccer mom. She is your biggest cheerleader and tries to attend all your games, if you’re an athlete, and all your school events.

When prom rolls around, Penelope and JJ definitely come over to help you get ready. They are SO excited and they take so many pictures.

If you do date, Emily wants to make sure that your partner is treating you the right way. She will not tolerate any disrespect.

Your grades are also important to her. She expects you to do well but, if for whatever reason you’re having trouble, she is always around to help. She’ll never punish you or make you feel bad if you get a not-so-good grade.

Emily also has a fun, humorous side to her. Her sarcasm definitely rubs off on you. The two of you have a lot of inside jokes and can always laugh about something.

I think she would be great at giving advice and helping you when you’re stressed out. She’s a calming, grounding presence and will help you work through things step by step.

You and Emily also have plans when the one of you are stressed. You’ll go for spa days, play board games, or binge shows together.

Emily also always wants you to tell her what the kids watch and do these days. She wants to be involved and supportive.

I feel like your house would be the most fun. Emily always has ideas for things to do or how to make up activities for people to enjoy. Still, she does value relaxation and me-time.

She wants to make you fully prepared for problem-solving and independence is important to her. She encourages you to try new things and do things for yourself, but of course is always there for help or guidance.

[otrtbs]

there's a thing in the summer evening, when the sun goes down and the moon is high and full in the sky, cooling everything off just slightly, where the surrounding neighborhood kids come out and play baseball in a makeshift baseball field and everyone gets really into it. like, really into it. they have to bring their own battery operated lights for the field, they have bets running on the different teams playing (a few dollars, baseball cards, packs of gum, coins, stickers, yo-yo's, single cigarettes (how'd those get in there?) sunglasses, watches, candy, you name it).

and no adults allowed. not that they encroach on the fun, but the first game starts at one in the morning so who's got the time?

and since sirius left to live with james, regulus is shut up in the house and has to hear about the great baseball extravaganza from barty in a "your brother is on the james potter all-star team i've got $50 in the pool, we have to go to the tournament" kinda way. and regulus is like "my mother would actually kill me and explicitly forbids it but i'll think about it."

but barty shows up just after midnight on game day and starts throwing rocks at regulus' window to get him to come out except he runs out of small rocks and moves to bigger ones and gets impatient and throws the big rocks harder and then oops, one went right through a window, except this house isn't regulus' house. regulus' house is two doors down, it's just hard to see in the dark. so barty moves two doors down and finds some smaller rocks and starts over again until regulus comes out. scowling, but he's out.

and they start the long walk to the makeshift baseball field and it's hot and the air is sticky and sweet with honeysuckles. and barty and regulus talk. and barty buys regulus boiled peanuts and crackerjack from a kid's makeshift concession stand and they sit in the makeshift bleachers side by side with their knees knocking together. and barty manages to make sly remarks that make regulus laugh. and regulus makes last minute bets and watches the game, and starts getting into it, and barty smiles at the way he's on the edge of his seat, brows furrowed in concentration. barty thinks he even sees regulus clap once, and it's fun watching regulus, more fun than watching the game, even.

so fun that barty says he'll get regulus the next night to watch the next two teams play. regulus agrees, and they make this a routine and barty thinks, finally.

but then it's james' team that's up next and james walks up to the plate and does a trick with his baseball bat with a grin so-wide and a wink, and regulus' eyes are as wide a saucers for a brief second before he catches himself but it doesn't matter. barty's seen it, and knows instantly he's made a mistake. he's signed himself up for a summer of looking at regulus look at james. and he's doomed.

[bwabys-scenarios]

After months of Killua making fun of Kurapika for crushing on you, he accidentally calls you “mom” in front of the group. Finally, Kurapika has SOME sort of ammo against him. It doesn’t seem to work for long though, because you laugh it off, honored that he sees you as a mother figure. And honestly, it makes Killua feel a lot better about going back to picking on Kurapika, especially after Gon accidentally calls you mom too.

“Hahah you like (name)”

“Oh, you mean your mom?”

“Nice try, that’s not gonna work anymore. Gon called her mom by accident yesterday, so it’s not THAT out of place. Plus she was happy about it.”

“You got over that quickly.”

“Yeah, too bad you can’t get over your crush as quickly as I got over the mom embarrassment”

When the group meets up to do anything fun, you’re the one that organizes it. Whether that be for a movie, a trip to the zoo, or even a vacation to the beach, you’re sending them all a list of what they need to pack and how much money they’ll need to bring to cover their tickets and food.

At least, you do that for the adults. For the kids, they stay with you so often that you have two suitcases full of their clothes and a list of the products they use.

Killua can’t stand mint tooth paste, so you buy him the bubblegum flavored kind instead. Gon is picky about what shampoo he uses, so you make sure that you get the scentless kind.

When you arrive at the beach with the boys in tow, you already LOOK like a mom. You’re carrying an umbrella and big bag full of towels and are yelling at them to put on sunscreen. Especially Killua, with his pasty ass.

He tries to run away from you, but Gon helps you catch him.

He grumbles as you cover him in sunscreen, calling Gon a traitor. As you do this, Kurapika and Leorio show up, carrying the ice chest full of drinks and fruit you’d packed before you left.

“Hello (Name). I see you’ve managed to catch Killua.”

You giggle. “With Gon’s help.”

Killua turns back, his eyes narrowing.

“Mom, don’t tell h-“

He pauses.

They all pause, everyone except you.

“Hmm? Don’t tell him what?”

Killua literally looks like a fish gasping for air, his face red and barely able to breathe.

“I-you-“

He runs off, dragging Gon behind him as they rush into the water. You can see Gon ask Killua something, the latter responding by throwing him into the depths.

Kurapika lets out a snicker, storing this information for later. “So you’re mom now?”

You shrug, standing up and pulling your dress off to reveal a two piece. His teasing is quieted when you drop your dress onto the ground and stretch.

“I’ve been called mom before, by a lot of people. It’s really not a big deal.”

You hand Kurapika the bottle of sunscreen. “You two make sure you put some on, alright sweetheart?”

You took off for the water. “I’m coming, boys, make some room!”

Kurapika could understand why he called you mom, but that doesn’t mean he would let Killua slide that easily.

As you and Leorio play 1v1 volleyball on the beach, Kurapika and Killua sit next to each other.

Killua KNOWS what Kurapika is going to say. He already knows, yet he can’t get up until you come back and reapply his sunscreen.

“I didn’t know you were a mamas boy, Killua.”

The white haired boy shoots him a glare, his cheeks pink. “Shut up.”

“Why? Am I not stating a fact?”

Killua huffs. He watches as Gon joins your team, saying Leorio was being to hard on you. He wants to join, anything to get away from Kurapika’s smug smirk.

“Missing your mom right now?”

Killua throws sand into his face. This results in the two fighting, getting your dress and towels covered in sand.

When you finish your game, you come back to see the two glaring at each other, wet sand clinging to them as they attempted to clean off the towel.

“I KNOW you two didn’t get sand on my dress.”

You stand before them, your arms crossed over your chest. Right now, you’re giving them the angry mom look, and even Kurapika feels a little scared.

“He started it mom! I didn’t e-“

Killua groaned loudly and slapped a hand over his face. He said it AGAIN.

“I’m sorry I-“

You sigh and pat his head. “Don’t be sorry, I don’t mind you calling me mom. I’m honored even.”

You smile at him and brush the sand off of your stuff.

“Let’s eat, you’re both probably just hangry!”

———————

“Hi mom!”

Gon waves at you from across the store, not even realizing what he’d called you. Killua startles next to him, grabbing his shoulder.

“Gon, you just called her mom.”

Gon slaps a hand over his mouth. “Oh.”

“I told you I don’t mind.”

You appear in front of them, the boys instantly taking the shopping bags out of your hands. “Aww, my sweet boys. I can carry them myself, you know.”

Gon shakes his head. “Aunt Mito said men shouldn’t let a lady carry stuff all by herself!”

“… they’re too heavy for you.”

You laugh and ruffle their hair. “Alright, alright. Let’s go home.”

Killua follows behind you. Home. Your house was home to him, more than the place he’d been born and raised was. You never placed expectations on him, you allowed him to be the kid he was. Although it was a bit annoying when you were too overprotective, he knew it came from a place of care, and he was okay with being babied if it was you.

You really were his mom, weren’t you?

“(Name)?”

You hum in response, peeking at Killua.

“Is… is it really okay if I… call you mom?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? You’re both basically my kids already. Especially with how much you make me worry.”

You rub your face. “Look, I’m getting wrinkles.”

The two laugh, catching up to walk on each side of you.

“Alright, alright. Sorry… mom.”

You smile and ruffle his hair. “It’s okay.”

—————

You get home and ask for them to get the groceries put up while you go to shower.

Kurapika gets home shortly after, shrugging off his coat and placing it on the coat hanger.

He looks into the kitchen to see Gon and Killua sorting through the groceries, the two sneaking a few pieces of the candy you’d bought as they did.

“Your girlfriend is in the shower.”

Kurapika takes a second to process what Killua said before snapping back. “You mean your mom?”

“Kurapika, you sh-“ Gon is interrupted by Killua crossing his arms and blowing a raspberry at Kurapika.

“She said I can call her mom if I want. But you can’t call her your girlfriend, can you?”

The two stare at him in shock. Kurapika can’t speak, his eyes and face turning red.

“You little-“

You step out of the bathroom in one of Kurapika’s shirts and a pair of shorts. “Oh, Kurapika, you’re home!”

You run up to him and give him a big hug, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Did your mission go well?”

Kurapika was already reeling from Killua’s words, and now he was the brightest shade of red he’d ever been. Did you just… kiss his cheek? His cheek? HIS? And you’re… wearing his shirt. Oh god.

“I-um it’s-“

Killua snickers from his seat on the counter. “Who’s the mamas boy now?”

The two start fighting, you confused.

“What does he mean by that?”

Gon shrugs. “Dunno. You should probably just let them fight it out though.”

You pout, but he’s probably right. If you stepped in, they’d just be passively aggressive to each other all night, and you didn’t want that.

“If you two are going to fight at least do it outside, I have breakable knickknacks.”